Mississippi Masala (1992)

Some people’s first introduction to Mira Nair might be as New York mayor Zohran Mamdani’s mom. But with her insightful direction of 1991’s Mississippi Masala, Nair shows how much she deserves to be known as an artist. Delivering a nuanced portrait of a romance between a Black man and an Indian woman living in the South, Nair explores the complications each character faces, giving both equal weight.

The story opens in 1970s Kampala, a lush and Eden-like land where a child, Mina, lives with her parents. But following Idi Amin’s ascent to power, only Blacks are considered true Ugandans and Mina’s family, being Indian, are forced out of the country. The place they move to, Greenwood, Mississippi, is far less picturesque. Mina (Sarita Choudbury), now a young adult, works in her uncle’s hotel as a maid, while Mina’s mother Kinnu dispenses alcohol at a liquor store. Only father Jay remains obsessed with Uganda, fantasizing that one day, he’ll win his perpetual lawsuit to regain their lost land.

Meanwhile, Demetrius, (Denzel Washington) nicknamed D-money, has a thriving carpet cleaning business—he can even do deep shag rugs. But newly returned ex-girlfriend Alicia seems unimpressed, and to inspire jealousy Demetrius flirts with Mina at a dance club. Despite this inauspicious beginning, the pair fall in love, but their fledgling romance is stressed by multiple forces: family, racism, misunderstandings.

Nair compellingly shows that racism doesn’t recognize borders. “Cruelty has no country,” observes Jay. Kinnu is forced off the bus in Uganda by African soldiers who rifle through her possessions; they mock the Indian music on her record player as she shivers in the rain. In America, Mina, considered dark-skinned and working class, is badmouthed by Indian mothers as undesirable for their sons.

Those discriminated against practice their own form of intolerance in many ways. Demetrius’ little brother Dex proudly relates that he typed “Kill the crackers” on a computer. Demetrius tells Jay that Indians who come to the US feel white and therefore superior to Black people, pointing out that Indian skin is only a few shades lighter than Demetrus’ Black skin. It is inconceivable to Demetrius that Jay forbids his daughter to date a Black man from fear of her getting hurt rather than thinking a Black man isn’t good enough for Mina.

These forms of bias are still dwarfed by the institutional variety. The white bank manager repossesses Demetrius’ and his partner Tyrone’s van for being late once on loan payments, after they unexpectedly lose most of their clients. Sitting smugly behind a desk in a bank, he lectures the rug cleaners, who hustle all day from job to job performing physical labor, on the virtues of hard work.

Despite exploring race and class, the film doesn’t come across as didactic, continually examining several sides while inviting us to find humor. The romance feels tender yet down-to-earth, and Mina and her mother are given agency in their relationships. Nair’s portrait of a stagnant small town, full of rundown buildings and streets dotted with clusters of bored, unemployed people, create a convincing portrait of an insular place—one that both Mina and Demetrius are understandably eager to escape.