Promising Starts, Headscratcher Endings: Emilia Perez & Queer

2024 has been a great year for me, film-wise. Thanks to my near-obsession with tracking metrics about my life, I know that, as of December 26th, I’ve watched exactly 125 films this year. It’s not extraordinary, but given my target of 100 films per year, I’d say I’m doing pretty well. Among these 125 films are Emilia Perez and Queer. While they have little in common in terms of subject matter, themes, or style, they share a strikingly similar viewing experience for me. Both of these films start very strong, but their endings leave the viewer confused as to how the narrative ended up where it did.

With this post, I’m lamenting a different issue from what I wrote about the Cut in a previous post because The Cut presented a mesmerizing, coherent storyline that fell apart just at the last minute. That was not the case with Emilia Perez and Queer. Interestingly, both of these films are similarly rated on Rotten Tomatoes (75 and 76 out of 100), though I doubt that has anything to do with my perception as a viewer.

Needless to say, I will talk about the details of the plot as well as the endings, so please do not proceed any further if these films are still on your to-watch list.

An obvious disclaimer here is that I’m not a film critic and I do not work in the film industry, nor do I have any relevant academic education. You should treat these opinions with the same reverence you would a long tweet from a random blue check account on Twitter.

Emilia Perez

Emilia Perez starts off with a bang: Fast-paced, thrilling musical sequences set mostly in Mexico City, beautifully directed and performed by Rita, the main character as well as pedestrians-turned-ensemble as their movements get progressively more rythmic. Soon after we find out that the ruthless leader of a drug cartel wants to hire Rita (Zoe Saldana) for the unorthodox task of finding him a doctor that will help him transition. A few years go by, and Rita and Emilia meet again. We find out that Emilia misses her children, and would like to go back to Mexico to live with them as their aunt, without them or her ex-wife (Selena Gomez) discovering her new identity. Emilia takes time to reflect on her criminal past and starts an organization with Rita’s assistance to help victims’ families find the bodies of their loved ones.

At the same time, Selena Gomez rekindles an old relationship, one she’d hidden from her then husband with one of his subordinates. Amidst all this, the narrative detours into distractions like politically charged songs about political corruption in Mexico, Emilia’s new relationship with a woman who’s lost her husband to drug-related crime, and we also briefly touch on Emilia’s relationship with her children. And all of that culminates in a shoot-out and a subsequent chase scene, during which Emilia’s car swerves off the road into the bottom of a valley and explodes.

Reflecting on the story, it seems that after the pivotal meeting in the London restaurant, the narrative veers off track, struggling to decide what it wants to focus on. It jumps into many subplots that don’t seem to contribute meaningfully to the overall arc of the story. By the time the ending arrives, none of this makes any sense, and while the intention seems to be for the ending to feel hard-hitting and devastating, it just comes across as confusing.

Queer

Next up is Queer. I’ve enjoyed other films by Luca Guadagnino in the past (Call Me By Your Name, Challengers, Bones and All) though I’m not a very dedicated fan as I’ve mostly watched his more recent work. The film has colorful and flashy aesthetics and beautifully set up shots, and the music, while anachronistic, contributes to the sensational Daniel Craig whose performance I would categorize as award-worthy. He perfectly captures the essence of the character, even when the plot loses its way, about halfway through the film.

Much like Emilia Perez, Queer starts with an electrifying opening sequence that immediately draws you in, during which Lee (Daniel Craig), a retired military man who’s decided to spend his twilight years living south of border in Mexico, is going around town eyeing potential hook up candidates for the day. A few days later he meets Eugene (Drew Starkey), who he falls in love with at first sight. The story soon becomes one of one way love, of Lee desperately trying for Eugene’s attention affection while he offers none. After lots of pleading, they finally set off to travel to even further south, to Panama and Ecuador together.

The trip itself, which I think was meant to portray an intense and emotional bonding period for the pair, seems almost irrelevant to what happens later in the story. That’s because throughout the trip, Eugene remains cold and uninterested, showing no signs of warming to Lee whatsoever. Finally, as this trip comes to a close, the two pay a visit to a primitivist botanist who lives deep in a jungle where a magical drug (yagé) grows. After taking this drug together, Lee and Eugene both enter a dream of fog and haze during which their bodies merge in and out of each other, and their souls appear to connect on a level simply not possible via normal human interaction. This has such a grave spiritual impact on the two that Eugene, frightened after having looked so deep into Lee’s soul, is scared off and refuses to take it again. Unfortunately, by the time this scene unfolds, it feels unconvincing and so disjointed that the film’s thematic focus becomes unclear.

And in an ending similar to the one in Emilia Perez, Lee’s sad and lonely death, as he reminisces about his time with Eugene, fails to evoke sorrow or agony. Instead, the viewer is left confused, wondering how the narrative arrived here and what it all means. I believe this chronicle, based on a book by the same name written by William S. Burroughs is supposed to be centered around the fiery and unfulfilled love Lee feels for Eugene (I have not read the book but from some of the reviews I read it appears that the drug plays almost no role in the book). However, the film takes a few leaps in another direction, one in which an unbreakable bond forms between the two, though one that is hidden from the viewer. All in all, I think the story the director had in mind didn’t come to fruition as imagined, which led to a confounding experience for the viewer.

Written on December 26, 2024