It is 1997. You are sitting in a dark theater, and suddenly, a towering, blue-skinned alien with tentacles growing out of her head starts singing Donizetti. Then, the beat drops.
The Diva Dance from The Fifth Element is one of those cinematic moments that just sticks to your ribs. Most people remember the blue makeup or the way Milla Jovovich’s Leeloo kicks everyone's teeth in during the aria. But for music nerds and sci-fi fans, the real mystery was always the voice. Was it real? Could a human actually hit those notes?
Honestly, the answer is "sorta."
The Woman Behind the Blue Latex
The "Fifth Element opera singer" isn't a CGI creation, at least not entirely. Her name is Inva Mula. She is an Albanian soprano who, at the time, was a rising star in the classical world. Director Luc Besson wanted someone who sounded otherworldly, but he didn't want a synthesized voice from the jump. He wanted the raw power of a human lungs-and-larynx combo.
Mula recorded the piece in two parts. First, there is the formal opera bit—"Il dolce suono" from Lucia di Lammermoor. That part is 100% Inva. It’s haunting. It’s tragic. It’s also incredibly difficult. But when the movie transitions into the "Diva Dance," things get weird. The composer, Éric Serra, purposefully wrote notes that he believed were physically impossible for a human to sing. He wanted to highlight the fact that Plavalaguna was an alien. He figured the human voice had limits, and he wanted to breeze right past them.
Serra has told this story many times: he expected Mula to laugh at the sheet music. Instead, she sang about 80% of it.
The parts she couldn't hit? Those were the massive, instantaneous jumps between notes. Human vocal cords need a fraction of a second to change tension to hit a new pitch. Mula could hit the high notes, and she could hit the low notes, but she couldn't teleport between them at the speed Serra’s computer-generated demo required. To fix this, Serra took her recorded samples and edited them together. He basically used the technology of the 90s to "stitch" her voice into a sequence that sounds superhuman.
✨ Don't miss: Neil Young Website Official: Why the Archives is the Best Thing in Music
So, when you hear those rapid-fire staccato pops, you’re hearing a real human voice, just arranged in a way that defies biology.
Maïwenn and the Visual Performance
While Inva Mula provided the pipes, she wasn't the one in the blue suit. That was Maïwenn Le Besco, a French actress who was actually in a relationship with Luc Besson at the time.
Imagine the physical toll. She had to spend hours in makeup. The costume was restrictive. The headpiece was heavy. And yet, she had to lip-sync to a track that wasn't even fully finished when they started planning. Maïwenn’s performance is what sells the scene. She moves with this strange, bird-like fluidity. It’s jerky but graceful. It’s not how a human singer would stand. If you watch a real soprano, they are often very grounded; they need their posture to support their breath. Maïwenn ignores all of that. She dances. She twitches. She looks like something that evolved on a planet with different gravity.
The Technical Magic of Éric Serra
The "Diva Dance" section is a masterclass in 90s electronic sampling. Serra was a long-time collaborator with Besson, having done the score for Léon: The Professional and The Big Blue. He wasn't trying to make a "pop" song. He was trying to create "alien pop."
He used:
- A heavy breakbeat rhythm.
- Samplers to chop Inva Mula’s vocals.
- Synthesizers that mirrored the vocal melody to give it a metallic "sheen."
The result was a track that felt both ancient and futuristic. It’s why people still cover it on YouTube and TikTok today. Every few years, a "coloratura soprano" (that’s the technical term for singers who specialize in these high, acrobatic notes) tries to prove they can do it live without the digital edits.
Can Anyone Actually Sing This Live?
For a long time, the consensus was "no."
But then the internet happened. You've probably seen videos of singers like Jane Zhang or Laura Meuzelaar tackling the piece. It’s wild. Modern singers have used the Diva Dance as a sort of "final boss" challenge.
While some can now hit the notes and even manage the speed, they often have to use "whistle register"—the highest register of the human voice, famously used by Mariah Carey. Even then, the "sampled" quality of the original movie version is almost impossible to replicate perfectly because the original was a digital construct. When Mula recorded it, she was amazed at the final product. She supposedly didn't think it would sound so... seamless.
Why the Diva Still Matters in 2026
We live in an era of AI-generated everything. We have vocal synthesis that can mimic any singer perfectly. So why does a 30-year-old blue alien still trend?
It’s the soul.
Even with the digital editing, you can hear the strain and the vibrato of a real woman in Mula's performance. There is a texture to her voice that a pure synthesizer can't touch. It feels "wet" and "breathbound."
Also, the song serves a narrative purpose. It’s not just a music video stuck in the middle of a movie. The song is the heartbeat of the film's climax. The editing of the film cuts between the Diva’s performance and Leeloo fighting the Mangalores in the hallway. The rhythm of the punches matches the rhythm of the staccato notes. It’s a perfect marriage of sound and vision.
Common Misconceptions About the Scene
People get a lot of stuff wrong about this scene. You'll hear fans swear that it was a man singing in falsetto. It wasn't. Others think it was 100% a computer. Wrong again.
- The "Impossible" Note: The highest note in the piece isn't actually the hardest part. It's the "arpeggio" jumps—the leaping from a low note to a high note instantly.
- The Language: The first half is in Italian. The second half is "alien," which is to say, it's just gibberish syllables chosen for how they sound when sung.
- The Makeup: It took roughly six hours to get Maïwenn into the Plavalaguna suit.
How to Appreciate the Diva Dance Like a Pro
If you want to really "get" why this piece is a technical marvel, stop listening to it through laptop speakers.
- Listen for the "Glitch": Around the middle of the dance, there are moments where the voice cuts off abruptly. That’s Serra’s deliberate editing. It’s meant to sound like a digital instrument.
- Watch the Breathing: Notice that the character on screen rarely takes a breath that matches the audio. It adds to the "uncanny valley" feel.
- Compare to the Source: Go listen to a standard recording of "Il dolce suono." You'll realize how much Serra sped up the tempo and changed the vibe to transition into the dance.
The Fifth Element opera singer remains a benchmark because she represents the moment humans and machines started making art together in a way that didn't feel cold. It felt explosive.
Actionable Insights for Music and Sci-Fi Fans
- Vocal Students: If you're trying to learn this, don't start with the Diva Dance. Start with "Lucia di Lammermoor." If you can't sing the traditional opera part with proper support, you'll wreck your voice trying to do the "alien" pops.
- Tech Enthusiasts: Look into "sampling" history. The Diva Dance is a precursor to how modern pop music uses vocal chops to create "leads" out of human voices.
- Cinematophiles: Watch the scene again, but mute it. Notice how Maïwenn’s movements are choreographed to a rhythm. Then watch it with sound only. The "sync" is a psychological trick played by the editors.
The legacy of Plavalaguna isn't just a meme or a cool costume. It's a reminder that even in a galaxy far away, or a future filled with flying cars, we still find the human voice to be the most powerful tool in the shed. Even when we have to give it a little digital help to reach the stars.