New Wave In Conversation: Julee Cerda on Identity, Reinvention and Solo Mio

In early February, just before Valentine’s Day, Solo Mio entered cinemas. A romantic comedy set against the backdrop of Italy, the film stars Kevin James as Matt Taylor, a groom abandoned at the altar who decides, reluctantly at first, to stay for his honeymoon anyway.

Photographer: Jemima Shoots. Hair: Paul Donovan. Makeup: Jessica Kell 

Part of its ensemble is Julee Cerda, who plays Donna, one half of a married couple Matt meets on his reluctant journey through Rome. In conversation with New Wave, Cerda is candid, and disarmingly thoughtful.

We begin by exploring the film. Cerda speaks with such admiration about James. Whilst he’s known primarily for broad, physical comedy, he takes on, what Julee describes as, the “straight-man” role here, allowing others to orbit him.

“He’s inherently funny, but what was so rewarding was watching him tap into something more ordinary.”

Photographer: Jemima Shoots. Hair: Paul Donovan. Makeup: Jessica Kell 

On set, she recalls an atmosphere of emotional generosity and collaboration emanating through the crew and cast alike.

Solo Mio steps away from the hyper-polished archetype that dominates this genre and it’s distinctly refreshing to see a romantic comedy led by actors who look and feel like adults.

Its characters are older, more experienced, [slightly] neurotic. This allows the film even deeper resonance. As Cerda notes, in the real world, many are marrying later, entering long term commitment with more baggage and, simultaneously, more self-knowledge. Solo Mio beautifully reflects this reality without any of the cynicism.

Photographer: Jemima Shoots. Hair: Paul Donovan. Makeup: Jessica Kell 

Cerda’s own path to acting was far from linear. The daughter of Korean and Dominican parents, she grew up between cultures. Her father served in the U.S. Army and met her mother while stationed in Korea. They eventually raised her in the United States, navigating cultural difference within their own household. English was the common language at home, Spanish engulfed her wider family space, and visually she resembles her mother more than her father.

“I’ve never really felt like I fit neatly anywhere,” she admits.

This sense of liminality followed her into the industry. Early on, Hollywood seemed to operate in rigid categories, and the casting could feel quite binary. Cerda often found herself too specific for certain stereotypes and too ambiguous for others. She remembers seeing Sandra Oh on screen and recognising, for the first time, an Asian woman who was allowed to be spiky, loud, and complicated.

“That’s who I am. The one with edge.”

Photographer: Jemima Shoots. Hair: Paul Donovan. Makeup: Jessica Kell 

Before acting became her full-time profession, Cerda built a stable career in advertising. She was promoted quickly, financially secure, and outwardly successful. Leaving that behind was a gradual decision. As the first in her family to attend college, she felt both immense pride and pressure. To her immigrant parents who had sacrificed materially, a professional career represented safety. (Creativity can sometimes feel like a risk not everyone can afford).

She recalls early days running a Latino-based comedy troupe in New York, writing and staging monthly live shows. The dance of rehearsal and performance remains, for her, one of the purest and most addictive creative cycles.

Photographer: Jemima Shoots. Hair: Paul Donovan. Makeup: Jessica Kell 

At the same time, she is drawn to projects that push genre. High-concept sci-fi, psychologically ambitious storytelling, and anything and everything that stretches narrative boundaries. It’s always about the depth for Julee. Whether sitcom or epic, she wants work that demands purpose from her.

When she eventually told her parents she wanted to pursue acting seriously, she expected resistance. Instead, she received blessing. “You’ve done everything we’ve ever asked,” they told her. “Go do what you want.”

It all seems quite serendipitous in hindsight. The corporate years funded classes, gave her life experience, and, as she notes almost casually, led her to meet her husband.

Cerda tells me about the most rewarding experience of her life. Motherhood. She describes meeting her husband and knowing she wanted to build something tangible with him. Creating their daughter reshaped her understanding of purpose. “We’re breaking curses,” she says emotionally, describing the generational work of giving children a more expansive world than the one we inherited.

In that sense, Solo Mio feels weirdly aligned with her philosophy. It is a film about what happens when life does not follow the script; about remaining in the city even when the wedding collapses.

Photographer: Jemima Shoots. Hair: Paul Donovan. Makeup: Jessica Kell 

Cerda’s career, like the film’s narrative, suggests that identity and joy do not require a single, clean arc. Like her, they can contain multitudes.

Solo Mio is available to watch exclusively in theatres now.