In Conversation with Acapulco’s Carolina Moreno

“Hi, is it okay if we just jump right in?”

It’s not exactly the smoothest start to an interview, but it’d been a long day, and Carolina Moreno, gorgeous and disarming, doesn’t seem to mind. She nods, warm and wide-eyed; the kind of person who, upon meeting, immediately makes you feel like you’re old friends. 

We’re speaking just ahead of Acapulco’s fourth season release. An Apple TV original, the heartwarming bilingual comedy about chasing dreams, navigating class, and finding joy at a luxury resort in 1980s Mexico is full of colour, and the sort of inspired writing that makes you laugh without ever losing its depth.

“I feel very grateful,” Carolina says when asked how she’s feeling about it all. “We’ve wrapped season four, and there’s just a lot of gratitude. These weeks before release, they feel like something’s closing, but also like a bunch of other doors might be opening.”

It’s always quite fascinating to catch actors at this point in their journey, not quite at the beginning, but still climbing. She’s clearly excited, but she carries this assurance, like she knows exactly what it’s taken her to get here, and still can’t wait for what’s to come.

“I actually just binged Acapulco again before this interview,” I shamelessly admit. “I love it. I mean, genuinely. It contains so much joy, without ever tipping into cheesy, and that’s really not always an easy balance to reach.”

Carolina lights up. “I’m just happy people are watching. That still surprises me sometimes.”

We talk about whether she remembers the first time someone recognised her from the show. She does. She’s coming through customs after a long-haul flight. Her hair’s a mess, her energy’s low, and this man keeps looking at her like something’s wrong.

“I thought I had something on my face,” she laughs. “But after I get through, he comes up and is like, ‘I’m so sorry to bother you, but my daughter is a huge fan. Can I take a video for her?’ I was in complete shock. But it was so sweet.”

It’s one of those moments that remains with her, not because it happens all the time (it doesn’t), but because it makes the whole thing, the dream she’s spent so long chasing, feel real.

She tells the story with animation, and if you talk to Carolina for more than ten minutes, it becomes clear just how important stories are to her. The telling of them, the hearing of them, and the passing of them on. When asked how she introduces herself when she meets people for the first time - actor first, or something else? - she pauses for a moment and laughs. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would say, I usually just want to know them. I think that’s why I chose this life; I love people. I’m always reading biographies, I’m obsessed with learning how someone became who they are.”

This starts to make complete sense once she starts talking about the performances that inspire her. She tells me about her love for Penélope Cruz in Volver, an Almodóvar classic. She watched it with her dad, growing up. She was way too young, but her dad didn’t care. He loves movies, full stop, and she became herself through his passion. 

“I remember asking him, ‘How do people get to do that?’” she says. “It felt impossible. I grew up in a small border town in Mexico. Acting? That wasn’t even a concept.”

But support is a beautiful thing and her dad always championed her dreams. Always. When she expressed a desire to study flamenco (with no classes available in her small town), he found her a teacher. His belief in her opened doors she might not have reached on her own.

“My dad and my grandma. Those are the two people who make me feel like it’s even possible. My grandma used to call me ‘María Félix’ after the actress. She’d say, ‘You could be like her.’”

Flamenco was her first taste of performance, and it became a doorway into learning character, emotion, and the drama that now serves as her morning star. “I wasn’t that great a dancer,” she laughs. “But I loved the emotion. I’d get teary just listening to the music.” It wasn’t the movement itself, it was the storytelling that touched her. That sensitivity has shaped the kinds of characters she’s drawn to.

“I want to feel something new when I act. To be emotionally challenged. And funnily enough, I’m not that emotional in real life. But when it comes to other people’s stories, I feel it. I cry at reunion videos. I’m a mess.”

That impulse, to channel emotion through other people’s lives, feels very familiar.

We talk more about Acapulco, especially the tone, sincere but never corny. It’s curious how she manages to keep Lorena feeling so grounded, especially when the character is often big and bold.

“One of my teachers said something that really helped,” she shares. “Even if you wouldn’t react that way, it doesn’t matter. She would. You have to believe it’s real for her.”

She also credits her co-star Fernando Carsa, who plays Memo. “The first time I met him, he hugged me like we’d known each other forever. I was terrified on that first day, like… more nervous than when I took my U.S. citizenship test. But Fernando made me feel safe.”

Their connection grows into one of those gorgeous actor partnerships that feels completely natural on screen. “He’s generous. And that’s rare, I think. He wants me to be my best, and I want the same for him.”

We ask if she feels protective over Lorena after playing her for so long.

“Oh, absolutely. Especially when people are mean about how she looks or sounds. I’ve been that person, the one who didn’t feel pretty, who felt misunderstood. And Lorena’s grown so much in the show. She deserves love. I see her and I think… I wish I had her growing up.”

There’s a moment in our conversation when I tell her that growing up, there’d be whole Saturdays spent at a hair braider’s house watching telenovelas. It was hours of drama, love triangles, accidental pregnancies and miraculous returns from the dead. It’s interesting how Acapulco reminds me of that, but with a fresh kind of joy.

She gets it immediately. “Yes! I grow up watching novelas, and working with someone like Eugenio Derbez [Acapulco’s Maximo], that’s surreal. But what’s rare about Acapulco is that it’s a Mexican story told with so much care. So much joy. That’s not always what people expect.”

The show started with a mostly English-speaking audience, but eventually grew into a Latin American hit too. “It felt like a risk. But people embraced it. And that means everything.”

We speak about how often Latinx characters are pushed to the side in mainstream TV. They’re typically the friend, the neighbour, the comic relief. “We’re not a genre. We’re people. We deserve stories that reflect that.”

We ask if she ever feels misunderstood or underestimated as a performer.

“Not now,” she says. “But growing up? Absolutely. I come from a very religious, very traditional town. Acting wasn’t seen as… good. Especially not for a woman. But I think that’s why I become an artist. To feel understood.”

We talk a little about beauty, and how her relationship to self-image has shifted as her profile has grown.

“In the beginning, it was hard. No one prepares you for how people talk about your appearance. But I’ve learned to protect myself. And honestly, I didn’t become an actor to be the most beautiful person in the world. I’m here to tell stories.”

Now she’s in a place where she doesn’t care what people think. “This is the body I was born into. And that should be enough.”

As we start to wrap up, I ask a few lighter questions. What’s the first thing she does after a shoot? “Makeup off. Shower. Go for a run. Then dinner and studying. Always in that order.”

And what’s the last performance that really made her feel something?

“There’s a new Spanish show called Rage on HBO Max. It’s about how women’s rage gets passed down generationally. It’s an anthology, and the acting is unreal. I’ve been telling every woman I know to watch it.”

I promise I will. She grins. “You have to.”

The conversation wraps and it’s one of those that you leave feeling light, but thoughtful. 

In Lorena, Carolina gives us a version of herself, full of joy, and flaws, and fire, that, perhaps, a younger Carolina might’ve held onto like a lifeline. 

Speaking to her, you can’t help but think about all the little girls (or grown women) who’ve ever been told they’re too sensitive, or too dramatic, they don’t fit in, or they’re too much.

Maybe they are, like Carolina, just storytellers in the making.

Acapulco Season 4 airs on Apple TV on the 23rd July.