Of course. It must be very intuitive. Tell me about the relationship between Corina and Carlos, Cristo Fernández’s character, because much of Corina’s growth happens thanks to him. What were your conversations with him like when defining that dynamic?
I think Cristo was the perfect actor to play Carlos because he naturally has a very kind nature, and I believe that’s exactly what was needed for the role — someone Corina could trust. She has serious trust issues, so we needed someone who would make Corina feel safe. Obviously, there’s also the added element that Corina likes Carlos. So, there’s an internal conflict that makes her nervous, but at the same time, she feels very safe with him. I like that it wasn’t a love story per se.
Carlos is another element within the story that tells Corina’s journey of growth, right?
Exactly. It’s more of an emerging friendship, and that makes much more sense for a character like Corina.
And within the narrative, Carlos’s counterpart is Corina’s mother, to whom Corina shows her most confrontational side at a key point in the story. Why do you think it’s important to show this aspect of a mother-daughter relationship on the big screen?
Corina lives with a fierce sense of loyalty toward her mother and toward her agoraphobia. She’s not only trying to overcome her fears but also to break free from that unhealthy loyalty rooted in her home. In some way, transcending her fears also means a kind of betrayal, which is why it’s so difficult for her. But throughout the film, Corina begins to feel that she needs to live more — to become a new version of herself — and her mother starts to feel that too. It’s fascinating how we see her mother’s resistance when she says, “Lie to me, but don’t leave the house. Safety before freedom,” and that’s terrible. Fascist states are the ones that promote safety over freedom. So, one of the beautiful things about Corina’s journey is that she manages to cut that out and say, “I’m going to dare to do what scares me the most,” and on the other side of that act of courage, she finds a new life.
It’s also an act of honesty, because Corina goes from being a deceitful character to having to be honest with herself — and that honesty brings her many gifts.
Now that you mention honesty, how much of Corina’s agoraphobia is truly hers, and how much is actually her mother’s?
I think it’s more her mother’s, and Corina just adopted it.
So, that breaks the idea that we are what our families are, doesn’t it?
Exactly, and I think everyone can relate to that.
The concept of agoraphobia makes me think of the years of isolation we recently lived through — younger generations have stayed somewhat closed off and don’t seem as eager to explore the world as older generations. Do you think Corina could inspire them to go out into the world again?
I hope so. It’s very sad to hear that and to see people trapped in their virtual realities, constantly in front of screens. We’re missing out — and I include myself in this — on what real life truly is, on the richness of experiences we could be having, on the physical and sensory contact with our surroundings, which is so important, especially for mental health. The reason Urzula [Barba Hopner, the film’s director] wanted to set the movie in the year 2000 is that it would be much easier to be agoraphobic today than back then — because at that time, you didn’t have platforms delivering everything to your door or virtual friendships like we do now. It was important for the character to exist in a context that would challenge her, so she could face and overcome herself.
I hope we all get tired of screens soon. I’ve seen some things in the news, like how the new generation is leaning toward analog life again — dumbphones and all that — and I think it’s wonderful. I believe we need to know how to use technology, not live for it.

Speaking of Urzula, this is her directorial debut — what is her working style like?
I’m very eager to see everything Urzula will do in the future because I feel Corina was a success, but also just the beginning for her. As Corina’s boss tells her in the final scene, “I’m very curious to see what you’ll write next.” I feel the same way about Urzula — I’m curious to see what she’ll do with all the great ideas, potential, and determination that define her. She’s very meticulous and detail-oriented. She’s also very intelligent, and that allowed us to rehearse before we started shooting, which completely changed how we told the story and solidified the tone we wanted to achieve.
With Corina’s arrival in the U.S. through Disney+, it will reach completely new audiences. What would you like them to take away from the film?
I’d love for non-Hispanic American audiences to open up to a Mexican film in Spanish, because I think it’s a film that leaves you feeling really good — but it’s not just a light distraction. It’s a story that makes you feel and think, but also entertains you. And for Hispanic audiences in the U.S., it’s a way to reconnect with their roots, with Guadalajara, and with a story that ultimately feels very different from what’s most commonly sold as Mexican cinema and from the kinds of stories we’re used to seeing.
The fact that both the story and the filming took place in Guadalajara really stands out. What was your experience like shooting there?
It was like a breath of fresh air — both filming it and watching it. Whenever you travel to shoot in another place as an actor, it helps you immerse yourself in the fiction because you’re in a sort of bubble. You’re away from home and not coming back every day, so you feel deeply absorbed in what you’re living, and that makes everything more conducive to the work. On the other hand, it’s a different lifestyle — much calmer, and that’s really beautiful.
Corina’s lifestyle is highly routine, which must contrast with that of an actor. How have you experienced that? Have you ever found yourself slipping into routine despite your career?
When you start filming a movie or a series, you actually fall into a routine similar to that of a high-performance athlete. The same happens when you’re doing theater. Once you begin working, you follow a certain routine, and when you’re not working, it’s another kind of rhythm. Personally, I love returning to my routine after finishing a project. I love having my own schedule, working out, and grabbing my coffee — that gives me a sense of stability. What’s not routine at all is that shift between working and not working; that’s where things get much more volatile for actors. And, of course, the types of projects are always changing, but that’s what makes it so nice — you never get bored. You spend three or four months telling one story, then move on to another with a different group of people. It’s all about finding what aligns with you.


