M

IRA Nair has large kohl-lined eyes that open wide, sometimes narrowing to show she does not have time for nonsense, and a wide grin ready to share humour. Nair is outstanding, not only for her directorial achievements. She wears a mustard gilded Afro-Asian jacket in the middle of the day, with fashionable goggles, for our interview in Joburg. She scolds the city for an unusual cold spell. “What is that? I had to wear socks last night,” she says in the accent of a global citizen.

Nair, born in India, is married to a Ugandan and studied in the US. Now she splits her time between New York and Uganda. She says Queen of Katwe is close to one of her homes; the story comes from her Ugandan neighbourhood.

“I am a ‘life-ist’, which is Kampala slang for one who embraces life. It comes from the way people live in Uganda, and that is one of the reasons I made this film. Despite the abject struggle, it is not a portrait of despair because that is not the quality of us as a people. That is what is remarkable. There is no room for self-pity.

“The other thing I wanted to show is that people are extremely direct, there are no falsities. It is like when I come back [to Kampala] from the US, my cook will say: ‘Welcome back! Mira, you are fat!’

“It is a compliment, you have rested, you have prospered. It is a relief. Nobody is bullshitting you. That is refreshing, when life is so full of falsities.”

Lupita Nyong’o says this is why it was a dream come true to work with Nair.

“Mira does not mince her words. She’s forthright. As an actor, that is an important quality for a director to have. This is an industry full of soft talk, so when she came to me and said, ‘We need to shift something here,’ it means raise the bar, you know you have to strive for greatness. Mira does not compromise.”

The Oscar winner worked for Nair’s East Africabased community film school, Maisha, and was an intern on Nair’s 2006 feature The Namesake. They are also family friends — her father and Nair’s husband are best friends — and it is evident from their banter that they are practically aunt and niece.

“I got pre-training when I worked for her. She has been on my bucket list as an actor and I was fortunate to have that opportunity to work with her, not just as an actor, but in East Africa which is home to us both,” says Nyong’o. Nair — whose Monsoon Wedding won a Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival in 2001 — is exciting, exacting and demanding. She turned down a Harry Potter movie to make more socially important films, such as the Oscar-nominated Salaam Bombay! and Mississippi Masala. She says that in Queen of Katwe she aimed, as always, for cinéma vérité, for authenticity. “It is why audiences trust you and what they expect of you. The accent had to be absolutely right. It is not Kenyan, it is certainly not Nigerian. There is a certain self-effacing sweetness, no force or assertiveness to it.” She also captures the slum in high colour. “The brightness of Katwe . . . I wasn’t looking for it but it was there. For instance, Brian, Phiona’s brother, sells salt with a dance, because it’s a way of getting a little attention. They are balancing their struggle with delight, because delight sells salt or corn. “There was a huge embrace even when the trailers came out. People didn’t say: ‘Who are these Ugandans?’ People enter my world, even if they are from Milwaukee. If something is true and you tamper with it, people don’t trust you. “The embrace has been total. This is what I love, because even though I have transported you to a different place, you eventually see yourself.” She cast Nyong’o for the role before the actress won her Oscar. “I cast from instinct and I knew Lupita had the fire of Harriet. It helped that she had become a bona fide movie star by the time we were ready to film. Being practical, you must consider who will take such a film into the mainstream. It is a beautiful moment that in Hollywood, we have in Lupita and David [Oyelowo] serious movie stars who are interested in these stories. Otherwise these movies won’t happen.” Nair did take a liberty in telling the story. “While most of this film is utterly, utterly real, I did write in a scene for Lupita so you could see her bloom.” In it, Harriet sells her mother’s dress to a merchant who is enamoured with her. It is a sexy nearromance behind curtains of fabric. “That was my own invention. I can’t have Lupita as Harriet in a permanent frown. I need to love the two hours, I want to replenish as much as I move you. I told Lupita that was the scene for her luminosity, sensuality, to show off the dressing of Uganda . . . We gave her an immense amount to do. And she did it.”