Latest news with #IndianaJonesandtheTempleofDoom
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
17 Wild "Then Vs. Now" Photos Of Former Child Stars That Will Make You Feel Very, Very Old
Brenda Song in The Suite Life of Zack of Cody, age 17: Here's Brenda Song now, age 37: Ke Huy Quan in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, age 12: Here's Ke Huy Quan now, age 53: Lana Condor in X-Men: Apocalypse, age 18: Here's Lana Condor now, age 28: Hailee Steinfeld in True Grit, age 13: Here's Hailee Steinfeld now, age 28: Vanessa Hudgens in Thunderbirds, age 15: Here's Vanessa Hudgens now, age 36: Auli'i Cravalho (voice of Moana) when Moana was released, age 16: Here's Auliʻi Cravalho now, age 24: Related: People Are Talking About The Most Shocking Celebrity Deaths That Don't Get Enough Attention Maitreyi Ramakrishnan in Never Have I Ever, age 18: Here's Maitreyi Ramakrishnan now, age 23: Hudson Yang in Fresh Off the Boat, age 11: Here's Hudson Yang now, age 21: Devon Aoki in 2 Fast 2 Furious, age 20: Here's Devon Aoki in 2023, age 40: Related: 21 Times Celebrities Revealed Wildly Juicy, Shady, Or Even Disturbing Things In Interviews Ian Chen in Fresh Off the Boat, age 8: Here's Ian Chen now, age 18: Arden Cho in Teen Wolf, age 19: Here's Arden Cho now, age 39: Sydney Park in That's So Raven, age 8: Here's Sydney Park now, age 27: Malese Jow in Unfabulous, age 14: Here's Malese Jow now, age 34: Forrest Wheeler in Fresh Off the Boat, age 8: Here's Forrest Wheeler in 2023, age 19: Anna Cathcart in To All the Boys, age 14: Here's Anna Cathcart now, age 21: Avan Jogia in Victorious, age 17: Here's Avan Jogia now, age 33: finally, here's Olivia Rodrigo in Bizaardvark, age 13: Here's Olivia Rodrigo now, age 22: Did any of these transformations surprise you? Let us know in the comments below! Check out more AAPI-centered content by exploring how BuzzFeed celebrates Asian Pacific American Heritage Month! Of course, the content doesn't end after May. Follow BuzzFeed's A*Pop on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube to keep up with our latest AAPI content year-round. Also in Celebrity: 14 Celebrities Who Have So Many Kids, They're Basically Running Their Own Daycare, And 11 Who Said "Hmm, Hard Pass" Also in Celebrity: Keke Palmer's "Sickening" Dress Has The Internet In Shambles Also in Celebrity: 24 Strange, Gross, And Totally Surprising Facts About Red Carpet Outfits
Buzz Feed
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Buzz Feed
17 Famous AAPI Child Actors Then Vs. Now Photos
Here's Brenda Song in The Suite Life of Zack of Cody, age 17: Here's Brenda Song now, age 37: Here's Ke Huy Quan in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, age 12: Here's Ke Huy Quan now, age 53: Here's Lana Condor in X-Men: Apocalypse, age 18: Here's Lana Condor now, age 28: Here's Hailee Steinfeld in True Grit, age 13: Here's Hailee Steinfeld now, age 28: Here's Vanessa Hudgens in Thunderbirds, age 15: Here's Vanessa Hudgens now, age 36: Here's Auli'i Cravalho (voice of Moana) when Moana was released, age 16: Here's Auliʻi Cravalho now, age 24: Here's Maitreyi Ramakrishnan in Never Have I Ever, age 18: Here's Maitreyi Ramakrishnan now, age 23: Here's Hudson Yang in Fresh Off the Boat, age 11: Here's Hudson Yang now, age 21: Here's Devon Aoki in 2 Fast 2 Furious, age 20: Here's Devon Aoki in 2023, age 40: Here's Ian Chen in Fresh Off the Boat, age 8: Here's Ian Chen now, age 18: Here's Arden Cho in Teen Wolf, age 19: Here's Arden Cho now, age 39: Here's Sydney Park in That's So Raven, age 8: Here's Sydney Park now, age 27: Here's Malese Jow in Unfabulous, age 14: Here's Malese Jow now, age 34: Here's Forrest Wheeler in Fresh Off the Boat, age 8: Here's Forrest Wheeler in 2023, age 19: Here's Anna Cathcart in To All the Boys, age 14: Here's Anna Cathcart now, age 21: Here's Avan Jogia in Victorious, age 17: Here's Avan Jogia now, age 33: And finally, here's Olivia Rodrigo in Bizaardvark, age 13: Here's Olivia Rodrigo now, age 22: Did any of these transformations surprise you? Let us know in the comments below! Check out more AAPI-centered content by exploring how BuzzFeed celebrates Asian Pacific American Heritage Month! Of course, the content doesn't end after May. Follow BuzzFeed's A*Pop on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube to keep up with our latest AAPI content year-round.
South China Morning Post
16-04-2025
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
Meet Steven Spielberg's wife of 30-plus years, Kate Capshaw: she's been an actress, producer, painter, model and teacher – and is the matriarch of the acclaimed director's extended, blended family
Amid the mixed responses to Disney's new live-action Snow White, leading lady Rachel Zegler opened up about how she bagged the title role. She revealed on Jimmy Kimmel Live! that it was a 'glowing recommendation' Webb received about her from Steven Spielberg, who directed her in the Oscar-winning film West Side Story, that helped her book the part. Rachel Zegler in a scene from Disney's live-action version of Snow White. Photo: Disney via AP Zegler isn't the first to find their breakout role while working with the War Horse director. Actors like Gwyneth Paltrow Christian Bale and Drew Barrymore all found their big breaks in Hollywood through a Spielberg film, but did you know that the director met his own wife, Kate Capshaw, when he cast her for one of his movies? Here's everything to know about Spielberg's wife. Kate Capshaw's background Steven Spielberg and Kate Capshaw at the 1999 Oscars, in Los Angeles. Photo: AFP Advertisement Capshaw, 71, born Kathleen Sue Nail, hails from Fort Worth, Texas. Her mother, Beverley Sue, was a cosmetologist and travel consultant; father Edwin worked for an airline. She's a University of Missouri alumna, having studied history education and special education. What does Kate Capshaw do for work? Steven Spielberg and Kate Capshaw met when he cast her in 1984's Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, starring Harrison Ford. Photo: @stevenspielbergfans/Instagram Capshaw taught Missouri children with learning disabilities, per People. After quitting – she told Entertainment Tonight she didn't find it 'stimulating' – she moved to New York with husband Robert Capshaw and embarked on a modelling career. After their split, she turned to acting and made her debut in TV series The Edge of Night. She subsequently appeared in films including Black Rain (1989) and Just Cause (1995). In 2022, Capshaw produced and gave art direction on Marcus Mumford's Spielberg-directed music video, 'Cannibal'. She's also an artist, her paintings featuring in exhibitions. How did she meet Steven Spielberg? Kate Capshaw and Steven Spielberg at the 2002 premiere of his film Minority Report, in New York. Photo: AP Per People, Capshaw and Spielberg met when he cast her in 1984's Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, starring Harrison Ford . The following year the Oscar-winning director, now 78, married Carrie actress Amy Irving, eventually moving in with Capshaw after his divorce in 1989. Spielberg and Capshaw married in 1991, Capshaw converting to Judaism for him. Their blended family
CNN
05-03-2025
- CNN
‘The Mountain that Eats Men.' This Bolivian town is the only place in the world where you can legally buy dynamite
Six tourists wearing hard hats and heavy overalls sit, cramped up in a narrow mineshaft, with barely enough space to kneel. The local tour guide pulls out a disposable lighter, ignites a bright green fuse with it, and calmly ushers everyone backward. 'Any moment,' he says. A moment later, a powerful shockwave rips through the tunnel, tailed by a dust cloud. He's just set off a stick of dynamite bought at the local market earlier that day by one of the tourists — it cost 13 Bolivianos (just under $2). The Bolivian mining city of Potosí is the only place in the world where members of the public can legally buy dynamite. 'For the miners, the most essential thing is dynamite,' says Jhonny Condori, a Potosí mine tour guide. 'If you don't know how to handle it, it's dangerous.' But for experienced miners, it greatly speeds up the rate at which they can extract minerals. Centuries old, Potosí's network of mines is extensive. Miners run up and down long, narrow passageways, pushing carts full of fragmented rock along worn railway tracks — it's a scene reminiscent of something from 'Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom' or Wario's Gold Mine in Mario Kart. Potosí is over 4,000 meters (13,000 feet) above sea level, making it one of the highest cities in the world. Its narrow streets and the red-tiled roofs and stucco walls of its buildings hint at its Spanish colonial past. Much of the mining takes place within the adjacent, red-colored 'Cerro Rico' (literally 'Rich Mountain' in English) — so named because of the vast wealth it once brought to the city. Today, 'Potosí is considered one of the poorest regions in all of Bolivia,' says Julio Vera Ayarachi, another local tour guide. Legend tells that the rich silver deposits of the Cerro Rico were first discovered by Diego Gualpa, an indigenous Andean prospector, who stumbled across them in 1545. 'The secret got out. You can't hide that kind of news,' says Kris Lane, professor of liberal arts at Tulane University in New Orleans, and author of 'Potosí: The Silver City That Changed the World.' Before long, Spanish colonizers — who had arrived in the region just a few years before — caught wind of the discovery and began exploiting the mountain's abundant silver. 'It developed very quickly into a kind of nightmarish place,' says Lane. 'It's a place that's lawless, it's a place of forced labor.' Indigenous people were obligated to work for and produce material tributes to the Spanish king, under a system that was 'very close to enslavement,' he adds. A surge of wealthy merchants began arriving from around the world to build infrastructure and profit from the mines. As techniques improved, conditions declined further, says Lane. Toxic mercury was introduced to the refining process, for example, which leached into the environment and led to the deaths of many. The Cerro Rico became known as 'The Mountain That Eats Men' — a name that persists among miners to this day. Potosí soon grew into to fourth largest city in the Christian world, with a population of more than 200,000 by the end of the 16th century. It's thought to have supplied 60% of the world's silver at the time, funding the Spanish empire and other dynasties around the globe. 'Silver crosses borders in a way that a bronze coin or a copper coin could not,' says Lane. Its relative scarcity gave it intrinsic value and 'people came to expect that Potosí silver was trustworthy,' he says. However, over time, the once seemingly endless silver reserves began to dry up. By the time Bolivia declared its independence in 1825, almost all the silver had already been mined and Potosí became a shell of its former self. Though mining still goes on in there today, much of it is for cheaper minerals like tin and zinc. Hundreds of miles of mine shafts have made the mountain unstable — as a result, it is currently the 'most dangerous time that the mines have witnessed,' says Lane. Nevertheless, 'in terms of mining, well, not much has changed,' says Oscar Torrez Villapuma, another local tour guide. Miners in Potosí still pray to the same gods, follow the same rituals and die of the same respiratory diseases as their ancestors, centuries before, he continues. Each mine shaft entrance in Potosí is marked by a horned, devil-like effigy — known locally as 'El Tío' (the uncle). El Tío is usually red, decorated with colorful ribbons around his neck, and frequently portrayed with a large, erect penis: a symbol of fertility. 'We are very polytheistic, we believe in various gods,' says Condori. While many indigenous Andeans worship the Christian God introduced by their Spanish colonizers, most also revere the Pachamama — or Mother Earth — a feminine, Incan divinity. Naturally, 'there must be some underworld male figure that protects Pacha Mama from over-exploitation,' says Lane, providing one possible origin for El Tío. Villapuma suggests, instead, that the figure was introduced by colonial bosses to intimidate their indigenous workforce, 'but nowadays, he is the one who gives us fortune,' he says. Either way, El Tío statues today are littered with coca leaves, cigarette butts, empty beer cans and spirit bottles: offerings from miners and tourists, so that he might grant safe passage through the mine and reward them with abundant minerals. Locals also regularly slaughter llamas and smear the animals' blood at mine entrances in the hope of quenching El Tío's thirst for blood. Life expectancy for Bolivian miners is thought to be as low as 40 years. Common early deaths result from frequent accidents in the mines and silicosis, a chronic lung disease caused by breathing in silica — 'essentially ground glass is what it amounts to,' says Lane. 'It was a sign of toughness that you didn't wear a mask,' he continues, explaining how this exacerbates the issue — 'and mine workers in Bolivia are seen as the toughest nuts to crack.' The legal minimum working age in Bolivia is 14 years old, but loopholes mean that children can often work from much younger. Some reports have suggested that children as young as six still work in Bolivian mines. 'In this space of apparent horror, you find comradery, creativity… music comes out of this place, interesting poetry, lots of cultural fluorescence,' says Lane. Potosí hosts a vibrant 'mining carnival' between February and March each year, which draws in huge numbers of travelers. Tradition dictates that miners dress in their work clothes and dance through the town, drinking beer and wielding El Tío puppets. Local women — known as Cholitas — wear elaborate dresses and perform choreographed displays to the music of marching bands. Following the festivities, many of the tourists return to Bolivia's capital, La Paz, along the same bumpy overnight bus route that brought them to Potosí. Miners and their families, however, remain, returning to their often brutal, repetitive daily routines for another year.
Yahoo
05-03-2025
- Yahoo
‘The Mountain that Eats Men.' This Bolivian town is the only place in the world where you can legally buy dynamite
Six tourists wearing hard hats and heavy overalls sit, cramped up in a narrow mineshaft, with barely enough space to kneel. The local tour guide pulls out a disposable lighter, ignites a bright green fuse with it, and calmly ushers everyone backward. 'Any moment,' he says. A moment later, a powerful shockwave rips through the tunnel, tailed by a dust cloud. He's just set off a stick of dynamite bought at the local market earlier that day by one of the tourists — it cost 13 Bolivianos (just under $2). The Bolivian mining city of Potosí is the only place in the world where members of the public can legally buy dynamite. 'For the miners, the most essential thing is dynamite,' says Jhonny Condori, a Potosí mine tour guide. 'If you don't know how to handle it, it's dangerous.' But for experienced miners, it greatly speeds up the rate at which they can extract minerals. Centuries old, Potosí's network of mines is extensive. Miners run up and down long, narrow passageways, pushing carts full of fragmented rock along worn railway tracks — it's a scene reminiscent of something from 'Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom' or Wario's Gold Mine in Mario Kart. Potosí is over 4,000 meters (13,000 feet) above sea level, making it one of the highest cities in the world. Its narrow streets and the red-tiled roofs and stucco walls of its buildings hint at its Spanish colonial past. Much of the mining takes place within the adjacent, red-colored 'Cerro Rico' (literally 'Rich Mountain' in English) — so named because of the vast wealth it once brought to the city. Today, 'Potosí is considered one of the poorest regions in all of Bolivia,' says Julio Vera Ayarachi, another local tour guide. Legend tells that the rich silver deposits of the Cerro Rico were first discovered by Diego Gualpa, an indigenous Andean prospector, who stumbled across them in 1545. 'The secret got out. You can't hide that kind of news,' says Kris Lane, professor of liberal arts at Tulane University in New Orleans, and author of 'Potosí: The Silver City That Changed the World.' Before long, Spanish colonizers — who had arrived in the region just a few years before — caught wind of the discovery and began exploiting the mountain's abundant silver. 'It developed very quickly into a kind of nightmarish place,' says Lane. 'It's a place that's lawless, it's a place of forced labor.' Indigenous people were obligated to work for and produce material tributes to the Spanish king, under a system that was 'very close to enslavement,' he adds. A surge of wealthy merchants began arriving from around the world to build infrastructure and profit from the mines. As techniques improved, conditions declined further, says Lane. Toxic mercury was introduced to the refining process, for example, which leached into the environment and led to the deaths of many. The Cerro Rico became known as 'The Mountain That Eats Men' — a name that persists among miners to this day. Potosí soon grew into to fourth largest city in the Christian world, with a population of more than 200,000 by the end of the 16th century. It's thought to have supplied 60% of the world's silver at the time, funding the Spanish empire and other dynasties around the globe. 'Silver crosses borders in a way that a bronze coin or a copper coin could not,' says Lane. Its relative scarcity gave it intrinsic value and 'people came to expect that Potosí silver was trustworthy,' he says. However, over time, the once seemingly endless silver reserves began to dry up. By the time Bolivia declared its independence in 1825, almost all the silver had already been mined and Potosí became a shell of its former self. Though mining still goes on in there today, much of it is for cheaper minerals like tin and zinc. Hundreds of miles of mine shafts have made the mountain unstable — as a result, it is currently the 'most dangerous time that the mines have witnessed,' says Lane. Nevertheless, 'in terms of mining, well, not much has changed,' says Oscar Torrez Villapuma, another local tour guide. Miners in Potosí still pray to the same gods, follow the same rituals and die of the same respiratory diseases as their ancestors, centuries before, he continues. Each mine shaft entrance in Potosí is marked by a horned, devil-like effigy — known locally as 'El Tío' (the uncle). El Tío is usually red, decorated with colorful ribbons around his neck, and frequently portrayed with a large, erect penis: a symbol of fertility. 'We are very polytheistic, we believe in various gods,' says Condori. While many indigenous Andeans worship the Christian God introduced by their Spanish colonizers, most also revere the Pachamama — or Mother Earth — a feminine, Incan divinity. Naturally, 'there must be some underworld male figure that protects Pacha Mama from over-exploitation,' says Lane, providing one possible origin for El Tío. Villapuma suggests, instead, that the figure was introduced by colonial bosses to intimidate their indigenous workforce, 'but nowadays, he is the one who gives us fortune,' he says. Either way, El Tío statues today are littered with coca leaves, cigarette butts, empty beer cans and spirit bottles: offerings from miners and tourists, so that he might grant safe passage through the mine and reward them with abundant minerals. Locals also regularly slaughter llamas and smear the animals' blood at mine entrances in the hope of quenching El Tío's thirst for blood. Life expectancy for Bolivian miners is thought to be as low as 40 years. Common early deaths result from frequent accidents in the mines and silicosis, a chronic lung disease caused by breathing in silica — 'essentially ground glass is what it amounts to,' says Lane. 'It was a sign of toughness that you didn't wear a mask,' he continues, explaining how this exacerbates the issue — 'and mine workers in Bolivia are seen as the toughest nuts to crack.' The legal minimum working age in Bolivia is 14 years old, but loopholes mean that children can often work from much younger. Some reports have suggested that children as young as six still work in Bolivian mines. 'In this space of apparent horror, you find comradery, creativity… music comes out of this place, interesting poetry, lots of cultural fluorescence,' says Lane. Potosí hosts a vibrant 'mining carnival' between February and March each year, which draws in huge numbers of travelers. Tradition dictates that miners dress in their work clothes and dance through the town, drinking beer and wielding El Tío puppets. Local women — known as Cholitas — wear elaborate dresses and perform choreographed displays to the music of marching bands. Following the festivities, many of the tourists return to Bolivia's capital, La Paz, along the same bumpy overnight bus route that brought them to Potosí. Miners and their families, however, remain, returning to their often brutal, repetitive daily routines for another year.
