Emilia Pérez

 

Director Jacques Audiard

Audiard on the set

Audiard on the set with Zoe Saldaña and Karla Sofía Gascón

Audiard with Selena Gomez, Zoe Saldaña and Karla Sofía Gascón

Cannes award winners

EMILIA PÉREZ        B+                                                                                                          France  Belgium  (132 mi)  2024

If he’s a wolf, he’ll be a wolf.

A defiantly original film about personal and social transformation, as expressed by a Mexican drug cartel leader’s change of identity through a sex change operation, kind of like Juan Perón’s power transforming into Eva Perón, as expressed through an audacious rock opera musical reminiscent of Evita (musical).  A trans musical seems like an apt choice during yet another run-in with the virulently homophobic Donald Trump, spewing fear and hatred that transgender people must deal with on a daily basis, which requires a social transformation to rid the country of the toxic stench he has left us with.  The film debuted at Cannes, where it received a nine-minute standing ovation, not uncommon, but also more rousing applause at the press conference, which is unheard of, winning the Jury Prize (3rd Place) and combined Best Actress awards for Adriana Paz, Karla Sofía Gascón, Selena Gomez, and Zoe Saldaña.  As if hatched from the imagination of Pedro Almodóvar, four powerful Spanish-speaking women are at the center of this picture, and not just any ordinary women, but overlooked women who defy expectations with a fierce independent streak that breaks through the restricting walls of societal convention, finding new ground, new transformations, creating a challenging experience for viewers, where the melodramatic overreach may astound some and piss off others, effortlessly switching between the searing drama of Mexico’s brutal drug wars and rousing musical numbers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  Even the locations can be deceiving, as the film was not made in Mexico, as it appears, but in Paris studios, where the director had more control integrating the dance numbers.  It cannot be emphasized enough that this is a Spanish-language movie made by a French director who doesn’t speak Spanish, using a mostly foreign cast, where the boldness of the artistic vision comes from the mind of Jacques Audiard, a defining filmmaker of our generation and an ardent social realist with films like The Beat That My Heart Skipped (De battre mon coeu... (2005), 2010 Top Ten Films of the Year: #10 A Prophet ... (2009), Rust and Bone (De rouille et d'os) (2011), winning the Palme d’Or with Dheepan (2015), and more recently 2021 #6 Film of the Year Paris, 13th District (Les Olympiades, Paris 13e).  Loosely adapted from Le Monde editor Boris Razon's 2018 novel Écoute, where a minor character is a transgender drug dealer, and perhaps inspired by the experimental approach to emotional extremes in Léos Carax’s audacious rock opera ANNETTE (2021), this is part of the filmmaker’s ongoing quest to explore new cinematic forms, with a unique mixture of tension, amped up emotions, and social relevance, where Audiard along with Thomas Bidegain, Nicolas Livecchi, and Léa Mysius developed the screenplay from what Audiard originally intended to be an opera libretto in four acts, with original songs by French pop musician Camille Dalmais, an original score by her partner Clément Ducol, and choreography by Damien Jamet.  Recalling Kornél Mundruczó’s experimental operatic film JOHANNA (2005), this is filtered through the stream-of-conscience, poetic realism of Jacques Demy’s The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (Les Parapluies de Cherbourg) (1964) and the kaleidoscopic, avant-garde modernism of Bob Fosse’s All That Jazz (1979).  Nothing can prepare you for this intoxicating movie adventure, an exhilarating experience when seen in theaters, literally a cinema of flamboyant excess, finding an expressive language that can only be captured in cinema, where particularly memorable is cinematographer Paul Guilhaume’s swirling 35mm camera, which would be extremely paired down in size and scale if streamed on Netflix, where each viewer brings their own individual experience into this bombastic encounter.  Taking bold creative leaps, audaciously mixing pop opera, a narco thriller, and a gender affirmation drama, using brightly lit colors, continuous camera movements, and the most striking rhythmic choreographies, with Audiard becoming a master of emotional storytelling, as unpredictable as life itself, this is a film that grabs hold of you and never lets go, doing something very special and unique, co-produced by the Dardenne brothers and none other than the House of Saint Laurent.

Moving freely between characters, the film opens with Rita (Zoe Saldaña), a sharp attorney who is disillusioned with the system, sick of her secondary role, doing all the legwork behind the scenes while others receive the spotlight and adulation that she earned, but never receives, while also tired of keeping guilty affluent clients from being convicted, like enabling a domestic abuser to go free after murdering his wife, so in something of a surprise move she finds herself abducted and offered an extremely lucrative job working for the leader of a ruthless Mexican drug cartel who has an interesting proposition.  With the chance to earn money beyond her dreams, where she’ll be set up for life, she is tasked with navigating his way through a botched, under-the-table sex change operation, becoming a story about a woman trapped in a man’s body, helping him stage his fake death, where the film accentuates the emotional fallout and repercussions of living under a cloud of deception and lies, becoming a movie about discovering the truth about yourself.  Starring Spanish transgender actress Karla Sofia Gascón, the first openly trans performer to win an award at Cannes, who has a long history acting in Mexican telenovelas, as the notorious druglord Manitas Del Monte transformed into her authentic true self, Emilia Pérez, this is a visually dazzling, gender-affirming thriller where in a moment’s notice characters break out into song or eye-popping dance numbers, providing a breathtaking energy that defies anything we’ve ever seen, dealing with themes of homosexuality, opportunism, crime, injustice, lovelessness, loneliness, betrayal, and solidarity.  Unlike the Bob Fosse approach of uninterrupted dance routines that accentuates the dexterity of the dancers, this prefers a quick-cutting editing method, which is more of a music video style that epitomizes the fractured psychological mindset of the characters, literally upending all expectations with ingenious plot twists, dazzling spectacle, and inspired musical detours, revealing the qualities of the telenovelas, which are so successful in Mexico, where this stylized potpourri is a means to express the dreams and anxieties of an entire culture struggling against corruption, violence, and fear.  One of the most fascinating aspects is how Audiard is able to transmit the different stages of Emilia’s journey, with the changing modulation of tones, plunging the viewer into different psychological mindsets, creating a balance between dark humor and emotional complexity.  While Audiard brings hard-edged arthouse credentials, known for profound character studies, innovative narrative techniques, and strong visual language, often featuring tortured male characters who operate through deceit and violence, where a common thread in all his films is having to make tough ethical choices and then living with the consequences.  His films carry considerable philosophical weight, having studied literature and philosophy at the Sorbonne with the intention of becoming a teacher, but he instead transitioned to cinema, starting out as an assistant editor on Roman Polanski’s THE TENANT (1976), where he is now generally regarded as the heir to the French cinema of Jean-Pierre Melville and Henri-Georges Clouzot.  One of the more emotionally fraught scenes is the personal confession of Manitas before the surgery, revealing to Rita his longtime desire to transition and live openly as the woman she knows herself to be, which is the point we realize he’s not using gender-affirming surgery as a plot device for criminal schemes, but is a genuine longing for authenticity, as she wants to live the life she always felt was inside her, exploring the joys and challenges that can follow a transition, acknowledging that as a man, he “never wanted to desire and never wanted to be desired.”  Advocating for the surgery, Rita responds with her own uniquely compelling lyrics, “Changing the body changes the soul/Changing the soul changes society/Changing society changes everything!”

Rita manages to pull everything off, finding a distinguished doctor abroad who emphasizes that while he can help facilitate a change in physical appearance, it’s up to each individual patient to alter their psychological mindset, as otherwise they will remain stuck in the same unhappy mental framework, while also setting up bank accounts for Manitas’ wife, Jessi (Selena Gomez) and her two young children, ushering them off to Switzerland, out of danger from rival cartels, yet even they are oblivious to what has happened.  Viewers, however, are privy to the transformation, along with Rita as the only one who knows, where one central theme that stands out is whether someone can really escape their past completely, as Emilia is unable to sever existing relationships and attitudes, bringing Jessi and the kids back to a large compound in Mexico City, passing herself off as an affluent, distant aunt in order to have them closer to her, where in the words of Faulkner in one of his best-known lines from Requiem for a Nun, “The past is never dead.  It’s not even past.  All of us labor in webs spun long before we were born, webs of heredity and environment, of desire and consequence, of history and eternity.”  Somewhere in that tangled universe this film exists, leaving us to make of it what we will.  One of the lingering questions Audiard answers is whether a straight director can tell trans stories without bringing ingrained stereotypical prejudices and cliché’s.  Just as important is the accuracy of Audiard’s portrayal of Mexico, a patriarchal machismo society where women are often voiceless and have to endure a great deal of violence, yet at the same time they are also the ones who hold everything together with their love, empathy, resilience, and, ultimately, hope.  The fact that Manitas wants to become a woman encapsulates these very contradictions, making this an unequivocally Mexican tale largely told in Spanish, one that embodies the very essence of the country, both in narrative and form, and raises complex, even controversial questions.  Taking things further, the triumph of the film is the unwavering strength of the four featured women in such dramatically different roles, where their appeal is universal, as recognized by the Cannes jury.  The film also highlights the plight of families trying to find the tens of thousands of missing people, or desaparecidos (Families in Latin America demand justice for the disappeared), whose murders have been hidden across Latin America, while over 100,000 people have disappeared just in Mexico over the last 10 years.  By attempting to right the wrongs in her life and make amends for the brutality of her former sins, finding an undercurrent of regret that shades her character, Emilia discovers Epifanía (Adriana Paz), an abused wife who helps her rediscover the rewards of love and tenderness and desire, which feels like a breath of fresh air, adding a softer element to the surrounding tragedy, with an emergence of a self she can finally recognize as her own, leading a campaign for truth and social justice, where the manner in which Audiard interweaves these stories is truly innovative.  But Jessi longs for love and a glamorous life, believing Manitas to be dead, so she moves on with her life, right into the arms of another drug lord in Gustavo (Édgar Ramírez), something Emilia can’t bear to watch, as she’s still jealous and possessive, where her past eventually catches up to her, facing a fascinating moral conundrum.  Gascón offers a particularly soulful performance, while the film is a Shakespearean-level tragedy that grapples with questions of love, identity, forgiveness, and grief, where the unique style is as eye-opening as the emotionally gripping yet revelatory subject matter, where the film helps normalize a frequently targeted and systemically marginalized group.

Guillermo del Toro & Jacques Audiard discuss Emilia Pérez ... YouTube (19:58)

Girl

 

Director Lukas Dhont

Dhont with Victor Polster

Victor Polster

Dhont with Victor Polster

Angelo Tijssens, Victor Polster, and Lukas Dhont

GIRL              B+                                                                                                                      Belgium  Netherlands  (105 mi)  2018  d: Lukas Dhont                             

I don’t want to be an example.  I want to be a girl.                                                                          —Lara (Victor Polster)

A somewhat radical work inspired by the life of trans dancer Nora Monsecour, born male with aspirations of becoming a ballerina, it initially screened in the Un Certain Regard section at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival with Monsecour in attendance, where it received a standing ovation that lasted through the entirety of the credits, winning the Camera d’Or award for best first feature film, also winning the Queer Palm, while 15-year-old actor Victor Polster won the Un Certain Regard Jury Award for Best Performance.  This is a deeply moving and in-your-face portrait of the travails associated with gender conversion, where hormone therapy and the anticipation of gender reassignment surgery accentuate not only the physical challenges, but the existential duress of having to wait, which becomes overly suffocating, underscored by the overly restrained performance of Polster, perfectly capturing her repressed inner thoughts and feelings, where she even gets bullied by the other girls, who have an advantage, as they’ve always been a girl, so they feel comfortable in their self-identity, while a woman in transition is flooded by anxiety and self-doubt, where nothing ever feels right, forever waiting to just feel comfortable in your own body.  The film has faced some heavy criticism because the main character isn’t played by an actual transgender, fueled by trans critic Oliver Whitney’s alarmist guest essay from The Hollywood Reporter, describing the film as a “danger to the transgender community,” claiming the film has a “disturbing fascination with trans bodies,” focusing on a dramatically impactful scene near the end, describing it as sadistic exploitation, basically trans trauma porn for uneducated audiences, echoed by Northwestern Gender & Sexual Studies professor Nick Davis in Film Comment, who believes the film is part of a long history of cruel, transphobic storytelling, Short Take: Girl, finding the voyeuristic finale unforgiving, Nick-Davis.com: Girl, Cathy Brennan from BFI Sight and Sound thinks it accentuates fears, (It's winning awards, but Girl is no victory for trans ...), Caden Mark Gardner from Reverse Shot (Girl) thinks the film is potentially harmful in its “abhorrent irresponsibility,” Tre’vell Anderson from Out magazine claims it’s a missed opportunity to properly contextualize the experience, (Netflix's 'Girl' is Dangerous and Doesn't Deserve an Oscar), while further skepticism is voiced by K. Austin Collins from Vanity Fair (There's No Good Reason to Watch Belgium's Controversial ...), expressing outright anger in the reckless way the trans experience is overly traumatized, with a collective view finding it dangerously self-destructive while bordering on transphobic.  Clearly the film has polarized the gay and trans community on which it focuses, yet Dhont has weathered the criticism and steadfastly defended his “right” to tell the story, where there’s nothing erotic or fetishized in his style, while Monsecour responded to Whitney with her own guest essay (Belgium Oscar Submission 'Girl' Is a “Message of Courage”), writing that “those criticizing Girl are preventing another trans story from being shared in the world, and are also attempting to silence me and my trans identity.”  While the criticisms are valid and should not be overlooked, they feel like a distinctly American reaction, excessively harsh, fixated on rendering judgment, as if there’s a “right way” to contextualize the trans experience, yet there are more benefits to this film than is suggested.  This film does not attempt to speak for everyone, but provides an authentic character–driven narrative that’s applicable to one person’s search for identity, which is beautifully realized, serving as an example to a young director, courageously believing a trans story deserved to be heard, offering a unique window into an experience that viewers would not otherwise have, which couldn’t be more relevant.   Despite having a loving and supporting family, encountering difficulties is the norm, with nearly half of transgender and nonbinary youth in America considering suicide in 2022, and just under one in five attempting suicide (the numbers are higher for people of color), which is exacerbated by anti-trans laws that outlaw literature, art, histories, and even health care, a sentiment raging through the Republican Party in America at the moment, introducing more than 400 anti-trans bills already this year in an attempt to legislate them out of existence. Republican legislative leaders in Montana, in a strictly party-line vote, just voted to banish Democratic Rep. Zooey Zephyr (ZoAndBehold - Rep. Zooey Zephyr), the state’s first transgender legislator, from participating in the legislative session on the House floor, barred from all debates, prohibited from entering the chambers until the end of the legislative session, relegated to a bench in the hallway and will only be allowed to vote remotely, Montana Republicans bar transgender lawmaker from House floor for rest of session.  There is no sense that this film in any way shapes that political argument, which is motivated purely by transphobic hatred, yet this deeply humane film does offer an immersive psychological perspective that may help lead to a more educated and openly empathetic viewpoint, shedding light on a subject that has long been ignored. 

It should be noted that Lukas Dhont is an openly gay filmmaker who embraces LGBTQ themes, having worked as a costume design assistant on film and television sets when he was a teenager while his mother works as a fashion teacher at an art school.  Still in the closet when he entered film school, with a younger brother Michiel who’s also gay, he had his own experiences making that transition into being himself, describing that period in his life, “Not only about my sexuality, I was just also not myself.  I think I had created this armor to protect me.  One of my teachers said, ‘You don’t seem to have a personality.’  She was so right.  I had become this collage of other people’s personalities.”  Discovering his own identity after watching Belgium filmmaker Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce,1080 Bruxelles (1975), he immersed himself into the works of gay filmmakers Céline Sciamma, Xavier Dolan, and Pedro Almodóvar, and there is an intimacy to the film that evokes the near documentary style of Sciamma’s Tomboy (2011), with an original score by Valentin Hadjadj, 22D Prod / Valentin Hadjadj - Flying (From "GIRL" Original ... YouTube (3:17).  Written in collaboration with theater director Angelo Tijssens, taking ten years before bringing this work into fruition, their real objective was to make a film about gender dysphoria that transgenders could identify with, as there are so few films they can connect with, one of the few being Sebastián Lelio’s A Fantastic Woman (Una Mujer Fantástica) (2018), which features a remarkable performance from a transgender actress.  It should also be pointed out that Nora Monsecour, who worked closely with both Dhont and Polster on the film, was “really offended” by Whitney’s comments, especially those that invalidate her experience with suggestions that Dhont made the film out of his cisgender perspective.  In an interview with indieWIRE (Girl: Netflix Film Stirs Controversy Over Who Owns Trans ...), she clarified that “My story is not a fantasy of the cis director.  Lara’s story is my story,” and while it isn’t a biography, “the essence of the story is the same.”  According to Monsecour, she was similarly bullied, and had teachers who “didn’t believe that transgender was something that existed in the world,” eventually moving away from ballet into contemporary dance.  She has enthusiastically endorsed Polster’s performance, acknowledging, “In one of our first conversations, I said to Lukas that I didn’t care at all if the actor was male, female, transgender, lesbian, gay.  For me, it was very important that Lara… be played by someone who had a lot of love and empathy for the character, [and] was also a very good dancer.  When I saw pictures of Victor, I thought to myself, ‘this is it, he is it.’ ”  The film follows Lara (Victor Polster), a 15-year old trans girl and aspiring ballet dancer who is frustrated that her hormone therapy isn’t working fast enough and that her body is different from the other girls in her class, constantly checking herself in the mirror, becoming an intensive exposé of her inner conflict and her struggle for self-acceptance.  To dance as a woman requires en pointe skills (Pointe technique), only taught to girls, so Lara is years behind, yet to dance professionally she needs to be accepted into a highly competitive girls’ class at the prestigious Royal Ballet School in Antwerp, with additional one-on-one time needed from a private instructor, played by the real-life Belgian choreographer Marie-Louise Wilderijckx.  Featuring extensive footage of physically demanding classes, Lara is both in her element and out of it at the same time, blending in beautifully with a group of extremely talented young dancers, yet the meticulous steps she takes to tape her male genitals to her body has its costs, placing her body through additional stress, enduring more pain than the others, which accumulates with each session, preferring to use a private restroom afterwards, remaining isolated as she removes the tape, leaving behind nasty red marks.  Interspered are regular visits with a team of sex reassignment doctors, including psychiatrist Dr. Pascal (Valentijn Dhaenens) and surgeon Dr. Naert (Katelijne Damen), who evaluate her readiness for the procedure, requiring multiple evaluations, always accompanied by her father (Arieh Worthalter), and while consistently offering encouragement, she’s obviously frustrated at the length of time it takes before scheduling the surgery.  Making matters worse, she refuses to discuss her feelings with her father, always indicating everything’s fine, though she’s rapidly losing weight from the grueling rehearsals and enveloping anxiety.  

Lara never conveys the emotions bubbling under the surface and struggles to maintain an even disposition, but there are moments where a line is crossed.  She has an affectionate relationship with her younger brother Milo (Olivar Bodart), often falling asleep in her arms, and while there’s an absent mother, there are indications this is a loving and supportive family.  Rushing to get Milo ready for school one morning, her little brother is uncooperative, forcing Lara to dress him, but he rebuffs her attempts, angrily calling her Victor, the male name she was born with, creating a deafening pause that seems to last an eternity.  Never one to overreact, she keeps her emotions in check, but she’s devastated by the cruel intent coming from such a loving source.  Complicating matters, Lara is going through adolescent puberty, encouraged by her psychiatrist to explore her romantic inclinations, as that’s something she needn’t put on hold, suggesting she’s just like anyone else in this regard.  There’s a neighbor in her building that interests her, Lewis (Tijmen Govaerts), so she cleverly choreographs chance meetings, hoping her attraction will open up new opportunities, yet as things get intimate, she hesitates, terrified about being exposed, and ends up bolting out of fear.  While she’s led to believe she already is a woman, and who she wants to be, she’s just not there yet.  While she is surprisingly accepted at school (reflective of Belgium’s progressive social tolerance), allowed to use the woman’s restroom with no issue, not really standing out, the same can’t be said for how she’s viewed by the other female dancers, who are more than a little curious about her male anatomy, and while the girls shower together after class, Lara always disappears, which only heightens their growing suspicions.  One of the dancers openly confronts her, handing her a towel, leaving her no avenues of escape, so she joins the other girls while wearing shorts in the communal shower, yet it clearly pains her to be there, choosing to be off to the side, while the others joke around and talk amongst themselves like teenage girls.  This leads to a sleepover, where she’s led to believe she’s been accepted as one of the girls, yet she’s offered separate living quarters away from the other girls, an ominous sign, but then she’s cornered by a dozen women and bullied into exposing her male anatomy, causing great distress, fleeing in embarrassment afterwards, arriving home unexpectedly, surprising her father who’s with another woman on an apparent date, which just elevates the awkwardness of the moment.  The tension only escalates, as her doctors are concerned by the breakdown of body tissue from her continual taping during dance rehearsals, something they don’t recommend, as the possibility for infection increases over time, which will further delay her plans for surgery.  The emotional trauma is really exposed in this film, as Lara feels more and more like a stranger in someone else’s body.  When she takes her doctor’s advice and dances without the tape, the anxiety it causes is overwhelming, which affects her ability to dance, losing her balance and sense of self, where it’s a struggle to make it through the lesson, sweating profusely, something she never does.  This becomes an excruciating ordeal that borders on psychological horror, veering into the grotesque, a metaphor for the disturbing territory of suicidal impulses that are taking over, becoming a calamity of epic proportions, reflecting the reality of the experience where so many have lost their lives because they could not accept themselves.  While it is never an issue whether a trans women is able to perform with her biological counterparts, the psychological toll it takes is simply overwhelming, exposing her darkest thoughts, where it can become insufferable after a while.  Filming by Frank van den Eeden is mostly done with hand-held cameras, often shot in close quarters, emphasizing a feeling of being cramped and claustrophobic.  It’s a moving and highly accomplished portrait of the difficulties associated with any transgender realignment, told through a social realist lens, where the obsession with the human anatomy is especially applicable in the world of ballet, as the human form expresses the artistic vision in a relentless pursuit of perfection, with the film offering a real sense of the physicality of ballet and the toll it takes on Lara’s body.  The isolation she experiences is accentuated by what’s uniquely different about her, where the harrowing journey is about struggling to find acceptance, learning to love yourself, offering hope for those struggling through similar circumstances, with the director meticulously taking viewers through the depths of the experience.    

watch dancer Nora Monsecour perform YouTube (2:24)