Emilia Pérez has the Nominations That Megalopolis Deserves

I finally watched Emilia Pérez. Being a Peliplat enthusiast, I couldn't avoid the discourse surrounding the movie and I knew I had to watch it. It lived up to the hype. Bad songs, bad acting and a story that, well, we'll get to that. Still, going into Pérez, I didn't want it to be bad.

I had hope for Jacques Audiard. I remember watching Un prophète (2009) and thinking it was one of the most creative movies I'd ever seen, at the time. The next Audiard movie I watched was The Sisters Brothers (2018) and it was a disappointment. I had loved the novel by Vancouver-based writer Patrick deWitt and I thought Audiard was the man to pull off the adaptation. I was wrong. I don't care what the Venice Film Festival says, the movie was a total failure.

Then there is Pérez. Thirteen Oscar nominations. That's one less than the record of 14 noms held by Ben-Hur, Titanic and The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. To even put Pérez in the same breath as those movies is an abomination.

Did it only receive so many nominations because of Netflix's Oscar campaign? I'm not sure, since it received a standing ovation at Cannes, which was before it was sold to Netflix for distribution. Is it because the main character is transgender? Is the idea that this group was marginalized for so long that any representation is a win? Are we so obsessed with acceptance that we can't notice when a story is hollow and misguided? How could this big of a miss from an acclaimed director be so praised by Hollywood—winning multiple Golden Globes already—yet be so vilified by the very groups that it represents: the transgender community and the great people of Mexico?

There is another overly ambitious, aging director who released a movie this year. Francis Ford Coppola's Megalopolis made more noise in its lead-up to release than it did when it finally came out. It became an infamous flop, returning $14M on a budget of approximately $120M. It received zero Oscar nominations, but five Razzie noms, which is an award ceremony for the worst movies of the year. Yet, my question is, what makes Megalopolis a laughable failure and Emilia Pérez an artistic triumphant?

The most glaring similarity between these two movies is in their ambition. Like the themes reflected in Coppola's Youth Without Youth, both he and Audiard have ambitious dreams but feel the ever-increasing weight of their mortality. Coppola lost his wife in 2024. Audiard turned 72. In their sunset years, they both feel the need to push themselves to their creative limits.

Pérez was the first script that Audiard, a French native, wrote entirely on his own. Ironically enough, it's not even in his first language. It's a Spanish-language movie set in Mexico with a transgender protagonist. Despite the result, I must respect Audiard's ambition. Only a white man would have the ego to think he was the one to tell this story.

Coppola is equally ambitious. However, he decided to stay within his realm of understanding. As an Italian-American, it makes sense that Megalopolis focuses on the denigration of America told through an allegory, pulling excessive real-life inspiration from the Roman Empire. Just because it is closer to what Coppola is familiar with, doesn't mean he wasn't heavily reaching with this movie. Few movies try to do as much as Megalopolis tries to do. Except maybe Pérez.

Coppola worked on this movie for over 30 years but was still willing to come up with things spontaneously on the day with the actors. This method of extreme prep mixed with instantaneous creativity makes the movie feel new and archaic, stupid and genius, bad and good. I praise his willingness to try new things, his childlike desire to play. This playfulness is dead in Hollywood, which is supposed to be the land where it thrives. You only need to look at the shareholder-value-obsessed Netflix and it's creatively void Oscar bait to see that Hollywood has no room for spontaneous creativity. For them, everything is meticulously planned.

With its infinite resources, Netflix lobbied Pérez to its 13 Oscar nominations. Meanwhile, Coppola put up millions of his own money to fund Megalopolis. He wasn't beholden to any studio and the execs hated him for it. As such, the publicity surrounding the movie was primarily negative. It didn't have celebrities praising it like the spineless pawns some of them are. Megalopolis received little to no external help and it suffered because of it. Netflix wants to tell us what to praise but they can't even do that right.

Looking at the list of nominations for Pérez (best picture, director, actress, international feature, supporting actress, adapted screenplay, film editing, sound, cinematography, makeup and hairstyling, original score, original song x2), I can only think of an argument in favour of the cinematography. When I look at what Megalopolis is nominated for (worst picture, director, supporting actor, screenplay, screen combo), I wonder what it did wrong that Pérez did right. It was equally ambitious, tonally inconsistent, mixed with divine performances and absurd attempts. Why is one labelled the cream of the crop and the other is panned as an embarrassment?

Pérez is a musical but the songs are bad. Zoe Saldaña probably has the meatiest "supporting" actress role of all time. This feels more like her movie than that of the titular character. Karla Sofía Gascón was good, but she's pretty much sunk her own boat over the past month or so. Who is behind the slander campaign against her, I don't know, but it's working. Old tweets, bad apologies, worse CNN confessionals. It's all going south for the woman who hoped to be the first transgender woman to win best actress.

One of the main problems with Pérez is that it's toothless, despite its important themes. The Mexican drug trade is a massive issue for that country and for global safety. Transgender rights and the transgender experience are both important topics that deserve proper representation in cinema. I am a supporter of creative freedom, creative integrity and the artist's right to tell the story they want to tell. In that regard, I don't fault Audiard for his ambition or for even making Pérez. I do blame the powers that be in Hollywood for heaping praise on this movie, like it's the movie that the trans community has been waiting for when it is clearly not. The movie is a fraud.

What I do blame Audiard for is making the cardinal sin of giving us an unsympathetic main character. Emilia Pérez, the drug kingpin who transitions from man to woman and leaves her old life behind, is the worst. Being a kingpin implies that she was in charge of the drug trafficking, the assaults, the murders, the kidnappings, and the human trafficking that these cartels are synonymous with. For Emilia to transition and then decide that she is going to atone for her crimes by finding the bodies of the cartel's victims is not enough to forgive her abhorrent past. A person can change who they are, but I cannot accept that I must forget a person's horrendous past after their transition. The whole time, I did not sympathize with her. I resented her belief that she could correct her past by digging up the bodies of people she helped kill. How hypocritical can you be?

To me, Megalopolis is a crowning achievement for Coppola and for moviemaking in general. It might make you laugh in embarrassment, but that's what art is. It's a practice in humility. Coppola selling his own winery to make a total flop is peak humility. Still, I found it engaging, inventive, ambitious and worthy of my time. Yes, it's messy but so is Pérez. And why would I want art that is clean and beautiful? I want ugly. I want to see the marks. That's much more human than a sanitized, box-checking movie.

If the world made any sense, Pérez would be up for Razzies and Megalopolis would be up for Oscars. Shia LaBeouf and Aubrey Plaza would both be up for best supporting, Adam Driver would be up for best actor, Coppola would definitely be up for best director and for best original screenplay, and the movie would be nominated for best picture.

But, perhaps, Megalopolis doesn't need the Oscars. It will forever be remembered because of its all-time-great director and the story of its ambition. There will always be an audience, no matter how small, for highly ambitious, highly WTF movies. Whereas Pérez couldn't even keep its positive hype going until the award show, Megalopolis was made to be outside of time. It is designed to continue fascinating fans, especially as we move toward whatever is next for the American empire.

I'm disgusted that Pérez received the nominations it did. I'm disappointed that Megalopolis received no Oscar nominations. I think it's a reflection of the modern media conglomerates trying to tell us what movies we should cheer for and what movies we should avoid, not based on merit but based on which one will bring the suits the most honour. Hollywood bigwigs have nothing to gain from Megalopolis being nominated, because they never backed the movie or its awards campaign. Pérez is Netflix's chance to win that coveted best picture trophy, so they can put it on their mantle next to their billions and solidify their stranglehold on the streaming market. Unfortunately, they're not yet Apple, which really does have the power to buy a little golden statue.

Comparing these two movies is really an example of an artist versus a giant corporation. So, on March 2, when you're watching the Oscars, think of the artist. Think of not what you're being told to watch or told to love, but think of the movies that really had an impact on you. We can't change the world, but we can observe its movements. We can comment on our observations. We can watch Megalopolis 15 times and banish Emilia Pérez to the wasteland that is the Netflix search function. Maybe one day we will reach a time where creative expression is praised over celebrating those who write the biggest cheque. Maybe only in a utopia like New Rome in Megalopolis can such a world exist. But a man can dream, and I go to the cinema to dream. Like Coppola, I think a dreamscape is a fine place to show a utopia, not a toothless social commentary that makes a lot of noise today and then falls into silence for perpetuity. Give me Megalopolis. Give me eternity.