Directed by Mira Nair. Written by Sooni Taraporevala
America’s the great melting pot, but the spice mix hits a bit different in Mira Nair’s Mississippi Masala, the story of an Indian woman caught between cultures who falls in love with a Black man to the consternation of everyone.
Nair’s movie opens in Uganda in 1972 where Idi Amin, dictator and brutal despot, has seized power and declares all Indians, brought to Uganda by the British Empire to build railroads, are to leave and forfeit all their assets, regardless of how long they’ve been there. That includes Jay (Roshan Seth) who’s lived in Uganda his entire life. By way of the United Kingdom, Jay, his wife Kinnu (Sharmila Tagore), and their daughter Mina (Sarita Choudhury) find themselves in Greenwood, Mississippi, where the story picks back up in 1990.
They’ve embedded themselves in the Indian community, working and living alongside their expat countryfolks. Mina’s 24, unwed, and her mother has designs. Gossip is lively, and few fancy Mina’s chances to woo a desirable suitor, given her darker skin. One morning, Mina rear-ends the van belonging to Demetrius (Denzel Washington), a young Black man with his own carpet cleaning business. It’s love, sort of, at first fender bender.
What follows is a romance equal parts tender and steamy, borne by Washington’s charm and Choudhury’s understated intensity. Together they smoulder, but the script by Sooni Taraporevala offers a soft coming together that woos you before it gets you hot. Watching Mississippi Masala, you rue that fact Washington didn’t do more romantic roles – there’s still time, Denzel!
So Nair’s film delivers what it promises on the tin: A sweet, satisfying romance with chemistry to spare and plenty of good-looking cinematography to seduce the senses before any clothing comes off. It has more to offer, however, extending itself to also explore race relations and the cultural generation gap that immigrants experience.
Mississippi Masala isn’t Romeo & Juliet. The interracial battlelines its romance must cross are not black and white and the conflict is not aggressive and overt. The Indian community and the Black community of Mississippi, by the looks of things, get along fine in Nair’s movie, but as Mina and Demetrius circle each other, latent biases emerge. Mississippi Masala is novel in that regard, offering a vibrant look at both cultures and interrogating the subtle racism that exists between and within each.
The movie exhibits some genuine class- and social consciousness, and its exploration of culture loss and alienation is fascinating as well. Mina is a third culture kid. She wasn’t raised in the same country as her parents, nor where her roots are. She’s been raised in the U.S. and its culture, but at home, the customs and traditions of India are upheld by her mother, while the Uganda her father still mourns as his lost home is merely a chapter in her life.
Mina and her family live in a motel, an element that’s both class commentary and thematic signifier, as they’re rootless here. The real struggle of Mississippi Masala lies not in overcoming racism, but in the reconciliation of generations.
Mississippi Masala can justifiably be described as a hidden gem, tucked away in Washington’s body of work that’s defined by his strongman leading roles. Its script successfully describes a fulfilling relationship centered around more than just lust, and its cinematography turns on the heat, then keeps you warm. Spicy and satisfying.
Mikkel Frederiksen 