‘Emilia Pérez’ Is A Fun, Pulpy Misstep In Trans Cinematic Representation
The pop opera has panache but lacks the care it needs to make meaning out of this trans story
This review is part of Guest Writer Laya Lee’s coverage of TIFF 2024.
Slight spoilers ahead!
The first time I heard the word ‘transgender’ was in an episode of Law & Order: SVU.
It was the Season 10 Episode called Transitions which followed a case where a man was brutally beaten up for not supporting his transgender daughter’s transition.
It’s a precarious episode (as many of the trans episodes of Law & Order are), as it ends up reinforcing certain transphobic tropes even when trying to humanize trans people. But what I remember most vividly is the fear I felt as a young kid, after watching the episode. I wonder if part of me felt shaken by what I had witnessed, like I had been found out?
Because what I saw in how trans characters were punished by the world, I saw in myself and how adults around me policed my expressions of femininity. At the age of 11, I didn’t completely understand what it meant to be transgender, but after watching that episode—I was too startled to want to find out.
I think back to this memory often. I’ve collected various memories of trans representation from my youth—films like Ace Ventura, and Boys Don’t Cry—all of which, in one way or another, saw trans people as a punchline or a punching bag. Over time, we’ve thankfully seen more thoughtful and fuller representations of trans characters on-screen—Pose, Veneno, that one Hunter Schafer directed episode of Euphoria—that’s worked to fill in the gaps of trans identity on-screen, even if we still have a long way to go.
So I was nervous when I first learned of Emilia Pérez, the newest film from Jacques Audiard, about an ex-cartel boss who fakes her death to transition into a woman.
As hungry as I am for more trans stories in film, I remained skeptical of Jacques Audiard’s connection to this character. It’s not that I believe only trans creators can tell trans stories, but rather I understand the responsibility of telling trans stories because our depictions in the media directly affect our livelihoods.

Ironically, this same responsibility to counter the history-spanning harmful representation of trans people (see the documentary Disclosure for more) with positive depictions of trans people is yet another limiting box for trans actors and creators to invent within. There needs to be space in a trans cinema canon for sloppy—even messy—depictions of trans characters. Not to validate our experiences, but to honor and commemorate the very human nature of moving through transformation.
That is to say, the film thankfully understands just how flawed its protagonist is and doesn’t shy away from portraying Emilia as the complex woman she deserves to be. Karla Sofía Gascón (El Señor de los Cielos, The Noble Family) is given lots of room to breathe life into her character Emilia, including being able to play her pre-operations, which I love. Some cis audiences may find this one a bit of a head-scratcher but there is so much power in trans women getting to perform in drag, a badass move to assume full power and autonomy over our stories.
Unfortunately, I’m not as confident in the writing of Audiard, uncertain that he understood the responsibility of telling this story, nor do I think there was enough care exercised in writing the film’s titular protagonist. Emilia Pérez is, admittedly, one of the most clumsy and senseless depictions of transition that I’ve seen.
With a gawkish musical number of Zoë Saldaña (Avatar: The Way of the Water, Colombiana) and various doctors listing off all the gender-affirming surgeries available like an all-you-can-eat buffet, it feels like Emilia Pérez did not have any transgender script consultants. These scenes, while silly, sensationalize gender affirming care without weighing any the emotional nuances of choosing to change your visage to pass as a woman. The film has some of the most insensitive handling of a trans character’s transition, harkening back to the days of trans people appearing on daytime talk shows led by Maury Povich or Tyra Banks.
Emilia moves through medical transformation swiftly, receiving facial feminization surgery (FFS), top surgery, bottom surgery, and presumably body sculpting surgeries all in one fell swoop. Each trans person’s own experience of transition is unique and transcends beyond mainstream media’s understanding of transition as a material mode of transformation. For me, my transition was slow and spiritually transformative. There is plenty of room for different depictions of transition.
Yet, my concern is just that I still don’t trust cis audiences to understand that transition isn’t as volatile and traumatic as the one we witness on-screen in Emilia Pérez.
That’s my primary issue with this film. There are a lot of tired and boring trans tropes in it (trans woman killer, transition upends everyone else’s lives, trans woman described as half-man, half-woman) that I don’t believe are inherently harmful. It’s just that I don’t trust the film’s audience to be able to sift through the film’s plot, understanding what’s Emilia and what’s ‘the transgender narrative’.
That’s not to say the film is without its merits. To make up for the clumsy start, it dedicates itself fully to the arcs of its ensemble cast of women—all seeking to remold their lives in the face of their oppressive pasts. Karla Sofía Gascón, Zoë Saldaña, Selena Gomez, and Adriana Paz deliver captivating performances that carry the film, even if Gomez and Paz are terribly underutilized.
The film’s self-described hybrid genre storytelling (part pulpy pop opera, part narcos thriller) makes for zany and fun storytelling, with some amazing musical numbers featuring Zoë Saldaña in a bold red pantsuit singing about the corrupted wealthy & powerful, along with a sequence of Emilia’s daughter singing about Emilia’s smell, reminiscing about the memories she carried of her father.
It’s a shame really, that Emilia Pérez is burdened so much by its sloppy and comically offensive first act, given that the film has so much to offer in spectacle and character-driven storytelling. It’s a clear no-contest winner in its championed acting, especially from Gascón. Yet, it’s undeniable that the film’s missteps set back some of the work that trans storytellers have done to wash away tired cinematic tropes of trans people.
I detest the notion that artists must be held responsible for how their work will impact audiences or how they might influence political paradigms. But, there’s no arguing that the cinematic representations of transgender people are directly tethered to our livelihoods and our safety. I know that Emilia Pérez is an R-rated film, but I can’t help but wonder what younger trans people will take away from it about what transition looks like or what it means to be trans. Will they feel seen or mocked? Will they be inspired or afraid?
Whether we like it or not, the film will likely be at the forefront of trans cinema for the next few years. And yet, Emilia Pérez begs the question: just how much room there is for clumsy representation of transness—especially from cis male directors?
Emilia Pérez is in select theaters in November and on Netflix November 13
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