Luis Gerardo Méndez on ‘Animals,’ Ben Affleck, and the Human Face of Immigration

When my agent called and said Ben Affleck wanted me for his new movie, I almost laughed. I couldn’t believe the Oscar‑winning director even knew who I was. But then the script arrived, and at the back of the page was a handwritten note from Ben: ‘Hey Luis, I really want you in this. I’m planning a rewrite just for your character. Let’s talk around Christmas.’ I remember thinking, ‘This is real.’

We didn’t meet in person until the first day of rehearsal, and Ben greeted me the way you’d greet an old friend—big, boisterous, and completely sincere. He clapped me on the back, shouted that I was “the best actor in Mexico,” and practically raved about my work on Narcos: Mexico to everyone in the room. I asked him why he was so excited, and he said it was because of the role he’d written for me: Ramon, the undocumented boyfriend of the housekeeper, a part that felt personal and urgent.

In Animals, Ben not only stars as a Los Angeles mayoral candidate whose son gets kidnapped, he also directs and co‑writes the film. My character, Ramon, gets pulled into the kidnapping crisis, and Ben kept sending me notes that seemed to read my mind. He added the small details that make a migrant’s voice feel authentic—the cadence, the pauses, the nervous humor. It was as if the script was rewriting itself to match what I knew about people like Ramon.

Beyond the thrills of a thriller, I hope the movie does something else: it should make people pause and remember why anyone leaves home. Most immigrants aren’t fleeing for adventure; they’re fleeing violence, persecution, or a climate that’s turning their lives upside down. They’re hardworking, ordinary people taking massive risks for the chance to build a better life. If a Hollywood film can shine a light on that, maybe it can change a few minds.

I split my time between Los Angeles and Mexico City, and when I’m not on set I travel the world as a goodwill ambassador for the UNHCR. Seeing families torn apart by ICE policies—like the tragic shooting of Oscar Belgal in New York—hits me hard. No matter the paperwork, dignity shouldn’t be taken away. It’s a simple truth, but one we keep forgetting.

Climate change is another looming driver of migration. In California we’re already seeing communities displaced by droughts and wildfires. Tomorrow, the tables could turn, and we might be the ones seeking refuge. That’s why empathy matters now more than ever. If we can listen to stories like Ramon’s, we’ll understand that “you could be next” isn’t a threat—it’s a reminder to open our doors.