Sujata Day first stole our hearts in Issa Rae’s “The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl.” Now, she continues to enchant us in her role on HBO’s comedy series “Insecure.” Brown Girl Magazine recently spoke to Day about her background, career path and goals for the future. It was a conversation that illuminated the many talents of the actress and highlighted the importance of resiliency in the pursuit of dreams.
Tell us about your background and how you got into modeling, acting, and writing.
“I’m from a small, suburban town in Western Pennsylvania called Greensburg,” Day said. “I was a shy tomboy growing up, living in my fantasy world of Frances Hodgson Burnett, ‘The Baby-Sitters Club,’ and ‘Sweet Valley High’ books. My love for reading naturally led to my passion for writing. My family spent many summer vacations in Kolkata, India, and I was constantly inspired by the stories told by my Indian relatives. After one trip to the motherland, I wrote a short story titled ‘Forbidden Fate’ that won an MTV/People Magazine contest and got published in an anthology. In college, I took a playwriting class and a screenwriting class. The scripts I wrote in those classes were terrible! Like really, really bad. But I just kept writing and rewriting and haven’t stopped since.
My grade school teachers used to send me home with notes saying that I was silent and needed to speak up more. In middle school, I sat myself down and decided to make a conscious change to participate more in class and activities. I’m pretty proud of middle school me for that pep talk. I tried out for everything, and I mean, EVERYTHING. Cheerleading, tennis, swim, track—I even tried out for the rifle team, even though I had never held a gun in my life. I finally made the basketball team in eighth grade and actually scored a basket during one game when the coach put me in after we were up by fifty points, or something ridiculous like that. I realized pretty early on I was no Stephen Curry. During freshman year, I auditioned for my high school’s musical ‘Guys and Dolls.’ I got a small part as a ‘Li’l Miss’ and had one line during a gigantic musical number that got a huge laugh every night. I remember thinking, ‘I want to make people laugh like this for the rest of my life.'”
How do you choose the roles that you pursue? What is your philosophy behind acting and choosing roles?
“As actors, we don’t really get the chance to ‘choose’ roles as much as we are ‘chosen’ to audition for certain roles,” Day said. “During my first couple of years in Los Angeles, the roles I was auditioning for required me to put on an ‘Apu’ accent, wear a hijab, or play a terrorist’s wife. No joke. CeCe on ‘Awkward Black Girl’ was one of the first major roles I played that was a whole person with flaws and quirks, independent of the color of my skin. After ‘Awkward Black Girl,’ auditions started to slowly change for me. Although there is still a smattering of stereotypical brown girl roles out there, I’m now going in for a bigger range of parts that have nothing to do with my ethnicity. As a producer/writer, I also create parts for myself that let me play whatever role I want. I refuse to be limited because of my ethnicity, but I also appreciate that my background is a huge part of who I am. I hope to inspire other Indian girls like myself to get into the entertainment business. Strength in numbers!”
Do you personally identify with any of the characters you play? Why or why not?
“Playing CeCe on ‘Awkward Black Girl’ holds a special place in my heart. CeCe was basically an exaggerated version of myself and I had a blast playing her,” Day said. “Every time I got a new ‘ABG’ script, I felt like Issa and Tracy (Oliver) had been spying on me because they were taking words right out of my own mouth and putting them into CeCe’s. I appreciated the fact that the role of CeCe was a normal girl who just happened to be Indian. It’s also great to play characters not like myself at all. In ‘Hello Again,’ I played a young woman who dies from cancer. I focused on who the character was before she got diagnosed and allowed that to inform the rest of her story. In every role, there’s a way to find a little bit of yourself in it. You start at that place and then develop the character more fully from there.”
Can you tell us about your roles in “Awkward Black Girl” and “Insecure?” How are they similar or different?
“My character on ‘Insecure,’ Sarah, is the polar opposite of CeCe. Sarah is the mean girl at the We Got Y’all office. My made-up backstory for Sarah is that she’s a trust fund baby who grew up in Orange County amongst mostly upperclass white families,” Day said. “Sarah can actually afford to work for a non-profit while living in a swanky condo, ordering takeout every day, and making it to her pilates class on time,” Day said. “When we were shooting, it was super hard to be mean to Issa! It felt really strange, but also really fun to switch from playing her bestie on one show to playing the villain in another. An ‘ABG’ fan on Twitter mentioned that Sarah was channeling Amir and I had never thought about that before. But it’s true! Sarah definitely uses her ‘ethnically ambiguous’ looks to play on every team. In a future season of ‘Insecure,’ I could totally see Sarah teaching an inappropriate dance class to the kids because I’ve danced in almost every major role I’ve ever played, so why stop now?”
Who/what inspires you?
“I’m continuously inspired by women in the industry who help other women succeed. Shonda Rhimes, Amy Poehler, Tina Fey: they are my sheroes,” Day said. “Ava Duvernay hiring all women directors for the first season of ‘Queen Sugar’ was groundbreaking. Melissa Rosenberg is doing the same for ‘Jessica Jones.’ To be honest, I’m incredibly lucky to say that my biggest inspiration is my bestie bae, Issa Rae. I witnessed firsthand how ‘Awkward Black Girl’ grew from episode one to Pharrell funding ‘ABG’ season two, all the way to HBO’s ‘Insecure.’ It’s been an emotional ride. Personally, Issa motivated me to write my own scripts and put them out there. What’s most encouraging about Issa’s journey is that she’s not an overnight sensation. ‘Awkward Black Girl’ was her THIRD web series, y’all! Issa worked hard AF for her success and continues to work hard, not only for herself, but for others too. She is very supportive of inclusive content and actively seeks out diverse talent in front of and behind the camera.”
What are the greatest obstacles you’ve faced on your journey so far, if any? How have you overcome them, if at all?
“This town’s full of obstacles! Actors face rejection every single day. I think the saying goes, ‘You book one out of every SEVENTY auditions you go out on.’ How fun does that sound? We are hella resilient,” Day said. “It’s cheesy, but I don’t let obstacles get me down. If I don’t book an acting job, I write a kickass role for myself and film it. If a producer passes on my script, I reach out to two other producers that may be a better fit for it anyway. If my film doesn’t get into one festival, I’ll do my best to get it into another festival. I’m a do-er. If the front and back door are locked and the windows are all latched, I’ll climb down the chimney like Santa Claus.”
What changes, if any, would you like to see one day in the film and television industry?
“The world depicted onscreen is a far cry from what we see in the real world. How do we change this?” Day said. “It all starts with a script. We need more women of color screenwriters. Then, top agents and managers must represent these women of color so they get the equal opportunity to interview for television staff writing positions and be considered for legitimate movies. It has been proven time and again that if a production crew is diverse behind the camera, it shows in front of the camera. Shout out to Effie Brown for bucking the status quo on ‘Project Greenlight’ and calling attention to this critical issue. Change starts at the top of the Hollywood food chain. Female executives of color must be promoted at studios and networks. Then, we’ll see more diverse female show-runners, directors, writers, cinematographers, editors, and further on down the line. The success of ‘Awkward Black Girl’ was the start of a Hollywood Renaissance that opened the doors for so many other people of color in the industry. I am honored to play a small part in a revolution that will forever change the face of Hollywood. It’s a very exciting time to be a woman of color in this town. Write your story. I want to see it!”
What’s next for Sujata Day?
“I’m still riding on a high from getting into the inaugural Sundance YouTube New Voices Lab!” she said. “My project, ‘Soda Shop’, is about an overachieving female stoner soda shop employee who has to save her store from violent robbers, menacing soda conglomerates and vengeful health inspectors that threaten her rise up the soda world’s corporate ladder. I also have a couple of other scripts and treatments that are in various stages of development. I’m planning to make more music videos with my indie band, Naked Hipster Project. I recently directed my first narrative short film that I also wrote titled ‘Cowboy and Indian.’ Directing is definitely something I want to pursue more of in the future. What can I say? I love being the boss!”
And you should certainly keep on being an inspiring boss in this industry, Sujata! Brown Girl will be cheering you on during every step of your journey, booming with laughter just like the audience of your very first high school play.
Elizabeth Jaikaran is a freelance writer based in New York. She graduated from The City College of New York with her B.A. in 2012, and from New York University School of Law in 2016. She is interested in theories of gender politics and enjoys exploring the intersection of international law and social consciousness. When she’s not writing, she enjoys celebrating small joys with her friends and binge watching juicy serial dramas with her husband. Her first book, “Trauma,” will be published by Shanti Arts in 2017.
“Naatu Naatu” is one of the most memorable sequences from S.S. Rajamouli’s epic action-drama “RRR,” and has assisted the Telugu-language blockbuster in becoming one of the highest-grossing films at the worldwide box office. With music by M.M. Keeravani and lyrics by Chandrabose, “Naatu Naatu” is a celebration of regional music, dance, national identity, and male friendship.
But long before the song began collecting its accolades, its infectious tune and fast-step dance, performed vigorously by N.T. Rama Rao Jr. and Ram Charan, became a viral sensation outside of the film. It’s now the first song in a movie from India to be nominated for an Oscar and also to have won a Golden Globe.
When asked about the song’s ripple effect across the world, Keervani remarked,
For us — the musicians and artists — social media is very powerful, because of the internet and reachability. Nowadays, globally, anything that is different by nature, anything that is innovative, a little innovative, will catch instant attention.
It all started with a TikTok dance challenge where thousands of fans mimicked the dizzying hook step, choreographed by Prem Rakshith, garnering hundreds of millions of views, and making the song a bonafide global phenomenon. Today, the official YouTube video has well over 123 million views.
While the science behind why certain songs have a higher virality is widely debated, Keeravani attributes a large part to the song’s instant connection with the masses to its unusual 6/8 time signature, taken from carnatic music — which he believes is “inherently encoded in the human body.”
For non musicians, he vocally percusses the rhythm, “thik-i-tha tha-ka-tha, thik-i-tha tha-ka-tha, thik-i-tha tha-ka-tha, thik-i-tha tha-ka-tha.”
[This beat] will give you instant energy. Like suppose, you’re going low on sugar. So there are things like instant energy boosters; like you consume some aerated drink or a cup of coffee with sugar. And instantly your energy is boosted. So six, eight will give you an instant feeling to get up, create some steps and dance. There is a swing in the beat. So you will react to that beat — involuntarily you will react.
Before Keeravani wrote the music for “Naatu Naatu,” Chandrabose was given the challenging task to pen the lyrics to this rhythm. Continuing a long-standing collaboration that began 29 years ago, Chandrabose has co-written over 400 songs with Keeravani, including this iconic title track — his only co-write on “RRR.”
Regionality played a significant role in the composition.
Ram comes from Andhra and Bheem comes from Telangana. Both dialects are different; the slang is different. So, there is a challenge to write both slangs in one song. Everybody should understand those words. That is the challenge.
Chandrabose explained how he needed to appropriately incorporate the various dialects from the regions the primary characters were from, and reflect colloquialisms from 100 years ago, when the film’s story takes place, that is also recognizable to present-day listeners.
In [the lyric] ‘Yerrajonna rottelona mirapathokku kalipinattu’ (which translates roughly to “like eating a jowar roti with a chili” in English), ‘thokku’ means pickly, like mango pickle. In Andhra, it is known as ‘pachadi’ and in Telangana, it is known as ‘thokku.’ So, everyone can relate and connect [to] that word. And since ‘thokku’ belongs to Telangana, that line is sung by Bheem.
The original Telugu version of “Naatu Naatu” was also dubbed and released across a variety regional Indian languages, including, “Naacho Naacho” in Hindi, “Naattu Koothu” in Tamil, “Halli Naatu” in Kannada, and “Karinthol” in Malayalam, and has collectively been streamed over 92 million times on Spotify.
Chandrabose remarks that he envisioned the lyrics to 90 percent of the song in half a day, but it took about 19 more months to finalize the song in its entirety. This was in great part due to the time spent on researching the dialects and finalizing each word to the overall ethos of the song. Rajamouli had given strict direction that the song should authentically be about one’s nature, their culture and countryside, and be universally respectful.
When asked about how they scaled this process across the other five language releases, Keeravani recalled that they had to prioritize lip sync.
Since it’s a dance number, there is a combination of close shots and long shots. So the long shots are spared, but in the close shots, they need to be as close to the Telugu lyric, I mean, lip wise.
He added that the writing team had to make some concessions,
There will be a certain amount of compromise in the meaning of the lyric. But that is inevitable. As long as the song is conveying its main essence, it has no problem.
Culturally, India has a rich history of celebrating songwriters, composers, and music directors in cinema. However, this recognition does not always translate to credit and compensation. For example, “Naatu Naatu” was extraordinarily successful on TikTok, but TikTok isn’t available in India, creating complex monetization adversities. It’s especially important to understand that India’s non-bollywood and independent music market has a nascent publishing infrastructure and is traditionally known to have a work-for-hire payment model where song contributors are not offered royalties.
Speaking optimistically to changing times, Chandrabose shared,
I’m getting royalty from past 12 years (from performing rights societies IPRS in India and PRS in the U.K.).
He explained that, especially with viral songs, some songwriters and composers have only limited careers in the “limelight,” but “after 10 to 15 years, they cannot get more work and they cannot get money.” He speaks to songwriting royalties as a key to retirement for the next generation of song makers.
So, at that time they will receive these IPRS royalties as their pension to meet their needs. They will get these amounts in their old age that will help them a lot.
Upon concluding our chat with Chandrabose and Keeravani, we marveled at the amount of progress that has happened for independent and non-hindi language music communities around the world. The virality of “Naatu Naatu” is a testament to the musical prowess out of South Asia, but also challenges the Western notion that Indian music is narrowly defined by belonging in the catchall ‘world music’ category, or the sounds of the sitar and tabla, or a lightbulb-twisting Bhangra club-hit wonder, or, if nothing else, then Bollywood — all in large part exclusively North Indian. Unfortunately, this distinctly important nuance still plagues Western media and major music institutions.
Recently during a Songwriters Hall of Fame conversation with Oscar-nominated songwriters, Paul Williams incorrectly introduced “Naatu Naatu,” as “the first Hindi-language song ever nominated for an Oscar,” which is spliced with not one, but two errors — not only misidentifying the language but ignoring A.R. Rahman’s “Jai Ho!,” a Hindi song which was nominated and won in 2009 for the same category. As South Asian artists around the world begin to traverse into global markets, we hope to see more Western entities taking the time to research, hire South Asian contributors, and execute due diligence to minimize inaccuracies and cultural erasure.
Looking ahead to the 95th Oscars on March 12, 2023, we can rejoice that “Naatu Naatu” is confirmed to be performed live by the original singers Rahul Sipligunj and Kaala Bhairava at Academy Awards ceremony. The Best Original Song nomination is up against “Applause” from “Tell It Like a Woman;” “Hold My Hand” from “Top Gun: Maverick:” “Lift Me Up” from “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever;” and “This Is A Life” from “Everything Everywhere All at Once.”
“RRR” is streaming on Netflix and Zee5. On March 3 it will be re-released in over 200 US theaters as part of ‘The RRR Fan CelebRRRation’. Check your local cinema guides for one-off theatrical screenings.
Rhea has been helping music creators cross-culturally develop their narratives for over a decade, and is especially passionate about advancing … Read more ›
Over the past few weeks we’ve all seen Mindy Kaling shoulder the blame for misrepresenting the South Asian diaspora in her work. I want to expose us to the flip side. She’s not “Indian enough” for some in our communities and “not American enough” for mainstream television and media. But I don’t know a single South Asian living abroad who doesn’t feel this dissonance. We’re a generation born to parents who strived to stay connected to their homeland but knew they had to assimilate to survive. Many of us got lost in the mix. I definitely did. And from the looks of it, Kaling did too.
I feel like I’ve oscillated between these two extremes all my life. I’ve had moments of code-switching — performing as a white version of myself, melting into the groups around me. And moments of being a “coconut” (or an “oreo” depending on where you come from) — suddenly donning an accent as if Hindi was my first language. It wasn’t conscious. It also wasn’t fully unconscious.
It wasn’t until I watched Netflix’s“Never Have I Ever” as a 35-year-old mother of two that I realized what teenage Ambika was up against. Still wearing tank tops in secret, while girls my age had moved on to the midriff-baring trend of the early 2000s. Not thinking it was okay to explore my sexuality. Not seeing that sometimes I knew what was better for me than my parents did. Not understanding that it was okay to expand my romantic interests beyond the few Indian boys I knew. And then I rewatched “The Mindy Project” while on maternity leave with my second kid. And I ate it up.
I rewound dialogue as Dr. Lahiri got engaged, left a man who lost his drive, fell in love with the unexpectedly handsome curmudgeon, got pregnant, learned to mother, and found a new version of herself. She addressed her pregnant body insecurities on-screen (in “What to Expect When You’re Expanding — brilliant!). She grappled with her ambitions in the face of motherhood. She owned who she was when most of us were taught not to. She dated outside of her race. Her audacity and levity gave me so much oomph at a time when I needed it the most.
Art comes from lived experience. And when individuals reflect their life back to the masses through art, it’s a tenuous balance. Comedians in particular have to toe a fine line between hyperbole and reality, having the paradoxical job of speaking the truth (the dark truth, often), and simultaneously making people laugh.
Even though I didn’t speak Spanish — my parents don’t speak Spanish — early in my career when I would portray my parents in a bit, they would have an accent. They would speak in broken English. Any time I would talk about my mom, it was like, ‘ay, mija.’ My mom doesn’t call me ‘mija.’ My mom will leave me a voice message and be like, ‘hey, girl!’ She talks like me. You know what I mean?
This is the inherent paradox that exists in Velma as well. Kaling, as she often does, takes her own experiences as a young Indian girl growing up against the backdrop of white America, and amplifies them. And now, Kaling is a grown, Indian woman whose career is evolving against the backdrop of an America, too.
Critics across different racial groups frequently talk about “the representation trap.” Even if a minority group is represented in a piece of art, literature, film, or television, the manifestation of that group is still filtered through the white gaze. In Ismail Muhammed’s New York Times piece “Can Black Literature Escape the Representation Trap,” he says:
Our current problem isn’t an insufficient amount of Black representation in literature but a surfeit of it. And in many cases that means simply another marketing opportunity, a way to sell familiar images of Blackness to as broad an audience as possible.
The debate about whether minority artists properly represent their cohort is marred with capitalism and white supremacy. When so many industries are gate-kept by the typical, euro-centric, generationally rich man, is there really any way to be wholly true to our experience?
Let’s not forget that many of us (or maybe all of us?) came up in a society that devalues women, and horrifically devalues people of color. Let’s not forget that the majority of executives across every field still don’t look like us (if by chance you’ve forgotten, read this piece byRuchika Tulshyan). Let’s not forget that when people are introduced to something foreign and unknown to them, their default is to reject it (again, if you’ve forgotten, read about “the mere exposure effect” and racism).
I’m unsure how Kaling has inherited the immense responsibility of representing all of the South Asian American diaspora? And is then being criticized for her representation of it. Third-generation South Asians are very different from second-generation, who are very different from first-generation. Our identities and how we fit into American culture, mainstream media, and business, are still forming as we speak. We are not a monolith.
And plenty of men have done exactly what Kaling is being criticized for, without anywhere near the same level of criticism. All men I (hopefully, we) love.
Riz Ahmed has taken on roles in which his race isn’t the central focus. Hasan Minaj doesn’t get criticized when he uses stereotypical accents to represent South Asians or for using politics as a launch pad for his content. We don’t hate on Kumail Nanjiani when he suddenly gets a six-pack, even though he also once played a nerd. I loved when Aziz Ansari went to Italy to make pasta and didn’t make it Indian.
Why are we tearing down one of the only women in America who is working to showcase South Asian culture and people? Because she uses humor and caricature? Because she’s not putting herself in the mindset of the type of Indian person who has learned to thrive at the intersection of their upbringing and their environment? Newsflash: that person doesn’t exist!
It’s not on Kaling to represent every dimension of this diaspora. She’s done her job.
I’m a proud, second-generation, Indian American woman, married to an Indian American man, with two Indian American children. I was nerdy just like Kaling. I had arm hair just like Devi. I pined after white boys in my teen years just like Bela from the HBO Max’s “Sex Lives of College Girls,” too. And Kaling is an absolute inspiration to me.
I see a South Asian woman who chose to have children on her own. Whose career, post-children, skyrocketed. Who committed herself and her craft to tackle the most deep-rooted stigmas of South Asian culture — mental health, sex, and interracial relationships — while still honoring the way it manifested in her life.
It’s now our job to get out into the world and dimensionalize our cohort. Show the world what us supposed “ABCDs” have grown up and done; who we’ve become and what we’ve accomplished.
It’s what I’m trying to do. It’s what I’m trying to fight for when I’m told things like “maybe tone down the diversity angle in your writing, we don’t want publishers to think they’re just buying a diversity book.”
We still exist in a house of cards. Why are we kicking the building blocks of our own home?
I’ll leave you with this quote from Kaling herself:
People get scared when you try to do something, especially when it looks like you’re succeeding. People do not get scared when you’re failing. It calms them. But when you’re winning, it makes them feel like they’re losing or, worse yet, that maybe they should’ve tried to do something too, but now it’s too late. And since they didn’t, they want to stop you. You can’t let them.
I hope this woman never gets discouraged. We need her in more ways than one.
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Indian-American commercial real estate and land consultant Anita Verma-Lallian launched Camelback Productions at an event held in Paradise Valley, Arizona, Jan. 7. Billed as the state’s first women-and South Asian-owned film production and entertainment company, it will focus on South Asian representation and storytelling, according to a press statement issued by Verma-Lallian. The announcement follows “Arizona Governor Doug Ducey’s $125 million film tax credit for film and TV production that was introduced in July 2022, “ the statement added.
The Jan. 7 private launch party and meet and greet introduced investors and supporters to what’s ahead for Camelback Productions.
Noting the “major push to see minority groups represented in the media over the past few years,” Verma-Lallian said she wants to see more South Asians represented. “I want my children to see themselves when they watch TV. I want my daughter’s dream to become an actress to become a reality. Skin color shouldn’t be a barrier to that.”
The event opened with remarks from Phoenix Mayor Kate Gallego, who has served as the city’s 62nd mayor since 2019. She welcomes the company to “the greater Phoenix community.” She expressed confidence that “the team will attract some of the country’s top talent to the Valley.”
Guests at the event included actor and comedian Lilly Singh, actor Nik Dodani, Aparna of Netflix’s “Indian Matchmaking,” Bali Chainani and Anisha Ramakrishna of Bravo’s “Family Karma” fame, and Paramount+ executive P. Sean Gupta, to name a few.
The company is Verma-Lallian’s first venture into the film industry. She is known for providing full concierge services for land seekers and developers of all types of sites and assists investors in discovering viable properties in the Phoenix area through her company, Arizona Land Consulting, the statement added.
Named in honor of the iconic Camelback Mountain in the Valley, Verma-Lallian says she wants her production company to have the same indestructible foundation. Camelback Productions plans to begin its first project later this summer.
Elizabeth Jaikaran is a freelance writer based in New York. She graduated from The City College of New York with her B.A. in 2012, and from New York University School of Law in 2016. She is interested in theories of gender politics and enjoys exploring the intersection of international law and social consciousness. When she’s not writing, she enjoys celebrating small joys with her friends and binge watching juicy serial dramas with her husband. Her first book, “Trauma,” will be published by Shanti Arts in 2017.
