PHOTOGRAPHY BY GUSTAVO ASTUDILLO @gustavoastudillo
WORDS BY KIMBERLY HADDAD
Pedro Correa doesn’t exactly take the straight road. One moment he’s crashing into thorn bushes filming DIY stunts, the next he’s using film as the confrontation he never had in real life with My Dead Dad (2021, HBO Max)—a project he wrote, produced, and starred in before he turned 30. He’s had his share of sitcom cameos, including ABC’s The Middle (2009), and collaborations with streamers from Hulu to Disney to Syfy, but it’s behind the lens where things get even more interesting. Correa has directed glossy short films for global fashion titles like GQ, Esquire, Marie Claire, and Flaunt, sharpening his storytelling style in unexpected corners of the industry.
Now, he’s about to pull off his biggest pivot yet: stepping into the world of Silicon Valley myth-making as Diego in Swiped—the OG programmer behind an iconic dating app, and best friend to co-founder Justin Mateen (played by Jackson White)—opposite Lily James, Myha’la, Dan Stevens, and more. The film premieres at TIFF’s 50th anniversary before landing on Hulu in late September. Call him an actor, filmmaker, mentor, brand muse—none of the labels really stick. Correa thrives in the in-between, where conventions loosen and the best ideas crawl into your nightmares.
What’s a childhood memory that shaped the way you see storytelling now?
At age eight, my neighborhood friends and I filmed our own versions of Jackass. Most of it ended with us stuffed into a thorn bush. It taught me at a young age that no matter the medium, you have to get people to double-take at your train-wreck of a show, and sometimes that ends in broken bones.
Was film always the dream, or did it sneak up on you later?
I grew up wanting to be a professional snowboarder. But when my mom shipped me off to the Middle East as a teenager for an overseas teaching job she landed, I found another way to entertain.
Growing up, did your family “get” your creative side, or were you kind of figuring it out alone?
No one in my family is in entertainment, but my mom was always a big crafter— whether it was scrapbooking, a handwritten letter, or a joke, she was always crafting. And I think for me, crafting something little by little became addicting. The process of editing something down is a gradual discovery of who you are, and it’s addicting.
If I walked into your teenage bedroom, what posters, books, or music would I find?
You would find four walls, the ceiling, and even the floor caked in graffiti. When I was 11 years old, I discovered a love for graffiti, and in an effort to channel that creative energy into something positive, my mom let me turn my bedroom into a “free wall.” My childhood bedroom was so hot-boxed by spray paint fumes that I once wore a gas mask to bed.
You’ve worn a lot of hats—actor, writer, producer, mentor. Which role feels most like home to you?
Directing these days. I like the “team sport” of filmmaking as I get older. I used to strictly be a one-man band, but I look up to people like the former coach of the Chicago Bulls, Phil Jackson, for his orchestration of a team outside himself. Side note: I know nothing about sports. I just love Phil Jackson.
You’ve mentored a lot of filmmakers through Never Norm. What’s the one piece of advice you give that you also have to remind yourself of ?
If they won’t let you in the front, sneak in through the back.
You wrote, produced, and starred in the HBO Max film, My Dead Dad. Did making this film change the way you think about family, or did it just put into words what you already felt?
My Dead Dad taught me that getting your guts out of your head and onto the screen is cathartic. I was resentful for some of my childhood when the idea came to me, but by the time we picture-wrapped, I learned to be grateful.
Looking back, do you think My Dead Dad was more about grieving someone else, or more about finding yourself ?
I grew up non-confrontational with family, and so bringing My Dead Dad to life felt like the safest, yet most dangerous medium to get out a lot of things that ate me up as a teenager.
Swiped has this wild hook about the origin story of dating apps. How did you find your way into Diego—a character that’s inspired by a billion dollar story, but also kind of mythic in startup lore?
Being at peace with committing to villainhood makes a hero work. Justifying the emotions behind a hurt person who hurts people helped bring Diego to life. Although it’s hard for me to watch the final cut without Diego making my skin crawl—but that’s the point.
TIFF is a huge platform. What’s running through your head about this premiere—excitement, nerves, or are you just trying not to overthink it?
I’m just excited to have a beer and celebrate with my friends.
You’ve worked with brands like COS, Cartier, and Tag Heuer. Do you see brand work as its own kind of storytelling, or is it a different lane for you?
Brand work is its own beast. Nearly every time, I go overboard on directing a project that’s too “out there.” Some of my best work has almost gotten me fired.
How do you know an idea is worth making—what’s the gut check?
If I have nightmares about it. I love chasing ideas that don’t have the “right answer presented to you in their conclusion—the ones that sparks endless, arguable conversations are the ones I know are worth it.
You’ve already built your own company, made your own feature, and now you’re in a 20th Century Studios film. Do you ever stop to process that, or are you always onto the next thing?
When I was younger I was only thinking 60 steps ahead. Now, I’ve learned to enjoy the moment a bit more. If you don’t, what’s the point?
What’s the dream project—the one you haven’t said out loud too much yet?
I’m cooking up two of them, both directed by me, that’ll blow everything I’ve done so far out of the water.
