Director: Jacques Audiard
Genre: Drama/Musical
Year: 2024
Runtime: 132 minutes
Mexico City. Rita Mora Castro (Zoe Saldaña), an overworked and underpaid legal intern, manages to secure the acquittal of a high-profile client accused of murder (which – spoiler alert! – he actually committed) thanks to the pervasive corruption of her firm. Although she remains in the shadow, her actions are noticed by an anonymous caller who offers her a job for a substantial sum of money. What exactly the job entails is unclear, but tired of the grueling workload and lack of recognition, Rita accepts the meeting.
The caller turns out to be Juan Manitas Del Monte (Karla Sofía Gascón), a powerful drug lord who wants to retire from the cartel and disappear – while keeping his wife Jessi (Selena Gomez) and their children safe. After years of hesitation and fear, Manitas plans to undergo gender-reassignment surgery. It will be Rita’s task not only to organize his escape but also to find someone who is willing to help him with his “rebirth”. And she accepts.
Four years have passed, and Manitas no longer existed, or almost. In his place stands Emilia Pérez, who returns to Mexico City trying to get her wife Jessi and her children back. Once again, Rita agrees to help, setting the stage for an unexpected turn of events that allows both women to find redemption in Emilia’s new life, not just for themselves but also for a city that seems to be on a verge of collapse.
Told as a story of attempted redemption and, inevitably, rebirth (in every sense), Emilia Pérez is ultimately about second chances, both those we seize and those we create for ourselves and others. However, does gender transition and a handful of good deeds truly redeem someone who was once portrayed as a ruthless figure, like Manitas? Of course not. However, there is something more so. The film suggests – or rather reminds us – that, sometimes, due to family, social, or cultural circumstances, real choice is an illusion. And no, it is not about gender identity.
Although we lack a detailed background for Manitas/Emilia, we sense that this character never truly chose to become a drug lord. Instead, in a society where the State (which should protect its citizens) and drug cartels (which exploit their poverty) coexist and collude, the choice was between survival or death. However, here the relationship between voluntary and imposed decisions remains extremely weak. And this is where Rita Mora Castro comes in, standing on that boundary.
Despite years of study and a life devoted to books, Rita finds herself in a poorly paid job, surrounded by morally and ethically corrupt individuals. Disillusioned, she has nothing to lose and everything to gain from her association with Manitas (first) and Emilia (second).
Through Rita, we thus see (and hear) another painful truth: that “evil” inevitably holds a greater allure than good. Despite moral hesitation, the power that evil wields – and offers – is so tempting that even those with strong ideals (and hundreds of different choices), like Rita, can succumb to it. In some cases, however, fighting evil may require the use of its own weapons. This brings us to the gala scene, one of the film’s most striking and iconic moments.
After a chance encounter with a grieving mother searching for her missing son – whom Emilia already knows to be dead – the former drug lord decides to set up an organization to help Mexican families recover their loved ones’ remains from the mass graves left by drug cartels (a bid for redemption/different choice). To accomplish this, Emilia needs information from her old “associates”, and once again enlists Rita to pay for the intel. Additionally, they require substantial funding. Thus, Emilia turns to her old contacts and invites Mexico’s elite to a gala. As Rita surveys attendees, she recognizes many clients of her former law firm. “Is there anyone here who isn’t corrupt?” she asks Emilia. “These are the only rich people I know”, she replies.
“The Chemist, a minister of something” who had his business partner and their entire family killed, dissolving their bodies in acid; a judge who facilitated child trafficking by dismissing cases for lack of evidence; and an education minister who raised funds for schools that would never be built, instead funneling the money into luxury hotels. These are just a few of the figures presented in the gala. «They talk, and talk, and now they’ll pay», sings a terrific Zoe Saldaña in El Mal, the musical number that underscores the bitter realization that evil not only persists but constantly evolves, adapting like a parasite to the society that hosts it. Thus, if it cannot be eradicated, why does it not use it to one’s advantage?
With this awareness – and in a narrative filled with blurred lines between right and wrong, morality, and violence – Emilia and Rita make their choices, whether willingly or out of necessity. They embrace an inevitable compromise between who they are and who they choose to become in a world overrun by corruption.
The film’s unconventional musical format makes it a blend of drama, comedy, and telenovela, tackling complex themes with mixed successes. While the final act feels rushed, leaving little time to fully process the unfolding events and underutilize Selena Gomez’s character (a main one), the film remains a peculiar cinematic experience. After all, any film bold enough to turn vaginoplasty into a musical number is worth watching.
