Why Disney+ has delayed Mija‘s release date again* is baffling. Why Mija billboards and advertisements haven’t been plastered around LA as much as She Hulk Attorney at Law is equally as absurd. I can’t wrap my head around why this documentary – a film about two young Mexican American women following a dream – is seemingly being pushed aside by one of the largest corporations in the film industry. While frustrating, I have to believe that Mija will eventually become available to the general population and when it does, be prepared for an emotionally-charged portrait of daughters of illegal immigrants paving their own path in America.
Four-time Emmy-nominated, Mexican American filmmaker Isabel Castro makes her documentary feature debut with Mija, which first premiered at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival. Our protagonist is Doris Anahi Muñoz, a music-obsessed entrepreneur and the only daughter in a family of four. Her parents and brother immigrated from Mexico to San Bernardino before Doris was born and her U.S. citizenship means she’s the only one in her family with documentation. This pressure to provide for her family while simultaneously attempting to pursue her own passion as a music executive can be overwhelming at times, but Doris is a nurturer at heart and takes the responsibility in stride. Sure, she inherited her family’s fears, but she has also inherited their dreams.
Music became her sanctuary. Since the thought of ever returning to Mexico seemed impossible, Doris and her family would listen to songs that re-connected them to their Mexican roots. This sense of pride and commitment to uplifting her community lead her to Omar Banos aka Cuco, whom she spotted and managed throughout the majority of his rising success. When 2020 hit and the tours stopped booking, Cuco and Doris went their separate ways – a devastating blow that put her stability in jeopardy. Resilient as she is, it didn’t take Doris long before spotting her next artist: Jacks Haupt, a Pop-R&B artist from Dallas, TX.
Despite being essentially strangers at first, Jacks and Doris’ shared backstory – that of being a young, Mexican American women in America following a dream – creates a bond that ignites the other. Mija follows their relationship and individual journeys of what it means to “make it” and what success looks and feels like to them. Mija is ultimately a feel good film but not without an emotional curveball or two thrown in.
Isabel Castro weaves Mija’s dual storyline of immigration and entrepreneurship together so beautifully. It’s a specific story on the surface but one that will no doubt resonate universally, appealing to anyone who has ever felt like the odds have been against them. At the center of it all, Mija asks the rhetorical question: Who is allowed to dream? Doris, Jacks, and all immigrants deserve the opportunity to pursue their passion without guilt. Their perspective on the world, and their contribution to the arts, is vital to creative prosperity.
*Mija‘s original release date was slated for September 16th. It was then delayed to September 23rd. As of this review, it has been pushed again with no explanation and removed from the official September Disney+ release schedule.
