From starting his career with award-winning documentaries screened at Cannes, Berlin, and New York, Derick Cabrido has gone on to make a mark in mainstream horror. His notable films include Clarita (2019), starring Jodi Sta. Maria; U-Turn (2020), with Kim Chiu; and the 2023 MMFF entry Mallari, in which Piolo Pascual played three roles.

Now showing in cinemas is Cabrido’s latest horror film, P77, headlined by Barbie Forteza as Luna, in her first leading role for a major local production, backed by GMA Pictures and GMA Public Affairs.

Blending psychological tension with jump scares, along with a touch of Kubrickian sex cult imagery (though far milder), the film piqued my curiosity. I reached out to Cabrido for a virtual sit-down.

STEPHANIE MAYO: You mentioned Barbie was already in mind even before the script was finished. What made her the right choice for Luna?

DERICK CABRIDO: Even before Luna had a full backstory, I couldn’t get Barbie out of my head. My producers and I selected her early on. There was something in her energy that felt honest and haunting. She embodies this fragile resilience that’s rare. You see the cracks, but also the fight. Luna was written with that kind of quiet strength in mind, and Barbie carried it effortlessly.

Barbie said she used different scents for each role and reread the full script before every shoot. How did that kind of preparation reflect in her performance?

Barbie’s process was a pleasant surprise. She used a specific earthy scent, resinous and grounding, to help her tap into Luna’s headspace. It was instinctive, not performative. She would breathe it in and immediately shift into this state of paranoia and longing that the character required.

Beyond that, her discipline was impressive. Even on days when we shot scenes out of sequence, she never lost Luna’s emotional thread. She read the full script beforehand, always came with questions, and remained open to correction. What stood out was how alive she was. Her reactions felt spontaneous but deeply rooted in craft. You could see it in small details: the way she held silence, adjusted pacing, or let her gaze linger. She didn’t just play Luna — she inhabited her.

P77 is a horror film, but Barbie mentioned it has a lot of heart. Beyond scares, what do you want people to take away emotionally?

P77 is built to unsettle, but its real ambition is emotional. I designed it as a haunted mirror, one that reflects personal fears — grief, isolation, and the desperate need to protect the people we love. Beneath the dread is a portrait of a broken family trying to hold on to something human.

If people leave talking about the scares, that’s fine. Fear is universal. But my deeper hope is that they walk away quietly disturbed, maybe more empathetic. I want them to think about trauma not just as a plot device, but as something that binds or breaks us. The horror is real, but so is the heartbreak.

Horror is all about tension. What visual style or techniques did you use to build that sense of fear, especially in the penthouse setting?

We treated the penthouse like a character — elegant but oppressive. It is a space that deceives with beauty while suffocating the people inside it. We used static frames and negative space, letting viewers feel that something might be lurking just off-camera. When the camera moves, it does so slowly and slightly off-center, enough to make you feel like something is wrong, even if you can’t name it.

Lighting played a huge part. Luna’s scenes in the informal settlement were lit with warmth and chaos, while the penthouse was cold, controlled, almost surreal. That contrast creates tension between illusion and reality. Mycko David’s cinematography was vital. He lit each space to evoke memory and mood. Layered with sound design built around distant echoes, unnatural silences, and an emotionally driven score, every frame was engineered to unsettle.

You’ve worked with Enrico Santos before. How was this film different, and how did it challenge you creatively in blending psychological horror with emotion?

Enrico has always had a mastery of subtext and silence. He doesn’t just write scenes, he sculpts them. His dialogue feels like breath held beneath water, where the tension isn’t in what’s said, but in everything left unsaid. Emotion lingers in the pauses. It echoes in the blank spaces between his words. P77 amplified that artistry. It wasn’t just a script, it was choreography — a relentless, intimate duet between dread and desire.