Emilia Pérez, Intersectionality, and “Good” Representation

With thirteen Academy Award nominations, twelve British Academy Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) nominations, and ten Golden Globe nominations, Netflix’s Emilia Pérez defined the 2024 awards scene. Critics initially praised the movie-musical for its inclusivity, covering underserved topics such as Mexico’s cartel crisis and, within that, the struggles of the transgender community. Yet, with a director and production crew entirely composed of White, French people, a comically extravagant musical spin, and a controversially turbulent plot, Emilia Pérez has met a slurry of discontent and offense from every community it aims to represent. 

Emilia Pérez follows a Mexican drug lord, Manitas, who fakes his death and undergoes a sex change operation with the help of kidnapped lawyer, Rita. After a successful transition, Manitas—now, Emilia Pérez—seeks justice for the country’s “disappeared,” or victims of drug and crime related violence. The audience sees Emilia’s struggles as she reconnects with her former wife and child and confronts shadows of her past, all while concealing her former identity. Forty-three songs comprise the movie-musical’s soundtrack in its two hour ten minute running time, and it earns just over five out of ten stars on IMDB despite being only three spots away from the most nominated film of all time. Emilia Pérez undeniably made a splash in the world of cinema and brought widespread attention to neglected issues, but attention alone may not be worth celebrating when thousands of watchers feel misrepresented by the film.

Mexico’s Cartel Crisis 

The drug war in Mexico has seen over 460,000 homicides since 2006, with reported disappearances of over 100,000 people since 1964. The Mexican government has been at war with the country’s drug cartels for almost two decades with minimal progress, with citizens feeling helpless amidst the immense loss and persistent violence. Efforts to dismantle cartels and end the war through police action, protests, and foreign intervention have been immense, but the cartels’ stronghold on political power and the Mexican state remains unbroken.

Cinematic interpretations of the crisis, like Emilia Pérez, can certainly raise awareness, but risk downplaying the gravity of the issue for entertainment value. Critics question the creators’ decision to portray a violent cartel boss as a human rights advocate, while the film pushes the tragedy of Mexico’s disappearances into the periphery. Arguably, the movie makes a spectacle of a devastating and ongoing conflict, failing to accurately convey the pain of the war and instead leaning on extravagant musical and dance numbers to advance the plot.

The film’s controversy isn’t limited to its on-screen content, as its White, French director and production team lack a cultural connection to Mexico. Shot entirely in France, the film cast only one Mexican lead, Adriana Paz, who appears halfway through the movie. Finally, its Director, Jacques Audiard, does not speak Spanish—the primary language of the film. With Netflix’s wallet and a star-studded cast, any film of Emilia Pérez’s caliber could reach millions: a potential that comes with the responsibility to tell such a sensitive story respectfully and accurately. This is not possible without Mexican leadership within the movie, coupled with a dialogue greatly informed by firsthand experience with Mexican culture and the history of its cartel violence. Emilia Pérez lacks both. 

Critics from Mexico see the film as exploitative, using a current tragedy to entertain the masses and generate awards buzz. Emilia Pérez did not see initial commercial success, as its box office revenue made up for a little over half of the film’s $26 million budget. However, the film’s success in the awards scene is undeniably impressive. No other non-English-language film has reached its record of thirteen Oscar nominations. 

While exposure usually entails education, Mexican viewers very quickly realized that the film was created to impress critics or organizations like the Academy, rather than resonate with Mexican residents. In an interview with BBC Mundo, Eugenio Derbez, Mexican actor and producer, noted that the film’s dialogue sounds strange to Mexicans and misrepresents Mexican speech to viewers who do not speak Spanish. The movie wasn’t released in Mexico until 2025—five months after its debut in France, making the creators’ intentions clear. Emilia Pérez was, for the most part, not made by nor for Mexicans; Audiard created Emilia Pérez for a long awards run at the expense of the serious topics it addresses. 

The Transgender Community

In a climate where the trans community is at risk, Emilia Pérez’s take on the trans experience—if executed thoughtfully—has the capacity to raise international awareness and change the narrative surrounding gender. Particularly, the film’s star, Karla Sofía Gascón, was the first openly trans actor to be nominated for an Academy Award. While milestones like Gascón’s undoubtedly deserve to be celebrated, the film’s controversies make it difficult to appreciate the historical significance of its success.

For one, journalist Sarah Hagi exposed Gascón’s bigoted tweets from 2020 about George Floyd and the Muslim and Asian communities. Due to Gascón’s misuse of social media and accusations she made against another Oscar nominee, Netflix distanced Gascón from the tail-end of the film’s marketing, but she still appeared at the Oscars ceremony. It is near impossible for a film like Emilia Pérez to spread a message of acceptance and inclusivity when its star and title-character actress repeatedly put down other minority groups, contradicting the intersectionality the film intends to embody.  

Apart from Gascón’s problematic behavior, many members of the trans community see Emilia Pérez as a step back for LGBTQ+ representation. Film critic and trans activist Amelia Hansford said it best: “Emilia Pérez is primarily a film about being reborn, and it tries to use the idea of transitioning to convey that through her transition, Emilia is trying to repent for the sins she committed in her time as cartel boss,” wrote Hansford. “The issue with this is that transition isn’t a moral decision, and the act of transitioning alone doesn’t somehow absolve you of your past self. It isn’t a death, nor is it a rebirth.”

A litany of other trans voices in the film community share Hansford’s reservations. Many believed that the film sensationalized the process of transitioning, while others believed it unabashedly perpetuated harmful, negative stereotypes surrounding trans women. The character Emilia Pérez is portrayed as reckless, violent, and dangerous. She leaves her family behind, and uses her power and wealth to achieve her goals without regard for others. 

Intersectionality and Representation

Emilia Pérez’s attempt to represent multiple modern crises feels less like an authentic depiction of how two communities intersect, and more like a half-hearted attempt to levy support for the film. The dangers of gang culture and the stigma around transitioning are portrayed shallowly, skewed in a desperate grab for critical acclaim and entertainment value—funnily enough, as the film was widely seen as “terribly executed.” Praising filmmakers for baseline inclusion of underrepresented communities incentivizes disingenuous inclusion, not authenticity. Representation must be holistic, equitable, and highly informed by real-world experiences. 

In a society that marginalizes trans people and ignores Mexico’s war, films like Emilia Pérez greatly influence each community’s reputation and the world’s treatment of its members. It is not only disappointing that the film’s director failed to adequately consider these needs and include more diverse voices in the film’s creation, but it is upsetting to see acclaimed organizations like the Academy, BAFTA, and Golden Globes reward this behavior amidst a sea of complaints from Mexican and transgender activists. These prestigious award ceremonies have the unique ability to define the best cinema of the year and draw attention to the dynamic nature of film. Let Emilia Pérez be a reminder to them, representation is only step one.

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