A high school student with big dreams living in San Bernardino, California, Doris Anahi Muñoz turned her bedroom walls into canvas. She painted her hands on the back of her door, saying, “These are the hands of Doris Anahi Muñoz, and they will touch the hearts of millions.”
As the main subject of the original Disney documentary “Mija,” Muñoz, an artist-turned-musician, aims to do just that with her story: connect with children of immigrant families who long to pursue careers in the entertainment industry. , but who may feel alone or guilty about their desires when their households face urgent daily struggles.
The film’s director, Isabel Castro, follows Muñoz as she advances the careers of Latin American musicians, including Cuco and Jacks Haupt, as she helps her undocumented Mexican family navigate the green card system.
“Many of us, we carry the weight of our families, and I needed a movie like this growing up,” Muñoz said in a recent video interview from Boyle Heights, California, where wooden bookshelves lined with cascading foliage and porcelain vases filled the room. “So I’m just happy that when I’m in this chair as a protagonist, other people can see themselves.”
Muñoz, the only one of her parents’ three children to be born in the United States, grew up with saxophone and violin in a family of evangelicals who hoped she would use her talents to become a worship leader. During the summer after her sophomore year of college, Ed Sheeran winked over and invited her onstage to sing along to his hit single “Lego House” at a radio event, rekindling her passion for music.
She wrote songs and performed live for a while, but realized that she wasn’t comfortable in the spotlight and would rather work behind the scenes. Her first major project on her own was managing Cuco, a bedroom pop artist who broke out by staying true to his Mexican-American heritage and making music for Latino kids who felt unseen.
The film follows Muñoz’s early work with Cuco as she orchestrates his sold-out concerts and helps him land a seven-figure record deal, a success that helped fund her parents’ application to become permanent residents of the US.
When the pandemic hits and (spoiler alert!) Muñoz has to deal with the pressure of breaking up with Cuco, she rediscovers her purpose in Jacks Haupt, a Dallas indie singer-songwriter who, like many young performers, struggles to to find a wider audience.
Haupt, 22, grew up listening to Joe Bataan’s “Mujer Mía” and other Latin soul classics in her Chicano household, also taking inspiration from Amy Winehouse, Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin. Haupt’s bilingual music has since morphed into a more electronic trip-hop sound, and she often sings about heartbreak and sanity.
Haupt calls music her diary and it has been a support system for her over the years. But at the beginning of her music career, she said she lacked the support of her family. “Working in the arts as a photographer, videographer, immigrant, POC parents are more like, ‘This isn’t making money,'” Haupt said in a video interview from Dallas.
Building a career in the arts can cost money and time — resources that are scarce for immigrant families who face challenges such as finding the path to citizenship and finding financial footing. The film documents Muñoz’s close bond with her family: expressing her gratitude over a Thanksgiving meal, going on trips to visit her brother, who has been deported to Tijuana, Mexico, and the ongoing battle for her parents’ green cards.
“For those who feel alone in their process, I want this film to hold them down,” Muñoz said. “I had big dreams about reuniting my family and getting together and hopefully one day telling their story as a kid.”
“Mija” director Castro’s credits include the short documentary “USA v Scott,” about an American geographer jailed for helping migrants in Arizona, and “Darlin,” a DailyExpertNews op-doc about a Honduran mother’s struggle to reunite with her son after they were divided by US border detention policy. Castro said she was drawn to Muñoz and Haupt’s stories as an indie music lover who recognized a lack of representation for Latin American artists in that world.
“It was only when I became really interested in the ways that Doris, Cuco and the whole community were really trying to find a place for themselves in this exact musical space where I had grown up listening,” said Castro.
The film shifts from Haupt’s dreamy performances on stage and recording sessions in Los Angeles to a heated phone conversation with her mother about what is traditionally considered profitable work. Castro said the conversation was reminiscent of conversations she’d had with her own mother, when she felt guilty for not living up to expectations.
“My ambition and my career are rooted in a sense of responsibility for the sacrifices my parents made for me,” she said.
“I hope that people, especially Latinx viewers and viewers of color, will leave the film with a sense of hope,” Castro added, “feeling the sense of security that pursuing creative careers is a worthwhile ambition, and that it can pay off with hard work and tenacity.”
In the time since “Mija” was filmed, Muñoz has closed her management company and started releasing her own music under her stage name, Doris Anahí. Last week, like Haupt, she performed at the film’s premiere in Central Park. (The film premiered in New York and Los Angeles theaters on August 5 and comes to Disney+ on September 16.)
“Our parents come from a generation of survival,” Muñoz said, “and we’re a happy generation that thinks about thriving instead of surviving.”