Film Review: MIJA: The Up Close and Personal Triumph of an Anchor Babe [Sundance 2022]

Mija Review

Mija (IMDb Year of Film) Film Review from the 45th Annual Sundance Film Festival, a movie directed by Isabel Castro, starring Doris Munoz and Jacks Haupt.

Mija is an unvarnished look at a slice of life of its hero, Doris Muñoz, a natural citizen among many undocumented immigrants, some of whom are family members. This documentary focuses on Doris’ family as well as her career.

Mija is a startling movie, the feature debut of director Isabel Castro, which reflects, among other themes, the frustrations of those separated by deportation, and arbitrary policies affecting first and second generation Latinx immigrants in general, and individuals born of non-citizens in particular, i.e., the oft-derogatory term, “anchor babies.” Doris Muñoz is just such a person.

This film reveals what seems on the surface to be an enviable position for Doris, she has two specific expectations that come with the onus of being a natural citizen of the United States. Access to supposed unlimited opportunities is the first expectation. In reality, this is a carrot, merely the first step in a long process. This is especially true for Doris, a college graduate–a degree being one of the first requisite opportunities for Americans of any stripe.

Doris’ love of music inspired her to be a manager for Latinx artists through her own company, Mija Management. As with any of the arts, this is more competitive of aspirations. Nonetheless, owing to a little luck as well as skill, Doris auspiciously launched her career by representing Omar Banos, an up-and-coming musician in his teens, using the professional name of “Cuco.” Also a child of Mexican immigrants, his music struck a cord among music lovers in general, and Doris basked in his popularity as well as his financial success.

Doris’ success at this point, however, rested on her single client, Cuco decided to part ways with Doris, for which the CoVID-19 pandemic was largely responsible, thus excluding live performances, the entertainment world’s life’s-blood. At this point, the tenor of the film sinks into the doldrums along with Doris’ general attitude toward her life. But she triumphs over tribulation with the opportunity to represent another musician making waves in Texas with the professional name of Jacks Haupt.

Like Doris, Jacks is the natural United States citizen in a mixed-status household. Castro brings front-and-center the frustration and loggerheads in mixed-status households in a harrowing scene of a telephone conversation between Jacks and her parents, who loudly condemn their daughter’s determination to make her mark in the musical world. As distressing as it is to hear Jacks defend her position, it is easy to see the other side of the argument: it’s a risk endeavor to find success in such a competitive and arbitrary industry as the arts. But when they meet in Los Angeles, Doris and Jacks share similar experiences that form undeniable rapport that could very well lead to success.

In the meantime, the second theme throughout the film involves the impact of separation within a mixed-status family. Doris has an older brother who had been deported while she was a college senior. To Doris, this is far more than obligation to visit him in Mexico every chance she gets, bringing with her ‘care packages’ and money as a hand-up to him and his children; he has not seen his parents for six years. But Doris keeps up her brother’s hopes, even while struggling with her own depression over her lagging career.

But as Doris doesn’t lack for talent as an enterprising entrepreneur, neither does she lack fortitude or a dogged hope for the future. This pays off in a huge way as her parents proudly hold up their green cards, allowing them to travel across the border and back without the risk of being deported themselves. The meeting is poignant beyond words, but not beyond tears as they embrace each other. Just as she had filming Jacks on the phone with her parents, Director Isabel Castro makes sure to document these final emotionally powerful scenes as these parents embrace their son for the first time in years. This is underscored as the family together sings with karaoke the traditional song, “Amor Eterno.” 

It is interesting to note that the Spanish word “mija” translates primarily as “my daughter,” which is apropos enough, but it may be more appropriate to take its secondary meaning, a general term of affection, because of its much wider implication. Castro may intend to extend this sentiment beyond even Latinx, but to all who are edified by this opus and sympathize with its content. This reviewer certainly has.

Rating: 9/10

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