Over the past 25 years, the world has grown to love one of Nickelodeon’s most recognizable characters, Dora Márquez. Whether for her conspicuous bowl cut and pink tee, or her singing anthropomorphic backpack, Dora the Explorer has sparked joy in children for generations.
But what happens when that adventurous girl loses the items that have guided and defined her for so long?
Self-discovery is the end goal of Dora’s latest quest in the new live-action film, “Dora and the Search for Sol Dorado,” which debuted July 2 on Paramount+. The film marks the start of a new journey for a girl who has long existed in the minds of viewers as the adventurous 7-year-old protagonist of the original 2000 animated series “Dora the Explorer” — and later in the short-lived 2014 sequel, “Dora and Friends: Into the City!”
Along with her animal-loving cousin Diego (Jacob Rodriguez) and friends, Dora (Samantha Lorraine) must rediscover who she is while trekking through the treacherous Amazonian jungle in search of Sol Dorado: an ancient treasure that grants one magical wish to whoever locates it. Yet her plans go awry when she finds herself losing one of her most valuable tools.
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Although most adults would not rank Dora in the same company as the gritty lead adventurers of “Indiana Jones” or “Tomb Raider,” the film features death-defying scenes that deserve a second look — thanks to the use of real fire and critter-riddled caves in the middle of the Colombian jungle.
Authenticity was key for director Alberto Belli (“The Naughty Nine”), who proposed to studio executives that Dora explore her Andean heritage, including the use of the indigenous language of Quechua, which is spoken by approximately 10 million people in South America.
“This is the first time that we hear Dora speaking Quechua, and we went through great lengths to make sure that the pronunciation was right,” says Belli, who also consulted with Incan culture experts on the Andean kinship principle of “ayllu,” along with the use of “quipu,” a recordkeeping device of knotted cords — both elements which are included in the storyline.
“We’ve seen figures like ‘Indiana Jones’ exploring other cultures, but Dora is the only mainstream [adventurer] exploring her own culture,” says Belli. “And she’s celebrating and interested in the history more than the treasure.”
(PABLO ARELLANO SPATARO/NICKELODEON/PARAMOUNT+)
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Dora’s innate curiosity is part of what cultivated her popularity among young children since Nickelodeon launched the series. Who can forget the pip-squeak who broke the fourth wall to reel in preschool audiences with problem-solving questions? Even if its repetitive verbiage drove parents a little mad? (You try saying “Swiper, no swiping!” three times fast!)
But for creators Chris Gifford and Valerie Walsh Valdes, the idea of Dora, as the world has come to love, was not so straightforward. Their early brainstorm sessions, along with Eric Weiner, first sprung up concepts of a little boy bunny who would follow a map toward a final destination — tagging along with him was a red-haired girl named Nina and a pocket-sized mouse named Boots.
Nickelodeon’s executive producer Brown Johnson— creator of the network’s preschool block, Nick Jr. — pitched the idea of the main character being Latina after attending an industry conference that underscored the dearth representation of Latinos in the media. According to the 2000 U.S. census, Latino communities were the nation’s fastest growing ethnic group at the time — and 20% of the kindergarten population across eight states, including California, identified as Latino.
The call for Latino characters was so resounding at the time that it caused some advocacy organizations to launch a weeklong boycott in 1999 to protest the dearth of Latino representation — Latinos made up fewer than 2% of TV characters at that time, despite making up 11% of the population in 1999. “ So we said, okay, how do we do it?” says Gifford.
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“One thing that we picked up on very early was using the language in a way to solve problems, almost as a superpower,” says Gifford. “I think that was a huge part of the success of Dora.”
Gifford calls Dora’s use of Spanish a “game changer,” and that certainly seems to be the case — in the show, magical passageways remain locked unless the viewer utters the occasional Spanish phrase or word. At the end of every successful mission, Dora belts out her victorious tune: “We did it, lo hicimos!”
Released on August 14, 2000, the first episode of “Dora the Explorer” moved forward in spite of an English-only movement bubbling up in California politics a few years prior; Proposition 227 passed in 1998 by a large margin, effectively curtailing bilingual education in the state.
(PABLO ARELLANO SPATARO/NICKELODEON/PARAMOUNT+)
“It was not the time that [someone] would think to [make Dora a bilingual character], but of course it was exactly the right time for it to happen,” says Gifford.
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The release of “Dora the Explorer” could not be more timely. While political angst pushed against the use of Spanish in the classroom, the country was simultaneously experiencing a “Latin Boom,” a pop culture movement propelled by Hispanic musical acts like Ricky Martin and Enrique Iglesias, who broke ground in the U.S. mainstream with bilingual hit singles like the famed “Livin’ la Vida Loca” and “Bailamos,” respectively. At the same time, actors like Rosie Perez, Salma Hayek and Jennifer Lopez were also making great strides for Latinas in film.
“There was this awareness [that] the Latino talent we have in this country [was] all coming to the forefront,” said Walsh Valdes. “The zeitgeist was there for us.”
But Dora’s appeal did not entirely hinge on her being a Latina character. In fact, she was designed to be ethnically ambiguous for that reason, suggested Carlos Cortés, professor emeritus in history at UC Riverside, who consulted the creative team. “Let’s let everybody be a part of this,” says Walsh Valdes on the choice to write Dora as pan-Latina.
Instead, the focus of the show remained on the missions; whether it was returning a lost baby penguin to the South Pole, or leading aliens back to their purple planet. In its first year, “Dora the Explorer” averaged 1.1 million viewers ages 2 to 5 and 2 million total viewers, according to Nielsen Co. The original show stretched on for almost two decades before closing out on Aug. 9, 2019.
“We saw such excitement from [little kids feeling] empowered by this girl who can go to a place like the city of lost toys… and little kids who can’t tie their own shoes can feel like they’re helping her,” says Gifford.
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The Dora world has also expanded into a tween-coded sequel, “Dora and Friends: Into the City!” and the spin-off “Go, Diego, Go!” — the environmental protection and animal rescue show starring Dora’s cousin Diego. Last year, Dora got a reboot on Nickelodeon’s parent company Paramount+, which was a full circle move for Kathleen Herles, who voiced Dora in the original series.
Now, Herles takes on the motherly role of “Mami” in the 2024 animated series, now available to stream on Paramount+. “Talk about going on another adventure,” says Herles in a video call.
Herles still remembers panicking after her audition back in 1998. Gifford, who was in the room, asked to speak to Herles’ mother, a Peruvian immigrant with slim knowledge of the entertainment biz at the time. “Being Latina, at first I [was] like, ‘Oh my God. She’s going to think I got in trouble,’” says Herles.
The opportunity not only changed the course of Herles’ life financially, but it also opened the door for her to travel the world and reenter the realm of entertainment after a brief career in interior design. Coincidentally, at the time of our call, the 34-year-old voice actor was house hunting in Los Angeles, preparing to move from her native New York City so that she can pursue more career opportunities.
“To me that’s really a testament to [the power of] Dora… because Dora’s an explorer, and she gave me the opportunity to explore,” says Herles.
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For 18-year old actress Lorraine, who stars as Dora in “Dora and the Search for Sol Dorado,” this marks her first lead role in any film. She fills big shoes; Isabela Merced, who now stars in HBO’s “The Last of Us,” was cast in the first live-action, standalone 2019 film for the franchise, “Dora and the Lost City of Gold.”
“When it comes to Latino representation, [Dora] was a trailblazer for that,” says Lorraine. “Being able to see a Latina woman in charge and taking the lead? We need more of that to this day.”
The Miami-born actor of Cuban descent, who previously starred in the 2023 Netflix movie “You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah,” answers the audio call after having just arrived in New York City, where she entertains the possibility of a Broadway career.
Like many young adults her age, Lorraine grew up enchanted by Dora’s adventures — so much that she admittedly got the same bob haircut. “She’s my role model,” says Lorraine. “Every time we would shoot a scene, I would think to myself, ‘What would little Samantha want to watch?’”
Throughout every Dora series and film, courage is the connective tissue in her story. “Dora and the Search for Sol Dorado” reminds audiences that the true navigational force behind the pint-size girl was always within her.
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And with a full rollout of fresh Dora content — including the new third season of the rebooted 2024 series “Dora,” and an hour-long special called “Dora & Diego: Rainforest Rescues” — even 25 years after the Latina explorer first appeared on screen, it’s clear that her legacy is enduring.
“She will always be that girl,” says Lorraine. “[She’s] that girl who yearns for adventure and has that curiosity spark in her, and that thirst for knowledge.”
Selected by Tajikistan but ultimately not accepted by the Academy to compete in the Oscar international feature category, “Black Rabbit, White Rabbit” begins ambitiously, with a famous quote from playwright Anton Chekhov about setups and payoffs — about how if a gun is established in a story, it must go off. Moments later, an inviting long take involving a young man selling an antique rifle ends in farcical tragedy, signaling an equally farcical series of events that grow stranger and stranger. The film, by Iranian director Shahram Mokri, folds in on itself in intriguing (albeit protracted) ways, warping its meta-fictional boundaries until they supersede its characters, or any underlying meaning.
Still, it’s a not-altogether-uninteresting exercise in exploring the contours of storytelling, told through numerous thematically interconnected vignettes. The opening Chekhov quote, though it might draw one’s attention to minor details that end up insignificant, ensures a heightened awareness of the movie’s artifice, until the film eventually pulls back and becomes a tale of its own making. But en route to this semi-successful postmodern flourish, its character drama is enticing enough on its own, with hints of magical realism. It begins with the tale of a badly injured upper-class woman, Sara (Hasti Mohammai), discovering that her car accident has left her with the ability to communicate with household objects.
Sara’s bandages need changing, and the stench of her ointment becomes a quick window into her relationships. Her distant husband rejects her; her boisterous stepdaughter is more frank, but ultimately accepting; her gardener and handyman stays as diplomatic as he can. However, the film soon turns the gunfire payoff in its prologue into a broader setup of its own, as a delivery man shows up at Sara’s gate, insisting that she accept delivery for an object “the deceased man” has paid for.
Mokri eventually returns to this story (through a slightly tilt-shifted lens), but not before swerving headfirst into a seemingly unrelated saga of extras on a film set and a superstitious prop master, Babak (Babak Karimi), working on a shot-for-shot remake of an Iranian classic. A mix of rapid-fire Tajik, Persian and Russian dialogue creates dilemma upon dilemma when Babak’s ID goes missing, preventing him from being able to thoroughly check the prop ammunition for an assassination scene.
Danger begins to loom — a recent Alec Baldwin case even warrants a mention on-screen — as the notion of faulty firearms yanks Chekhov’s wisdom front and center once more, transforming it from a writing tip into a phantasmagorical inevitability. In keeping with the previous story, the props even communicate with each other (through subtitles) and begin gossiping about what might come to pass.
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After establishing these narrative parameters through unbroken, fluid shots filmed at a sardonic distance, Mokri soon begins playing mischievous temporal games. He finds worthwhile excuses to revisit scenes from either different angles or with a slightly altered aesthetic approach — with more proximity and intimacy — in order to highlight new elements of his mise-en-scène. What’s “real” and “fictional,” even within the movie’s visual parlance, begins to blur in surreal ways, largely pivoting around Babak simply trying to do his job. However, the more this tale engorges through melodic, snaking takes, the more it circles around a central point, rather than approaching it.
The film’s own expanse becomes philosophically limiting, even though it remains an object of curiosity. When it’s all said and done, the playfulness on display in “Black Rabbit, White Rabbit” is quite remarkable, even if the story’s contorting framework seldom amounts to much, beyond drawing attention to itself. It’s cinema about cinema in a manner that, on one hand, lives on the surface, but on the other hand, invites you to explore its texture in ways few other movies do.
Abraham Quintanilla, father and manager of the late Tejano pop icon Selena Quintanilla, has died. He was 86.
“It’s with a heavy heart to let you guys know that my Dad passed away today,” Quintanilla’s son, A.B. Quintanilla III, wrote on his Instagram account on Saturday. The cause of death has not been disclosed to the public.
As patriarch of the famous Mexican American music family, Quintanilla played a critical role in the development of his daughter Selena’s career. After her tragic death in 1995, he dedicated his life to safeguarding her legacy and overseeing primary control over her estate. This included managing the rights to her image, name and likeness — at times, to controversial ends.
Born in Corpus Christi, Texas, in 1939, Quintanilla began his music career as a member of the singing group the Dinos in 1956, a Chicano rock group that was met with racial discrimination. In one instance, a club owner paid the group not to perform after realizing they were Mexican American youth; but the group was also sidelined by its Mexican counterparts for not making Spanish-language music.
Quintanilla’s exasperation informed a real quote that was later made famous by actor Edward James Olmos, who played Quintanilla in the 1997 “Selena” biopic: “We have to be more Mexican than the Mexicans and more American than the Americans, both at the same time. It’s exhausting!”
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Quintanilla would eventually step away from the group in the 1960s to start a family with Marcella Samora, whom he met in Tacoma, Wash., while serving in the U.S. Air Force. The family quickly grew following the births of A.B., Suzette and Selena. In them, he saw the potential to fulfill his own dreams of musical stardom.
With A.B. on bass, Suzette on drums and Selena as the tender vocalist, the trio would often perform at the family restaurant, PapaGayo’s, which later closed following the 1981 recession. The family was forced to sell their home in Lake Jackson, Texas, and move to Corpus Christi. In order to make ends meet, Selena y Los Dinos would perform on street corners, family parties and other social functions. Under the guidance of their father, who assumed the position of band manager, Los Dinos eventually signed with Freddie Records in 1984.
Selena was met with much skepticism from an early age as a young girl in a male-dominated genre, including by their first label head, Freddie Martinez. Still, Los Dinos persevered in the Tejano music scene, hopping from label to label before the group finally released eight albums under Manny Guerra’s independent labels, GP Productions and Record Producer Productions. With multiple albums under her belt, Selena was then able to dominate the Tejano Music Awards; she won the title of Female Vocalist of the Year in 1987.
Selena eventually caught the attention of Jose Behar, the former head of Sony Music Latin, who saw her crossover appeal — despite Selena’s primary language being English — and signed her to EMI Latin (Capitol Records) in 1989. This led to the release of her most career-defining hits across five albums, such as “Como la Flor,” “Amor Prohibido,” “Bidi Bidi Bom Bom” and the posthumously released ballad, “Dreaming of You.”
Following Selena’s murder in 1995 — by Yolanda Saldivar, the former president of her fan club — Quintanilla became a fierce protector of her image, which was often sensationalized by the public.
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Because of the grisly and highly publicized nature of Selena’s death, Quintanilla felt that the film needed to be made sooner than later, in order to do justice to his daughter’s legacy, said “Selena” director Gregory Nava in a 2025 interview with De Los.
“For me, as a filmmaker, I wanted to really tell a true story,” said Nava. “I had conflict, not really with the family, but with Abraham. Her father was very protective of her.”
Tensions flared most when Nava began to shape the story of the singer’s elopement with guitarist Chris Perez, whom she married in 1992.
“You can’t put on the screen that it’s right for a young girl to disobey her father,” Nava recalled Quintanilla saying.
“Isn’t it a more important point to make that she is doing what she knows is right? And [that] she’s doing the right thing because she knows she loves Chris and Chris loves her?” Nava responded.
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Eventually, Quintanilla relented. “I guess if I have to look bad to make Selena look good, I’ll do it,” Nava recalled him saying. “He has a soft heart. He finally saw that was the right thing to do, but it took hours of heated discussion.”
Although Suzette has said that the 1997 biopic came too soon in her eyes — and prompted criticism of her father, who some viewed as money-hungry and opportunistic — she ultimately stood by his decision, stating that there was a pressure within the family to control the narrative at the time.
Nava agreed.
“Abraham was very wise in pushing it through quickly,” he said. “Selena brought us all together, and it cemented her legacy in a positive way. All the negativity was dispelled by that movie. You see that in the film and you feel it.”
Kunal Nayyar in ‘Christmas Karma’
| Photo Credit: True Bit Entertainment/YouTube
Christmas jumpers are all I can remember of this film. As this reimagining of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol dragged on with sickly-sweet sentimentality and song, my eyes constantly tried to work out whether those snowflakes and reindeer were printed on the jerseys or, if knitted, how complicated the patterns would have been.
Christmas Karma (English)
Director: Gurinder Chadha
Starring: Kunal Nayyar, Leo Suter, Charithra Chandran, Pixie Lott, Danny Dyer, Boy George, Hugh Bonneville, Billy Porter, Eva Longoria, Mia Lomer
Storyline: A miserly businessman learns the true meaning of Christmas when visited by ghosts of Christmas past, present and future
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Runtime: 114 minutes
Gurinder Chadha, who gave us the gorgeous Bend it Like Beckham (who wants to make aloo gobi when you can bend the ball like Beckham indeed) has served up an unappetising Bollywood song-and-dance version of Dickens’ famous Christmas story.
A still from the film
| Photo Credit:
True Bit Entertainment/YouTube
A curmudgeonly Indian businessman, Ishaan Sood (Kunal Nayyar), fires his entire staff on Christmas Eve—except his accountant, Bob (Leo Suter)—after catching them partying at the office. Sood’s nephew, Raj (Shubham Saraf) invites him for a Christmas party which he refuses to attend.
He returns home after yelling at some carol singers for making a noise, the shopkeeper (Nitin Ganatra) at the corner for his business decisions and a cabbie (Danny Dyer) for being too cheerful.
His cook-housekeeper, Mrs. Joshi (Shobu Kapoor) tells him to enjoy his dinner in the dark as he has not paid for heat or electricity. He is visited by the spirit of his dead business partner, Marley (Hugh Bonneville), who is in chains with the spirits of all the people he wronged. Marley’s spirit tells Sood that he will be visited by three spirits who will reveal important life lessons.
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A still from the film
| Photo Credit:
True Bit Entertainment/YouTube
The Ghost of Christmas Past (Eva Longoria), with Day of the Dead makeup and three mariachis providing musical accompaniment, shows Sood his early, happy days in Uganda as a child and the trauma of being expelled from the country by Idi Amin.
Sood comes to Britain where his father dies of heartbreak and decides the only way out is to earn a lot of money. He meets and falls in love with Bea (Charithra Chandran) but loses her when he chooses paisa over pyaar even though he tries to tell her he is being ruthless only to earn enough to keep her in luxury.
The Ghost of Christmas Present (Billy Porter) shows Bob’s twee house full of Christmas cheer, despite the roast chicken past its sell-by date, and his young son, Tim, bravely smiling despite his illness.
The Ghost of Christmas Future (Boy George, Karma is sure a chameleon!) shows Sood dying alone except for Bob and Mrs. Joshi. He sees the error of his ways and throws much money around as he makes everything alright. He even ends up meeting up with his childhood friend in Uganda.
Apart from the mixed messages (money makes everything alright, let us pray for the NHS but go to Switzerland to get well) and schmaltzy songs, Christmas Karma suffers from weak writing and wooden acting.
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Priyanka Chopra’s Hindi rendition of George Michael’s ‘Last Christmas’ runs over the end credits featuring Chadha and the crew, bringing back fond memories of Bina Mistry’s ‘Hot Hot Hot’ from Bend it Like Beckham. Even a sitar version by Anoushka Shankar is to no avail as watching this version of A Christmas Carol ensures bad karma in spades.
