I found Emilia Pérez difficult to write about. Why? Jacques Audiard is not part of either the trans or Mexican communities. And both groups have had some very serious criticisms over Audiard’s often trope-ish and out-dated presentation of his subjects. Carlos Aguilar, for Roger Ebert, was positive in his overall review but, politely yet adamantly, made it clear, multiple times, that Emilia Pérez “is not a Mexican film”. Drew Burnett Gregory, writing for Autostraddle, was far more disapproving: “I do not think only trans people can tell trans stories, but I’m curious when we will cease to be a metaphor. I’m curious when cis people who are fascinated enough to make movies about us will also be fascinated enough to learn anything about us.”
Explanations on Film Colossus are not reviews. They’re literary analyses that help people understand themes, meaning, symbolism, etc. As Drew noted, Emilia is used as a metaphor. And that metaphor is the central thesis of the entire film. So the explanation is a breakdown of what that is, how it’s developed, and what Audiard ultimately tries to say with it. Please keep in mind that writing about the metaphor doesn’t mean I’m endorsing, defending, or championing it. Not everyone gets what a movie is doing on first watch. So the goal is to provide people with clarification on what happened and why. Having that, they can then more confidently decide how they feel.
With that said, let’s get into Emilia Pérez’s ending, themes, and meaning.
Emilia Pérez ending explained
A small light
To understand the end of Emilia Pérez, we first have to contextualize the symbolism of the characters and the stakes of the film.
Forgive me if you’ve heard this spiel before, but movies often operate on two levels. The literal and the metaphorical. My favorite example is Gravity. On the literal level, Gravity’s about a space-mission gone wrong and an astronaut’s attempts to make it back to Earth. On the metaphorical level, the astronaut is a mother grieving the death of a child—space represents her depression, and the return to Earth is her struggle to move forward with her life. That’s what art allows you to do—take something familiar and defamiliarize it through metaphor so it feels new.
In Emilia Pérez, Emilia’s change in identity, from cartel king Juan “Manitas” Del Monte to a queen of philanthropy, represents a shift in the spirit of Mexico itself. Emilia is the embodiment of a cultural redemption and progression. We see that echoed in Rita. Initially, Rita’s part of a corrupt judicial system that helps powerful people get away with literal murder. But at the La Lucecita banquet, Rita finally feels, thanks to Emilia, like she’s making the corrupt pay for their sins by donating to this transformative cause. The song Rita sings is called “El Mal” or “The Evil”.
Some of the lyrics (translated by Google):
- Look at the secretary of supposedly “public” education
- Specialist in ghost companies
- Today his contracts, yes, are real
- But the so-called “schools” are not built
- Now, tell us, Chucho
- Where did you get your jet, your pool, your hotel?
- Look at the “Gober”, governor
- Who voted for him, the people or the cartel?
- Ah, he bought, oh yes, one by one the votes of the peasants
- Pay, pay the cartel, honey
- They are already sitting on your f***ing throne
- Talk, these people talk. But now they’re going to pay, to pay, to pay.
“El Mal” signals a tipping point. The ethos of Mexico (according to the film) had been crooked profiteering for personal gain. But now that money will go back to the people and start to change the community for the better. Emilia, Rita, and the nonprofit become this small light in the darkness. A light that will hopefully continue to grow, until it illuminates a better tomorrow.
Past and present collide
So we’ve established the progressivism embodied by Emilia and Rita. On the flip side, you have Jessi. She has no connection to any of the social progress going on. Her main concern is reigniting and indulging in the affair she had had with Gustavo Brun. While the movie doesn’t develop Gustavo, he seems to be another cartel guy, not as successful as Emilia had been but connected enough to have a nice car, nice clothes, and to give Jessi the lifestyle she wants. Not to mention the henchmen necessary to kidnap Emilia and have a shootout with her people. All this positions Jessi and Gustavo as opposites of Emilia and Rita. Representatives of the previous ideology of el mal.
On the personal level, Jessi is a direct connection to Emilia’s past as Manitas. Notice how almost every interaction between them is historic in nature. Always looking backwards. Initially, it’s just reflective. But after Jessi wants to move forward with her life and live with Gustavo, Emilia gives in to emotions and behaviors from her previous life. She becomes more cartel boss than nonprofit leader.
And because Emilia represents this new zeitgeist, what happens to her affects the community as a whole. So the fallout with Jessi results in Emilia’s kidnapping. It’s a return to the old ways. Rita’s once again caught up in nefarious deals. Emilia’s back in cartel drama. And La Lucecita’s work stops. The people suffer.
Emilia, the martyr
During the final showdown, Emilia finally opens up to Jessi, sharing details of their courtship and marriage that no one else could know. On the literal level, Emilia doesn’t expect to survive so wants to finally tell Jessi the truth. Jessi is, of course, stunned. But before she can regroup, Gustavo brings the two women to the car. He throws Emilia in the trunk.
At this point, the metaphor has been stretched a bit thin, but it’s still present. Gustavo is the final boss representing the old, evil ways. If he succeeds and Emilia perishes, it will mean tradition defeats progress. The only one who can stop him is Jessi. Jessi had been the privileged person who hadn’t paid any attention to the social issues around her because she was benefitting from the corrupt system. But once she knows who Emilia really is, it causes Jessi to have a change of heart. She stands up for Emilia and thus stands up for change.
To give a real world example of what that means: in the United States, only 50-60% of the eligible voting population participates in presidential elections. Nearly half of the country is completely apathetic to who is in charge. Imagine if 30% of those apathetic voters were suddenly galvanized and showed up to the polls. Or if the 1% voluntarily decided to pay more taxes for social programs.
Plot-wise, the result is tragic. Gustavo crashes the car. The vehicle explodes and everyone inside perishes. Metaphorically, though, the crash is a kind of closure. All three characters had been part of the cartel tradition. And despite Emilia’s redemptive efforts, she still carried the weight of her former life as head of a cartel. Ultimately, Emilia Peréz is a morality tale, a story about right and wrong, good and evil. Because of that, Emilia’s previous sins were always going to catch up with her. But, before they did, she got to be a parent to her children, she got to feel a new, true love with Epifanía, and she got to set in motion a cultural evolution.
Because of Rita, Emilia’s soldiers, and Jessi’s turning on Gustavo, the $30 million in blackmail money never changes hands. Which means Rita can still fund La Lucecita. And in the world of the movie, La Lucecita embodies progress. If Gustavo had won, he’d have made off with the money, and probably killed Emilia, and then there would be no hope.
In art, kids almost always represent future generations. That’s why the end of Megalopolis uses a baby to emphasize a hopeful tomorrow. While something like Possession has a child drown in order to punctuate its bleak vision of what’s to come. In Emilia Peréz, Emilia’s and Jessi’s sacrifice essentially serves to guarantee a better future for their children. The kids will grow up without the sins of their parents over them, with Rita as their new family, in a city that’s evolving.
That brings us to the last parade. Led by Epifanía, the parade positions Emilia as a martyr, a kind of modern saint. The public turns out to honor her. The film’s final shot focuses on the effigy of Emilia. That codifies this idea that Emilia Pérez has transcended into an ideal that has inspired the public. Service trumps selfishness. An ideal that could spread throughout the nation. An ideal that reminds people: change is possible.
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Cast
- Emilia Pérez/Manitas – Karla Sofia Gascón
- Rita Mora Castro – Zoe Saldaña
- Epifanía Flores – Adriana Paz
- Jessi Del Monte – Selena Gomez
- Gustavo Brun – Édgar Ramirez
- Dr. Wasserman – Mark Ivanir
- Inspired by – The novel Écoute by Boris Razon
- Written by – Jacques Audiard
- Directed by – Jacques Audiard
