GN: Voicing Mabel in Hoppers feels like stepping into an entirely new universe. When you first read the script, what stirred in you, was it wonder, responsibility, curiosity, or something more personal?

PC: I never got to read a script, and still haven’t, because of how protective Pixar can be of their stores. The initial pitch with Daniel Chong (the director) made it hard not to want to do this. It’s a movie that I think we really need right now, and as referential as it can be to other films, it is completely its own and will 100% surprise anyone that goes to see it, and what a special thing it is to get to be a part of that. 

GN: Mabel enters a world where human consciousness can “hop” into robotic animals. What did that concept unlock in you emotionally, especially in terms of empathy and how we listen to one another?

PC: I think I’ve always been maybe too empathetic. I’m always putting myself in others’ shoes, even if they don’t want me to. I think that’s one of the more unique focuses of our movie. One of our “pond rules” is “we’re all in this together,” and that doesn’t work unless you’re willing to hear others out or listen to them when they have something to say. 

GN: Voice acting asks for vulnerability without the armor of physical expression. How did you find Mabel’s emotional truth using only your voice?

PC: Fortunately, tapping into Mabel’s emotion was not difficult for me. Unfortunately, it’s because I too struggle with rage and grief and a body that feels too much. I think one of the more exciting parts about being part of this project, for me, is getting to play a character that is so distinctly me, and someone who I understand on such a deep and visceral level.

GN: There’s something poetic about a story that allows humans to communicate as animals. What do you think this film says about connection, especially in a world that often feels disconnected?

PC: There are so many complex themes in this movie, some of which you might not expect from a studio like Pixar. The greater message always boils down to some variation of “we can go farther if we work together,” or “it’s cool to care and be kind,” or “just listen to each other,” and if people watching it can take away even one of those things, I think we will have accomplished something huge. 

GN: Animation lives in imagination first. What rituals or creative practices help you access that childlike sense of play while still honoring the emotional stakes of the story?

PC: It’s funny that you asked the question like this, because I’ve been saying doing voice work is a lot like playing House when you were a kid. Since there’s no costumes, no sets, and not even any other actors, you really have to pull from your own reservoir and figure out how to tap into that energy and that play in other ways. It was cool to get back to my roots, in a sense, that way and just be forced to pretend. I think actors can forget what it’s like to not rely on your surroundings to aid your performance, and that was definitely a learning curve for me in the booth. Having to rely on myself in the lighter moments also helped anchor me in the more emotionally complex moments. 

GN: You’ve moved fluidly between drama, comedy, network television, and now Pixar storytelling. Do you feel different versions of yourself surface with each genre, or is there a core Piper that remains unchanged?

PC: I am pretty consistently always myself, almost to a fault. I know a lot of folks in this industry that have a sort of Media Trained Version of themselves or a facade they put on to meet fans or other professionals, and I don’t think there’s necessarily anything wrong with that. We all do what we have to do to get by or get farther in this world, but for the life of me I’ve never been able to be anyone except who I am. I think therein lies why I love acting and maybe explains the variety in my career. I’m always me, so it can be fun and different and thrilling to be someone else for a time. The only time I get to do that is when I’m playing a role and, to perhaps flip your question, I’d say it’s more likely that there’s a bit of Piper that surfaces in every character I play rather than the other way around. 

GN: In films like Back on the Strip and your television work on The Morning Show, we’ve seen you navigate bold, adult worlds. What feels most tender or transformative about returning to a story that will reach families and younger audiences?

PC: Everything feels so heavy these days. It’s not just that there are people in far-off, war-torn countries that are struggling. Our neighbors are struggling. Our friends, our families. If I or this film can provide one laugh, one smile, one little crack of light for someone else, I’ll feel like we’ve done something huge. That’s something that feels really different from other films I’ve been a part of—I’ve never felt like they were something the greater public needed, but this one really feels like that. 

GN: Mabel is a seeker, she uncovers mysteries and asks questions. Were you like that as a child? What mysteries were you trying to solve?

PC: I was definitely not as chaotically adventurous as Mabel can be, but I do recall a day when I was probably around eight years old where me and a friend from school stood out on my front yard with a poster board advertising a detective service. I think I’d just read Nancy Drew or Harriet the Spy and really liked the idea of investigating something. We were never hired, but there was a woman who pulled over and gave us each a dollar to “put us on retainer” and that made our whole day. 

GN: There’s often a moment in every project where an actor realizes, This is special. Did that moment happen for you with Hoppers, and if so, what did it feel like?

PC: Every Pixar movie takes an average of about six years to make, which is wild. I joined in at year four, so I only spent the last two or so years working on it. When you spend that long working on a project, it’s like when you repeat a word over and over and it doesn’t start to sound like a word anymore. Even though we think these scenes are funny or sweet or moving, we’ve rewatched and rerecorded them so many times that, at a certain point, I have absolutely no concept of how other people will perceive it. So sitting in a full El Capitan theater during the world premiere, hearing a giant crowd react and laugh and cry in every way I wanted them to was when it hit me that this is exactly as special and phenomenal as I always thought it was. How did it feel? I cried. What else am I supposed to do but blubber? You expect me to handle this like a composed human? Never.

GN: How do you protect your inner creative voice in an industry that can be loud, fast, and demanding?

PC: Shut your ears, slow down, and don’t give in. The biggest way I’ve protected myself in this industry is by not doing what everyone else is doing, and not listening to what other people say I should be doing. I move very instinctively in most areas, life, love, career, and it has served me well thus far. The trap most people fall into is getting caught up in the noise and letting it lead them, but I let my head, heart, and body do most of the leading and it hasn’t let me down yet. 

GN: When audiences sit in theaters on March 6, 2026, what do you hope they carry with them when the credits roll, especially young viewers seeing Mabel for the first time?

PC: My biggest hope for young people that watch Hoppers and experience Mabel for the first time is for them to be able to look up to her. I hope people see that she cares and is still so cool and that, actually, it’s cool to care. She has such incredible drive, determination, and doesn’t let anyone stop her (even if they try really hard) from going after what she wants. If the next generation of kids was like her, I think they’d save the world. 

GN: Looking at your journey, from Disney Channel beginnings to auteur-driven cinema and now leading a Pixar film, what feels most aligned with who you are becoming, not just as an actress, but as a woman?

PC: I think the most interesting parallel between my career and my life is in the realm of gender identity. It’s hard to talk about who I am becoming “as a woman,” because quite often, I don’t even feel like a woman. I’ve been on that journey for a few years now, and it’s something that I feel like you can see in the way my career has evolved too. I’ve gotten to play a few non-binary or gender unspecified roles, and that wasn’t really something I did before I started investigating my own feelings about it. I guess I can’t say I feel most aligned with any one specific project, but more so I feel like my career and my life are finally aligning into what they both were always meant to be.

GN: What does the term Goodnight mean to you?

PC: My parents have always had full-time jobs, and my dad was in the military for the first twenty-something years of my life so they were busy a lot. Mom had to answer a lot of student phone calls at dinner, and dad had to miss a lot of birthdays to go serve in Iraq. The one thing they always made sure to do is tuck us in and say goodnight. They would always sing the line from the book Love You Forever, “I love you forever, I like you for always. As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.” I have those words tattooed on my body now in their handwriting. Goodnight, to me, has always meant sacrificial love and connection with intention and family. 

Images courtesy of Photographer: Raul Romo / Stylist: Amanda Lim / Hair/Makeup: Carleigh Herbert