If Blockbusters Had a Body Count, Eiza González Would Be the Last Woman Standing

If Blockbusters Had a Body Count, Eiza González Would Be the Last Woman Standing

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Eiza González didn’t wait her turn—she redirected the spotlight. While Hollywood obsessed over franchises and familiar faces, she built a career off being underestimated. From Mexican telenovelas to explosive action flicks and a streaming era treasure hunt in Fountain of Youth, she’s turned typecasting into target practice. This isn’t a biography—it’s a dissection. Who is Eiza González? Try: the actress who's mastered the art of being unpredictable, profitable, and always two moves ahead of whatever label you’re about to give her.

Who is Eiza González, really? The sharp rise of Hollywood’s stealth star

Before the blockbuster glow-up, she was Mexico’s favorite teen rebel on Lola, érase una vez

At 16, while most teens were experimenting with eyeliner or regrettable band tees, Eiza González was anchoring one of Televisa’s most-watched youth series, Lola, érase una vez. The show wasn’t high art, but it was the kind of candy-colored soap opera that gave millions of Latin American teens their first TV crush and helped Eiza lock down her status as a full-blown telenovela celebrity.

She played Lola with enough sass and high-octane angst to power a small city. Somewhere between bubblegum pop ballads and teen heartbreak, she became Mexico’s answer to Hilary Duff—except louder, flashier, and with a stronger chest voice. The pink hair wasn’t just styling; it was branding. It was also the launchpad for what would eventually become Eiza González’s music career. Like many young stars minted by Televisa, she got a record deal as part of the package. She didn’t just act—she sang. And screamed. Often in key.

Her pop-star era was short-lived—but it taught her how to work a spotlight

By 2009, Eiza had released her debut album, the kind of pop-rock confection you’d expect from a star in a teen novela. It wasn’t groundbreaking, but it did what it needed to: kept her name in rotation, proved she could fill stadiums, and padded her résumé with “singer” before she even had a driver’s license.

But unlike other Televisa exports who clung to the pop-princess act well into their thirties, Eiza bailed. Fast. She saw the glass ceiling—and the matching glitter heels—and opted out before it turned into a career cul-de-sac. The real story of Eiza González’s early life isn’t about chart positions or melodramatic plotlines. It’s about a teenager who understood that being a Mexican actress meant having to outmaneuver the industry before it boxed her in.

Televisa to Tinseltown: How Eiza González hacked the Hollywood algorithm without a famous surname

No “next Salma Hayek” clichés here—Eiza carved her own, messier path

Eiza González is not someone who coasted on charm or waited for luck to show up with a business card. Her jump from Mexican TV to Hollywood film roles was calculated, awkward, and often uphill. There was no Marvel entry point. No secret backer. Just years of uncomfortable auditions, accents to neutralize, and the vague, persistent feedback that she was “too Latina” until the role called for someone “ethnically ambiguous.”

Her early L.A. years weren’t glamorous. She was told to change her name, fix her teeth, soften her look, lighten her voice. She didn’t. Instead, she played the game well enough to land supporting roles in English-language projects, including Robert Rodriguez’s From Dusk Till Dawn, where she took on the role that Salma Hayek made iconic and turned it into something entirely her own. That was the first hint that this wasn’t just another crossover attempt. Eiza didn’t just want in—she wanted range, leverage, and something dangerously close to control.

She didn’t wait for Hollywood to offer her a seat—she learned how to crack the damn casting formula

While many Mexican actresses get stuck playing maids or cartel wives in American films, Eiza took the blueprint and burned it. Her roles in films like Baby Driver weren’t massive in screen time, but they were memorable—and strategic. They positioned her not as a novelty, but as someone who could hold her own in stylish, tightly edited action sequences.

Her publicists weren’t trying to build a fanbase based on relatability. They built mystique. One day she’s on the red carpet with a new hair color. The next, she’s landing a Netflix contract or sparking headlines in a Guy Ritchie film. Eiza González in Hollywood didn’t happen by accident. It was the result of relentless repositioning—and, let’s be honest, good taste in scripts that allowed her to punch up rather than blend in.

Eiza’s time at drama school wasn’t just for show—it was the rebrand before the breakout

Telenovela training is great for melodrama—not so great for subtlety

When Eiza González enrolled at the Lee Strasberg Theatre and Film Institute, it wasn’t a vanity move. She’d already starred in a prime-time telenovela. She didn’t need another certificate. What she needed was a total unlearning of her previous on-screen muscle memory—less “screaming into the void” acting, more “internalized tension” method. She wanted to build a version of herself that could play in international markets without being typecast or, worse, dubbed over.

The Lee Strasberg Institute wasn’t there to transform her into Meryl Streep. It was there to sand down the excess, sharpen the instincts, and give her the tools to survive in scenes that didn’t end with swelling music and a slap. It worked. She started auditioning with a grounded presence that casting directors hadn’t seen from her before. She learned how to let a scene breathe without stealing oxygen. It was the first time she stopped performing and started inhabiting characters.

Training gave her what Hollywood respects most: plausible deniability and technical chops

Hollywood loves a narrative of transformation, especially one that includes “serious training.” With Lee Strasberg on her résumé, Eiza could finally be marketed as a serious actress instead of “that girl from Lola.” It allowed her to pivot away from the very fame that launched her career. She didn’t erase her past, but she made it irrelevant to where she was going next.

And here’s the kicker: she’s never gone back. No “return to roots,” no nostalgia tour, no last-ditch reality show. That’s because the Eiza González biography that Hollywood reads now starts at Baby Driver. Everything before it is just fine print she no longer has to explain.

The action star you didn’t see coming: Eiza’s unapologetic domination of high-octane cinema

From Baby Driver to Ambulance—her action roles are more than just pretty explosions

In Baby Driver, Eiza González wasn’t the lead, but she was magnetic enough to make you wonder why she wasn’t. As Darling, she played one half of a psychotic love story—equal parts Bonnie Parker and nightclub menace. Between gunfire and slow-motion struts, she managed to squeeze something like pathos into a character that could’ve been all surface. She didn’t just look dangerous. She made danger look casual.

That role didn’t land her a trophy, but it placed her squarely in Hollywood’s unofficial casting file labeled “Can Handle Herself Around Firearms and A-Listers.” It wasn’t subtle. That was the point. She looked like a music video, talked like she’d memorized Tarantino dialogue on a dare, and brought a visual rhythm that didn’t need narrative depth to leave an imprint. That’s not a criticism—it’s a strategy.

Ambulance let her command chaos in a genre that usually sidelines women as liabilities

Fast forward to Ambulance, where she plays Cam, a paramedic caught in a Michael Bay fever dream of helicopters, bank robbers, and physics-defying car chases. In a film where logic goes to die, Eiza González holds the only position that requires actual competence—and, more miraculously, plays it straight.

Here’s what mattered: she didn’t scream, she didn’t seduce her way out of problems, and she didn’t faint at the sight of blood. She stayed focused, handled trauma, and gave Bay’s boom-fest a center of gravity it absolutely didn’t deserve. When people talk about Eiza González’s best action movies, Ambulance doesn’t win on script or structure—but it does spotlight what happens when she’s trusted to lead rather than accessorize the testosterone.

She’s not just a fixture in the Eiza González filmography—she’s its spine in the action genre. That’s why directors keep calling. And why she keeps showing up with something sharp beneath the glam.

In Alita: Battle Angel, Eiza played second fiddle—but learned how to stage-steal

She wasn’t the hero—but her screen presence kept punching above her billing

In Alita: Battle Angel, Eiza González plays Nyssiana, a cyborg assassin with blades for limbs and a killer’s instinct. The role clocks in at maybe five minutes of screen time, tops. But those five minutes? They’re memorable. Visually aggressive, physically choreographed, and soaked in high-stakes sci-fi flair. You’re not supposed to walk away remembering the side villain. Yet here we are.

This is the thing about her so-called “supporting roles in sci-fi films”: she doesn’t disappear into them. She doesn’t deliver monologues about space-time or the human condition. She slices her way through the plot, says very little, and leaves the camera mildly obsessed. It’s not depth—it’s precision. A reminder that not every performance needs an emotional arc when the aesthetic impact does the heavy lifting.

Alita wasn’t about screen time—it was about future-proofing her genre versatility

While the leads in Alita were tasked with carrying the story’s emotional weight, Eiza was there to expand her CV and plant a flag in the CGI-heavy territory that most actors need green screen training wheels for. This wasn’t a fluke. It was a calculated entry into the genre most actresses get locked out of unless they’re wearing capes.

For Eiza González, sci-fi isn’t just an aesthetic flex. It’s professional insurance. She’s shown she can be menacing, fight-ready, and stylized into oblivion—all without breaking the plot or the illusion. That’s the kind of quiet value that producers love and critics underestimate.

3 Body Problem proves she can do brainy sci-fi, even when the plot gets math-y

The genre’s saturated with exposition dumps—she chooses stillness over overacting

In 3 Body Problem, Eiza González enters a cerebral, complex world where theoretical physics collides with existential dread. No car chases. No laser-drenched monologues. Just a lot of tension, ambiguity, and very smart people looking very stressed about particle behavior. It’s not the most forgiving sandbox for actors who rely on theatrics. So she doesn’t.

Her character doesn’t shout. She doesn’t unravel. She listens, reacts, and makes you read her choices through micro-expressions, not overwritten dialogue. This is a different kind of flex—one that requires restraint, not flair. It’s the kind of subtle work that rarely gets applause on social media, but quietly earns her credibility where it counts.

Netflix didn’t just cast her for clout—she fits the tone, not just the press release

With Eiza González’s previous action-heavy roles, you might expect her to be dropped in as a glam distraction. But Netflix didn’t use her that way in 3 Body Problem. She’s integrated into the story’s cold logic and moral ambiguity without becoming an exposition tool or romantic detour. That alone sets her apart from 90% of women in science fiction.

For once, her performance isn’t trying to “balance out” the plot’s chaos with emotional shorthand. She exists inside the tension without deflating it. That’s not just good casting. That’s recognition. And it signals a quiet but meaningful shift: Eiza González isn’t just getting parts. She’s being trusted with tone.

And in this genre, that’s harder to fake than a good punch.

Fountain of Youth may be a hot mess, but she walks away with the last laugh

She plays Esme, the sultry art thief with an agenda and the best one-liners in the movie

In Fountain of Youth, Eiza González plays Esme, a slinky, sharp-edged art thief who enters every scene like she already knows the punchline. The movie itself? A chaotic blend of National Treasure knockoff and airport thriller that somehow landed on Apple TV instead of straight to plane seat screens. The Fountain of Youth cast is stacked—John Krasinski, Natalie Portman, Stanley Tucci (blink and you’ll miss him). But it’s Eiza González’s character Esme who steals more than just paintings.

Esme isn’t just there to look good in a catsuit and flirt mid-heist—though she does both, with Olympic precision. She’s written like a trope, but played with just enough self-awareness to make it subversive. She doesn’t wink at the camera, but you get the sense she wants to. Her lines are zingers, her timing surgical, and her hair immune to humidity and gunfire. Critics may have written off Fountain of Youth as Ritchie-lite—too much noise, not enough nuance—but Eiza González walks away clean, heels intact, dignity unscathed.

Her screen time might be limited, but her impact isn’t

Despite being a secondary character, Esme comes off like the lead of another, better movie. One where she’s not stuck chasing after a Greco painting while dodging lines like “We had great adventures, remember?” delivered with the emotional force of a toothpaste commercial. She moves through the film like someone who read the script, laughed, then decided to bring her own.

In the wider context of Eiza González’s movies, Esme may not be the most challenging role, but it’s a reminder of what she can do when handed a flat character and a blunt script: she carves depth into it, then sets it on fire. Her performance adds a much-needed layer of glossed-over grit to a movie that’s otherwise playing dress-up with relics from better franchises.

 

 
 
 
 
 
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The chemistry was fine, but did anyone else notice she carried the entire subplot solo?

Eiza had more tension with the camera than the protagonists had with each other

Let’s address the so-called “dynamic” between Natalie Portman and John Krasinski—a mix of sibling sniping and emotional exposition that never quite gets off the ground. The problem isn’t effort. It’s chemistry. Or rather, the absence of it. What you do notice, however, is Eiza González’s performance humming in the background, creating tension with a raised eyebrow while the leads deliver dialogue that feels like it was written in a group chat.

While the film tries hard to sell you on the family drama, it’s the Esme arc that flirts with actual stakes. There’s a reason you find yourself more invested in what she’s doing in the shadows than in whatever flashback-induced crisis Krasinski is brooding over. When people wonder was Eiza González underused in Fountain of Youth, the answer is a definitive yes—but only if you assume her job was to support the main story, rather than hijack it with minimal effort.

She built her own character arc out of scraps—and it still made more sense than the plot

Let’s be real: Esme is underwritten. She gets the usual thief-with-a-heart-of-gold routine, a flirtation subplot that fizzles out faster than the CGI budget, and then vanishes for long stretches. And yet? You still care more about her than about whether the Fountain’s magical properties are real or just a MacGuffin with hydration perks.

It’s not just about Eiza González having more charisma than the script deserves. It’s about her ability to create an emotional throughline when the actual writing can’t be bothered. There’s implied rivalry, backstory, purpose—none of it on the page, all of it in the performance. She turns filler into tension. That’s not “making the best of it.” That’s editing the movie from inside the scene.

Critics called the movie “Velveeta on Wonder Bread,” but González turned junk script into pop art

She didn’t fight the trope—she played it with fangs and a smirk

The reviews for Fountain of Youth didn’t hold back. One critic compared it to a processed snack—no substance, lots of chemicals, and vaguely addictive. And yet, Eiza González managed to alchemize her limited role into something closer to pop art. Not highbrow, not profound—but sharply composed, knowingly artificial, and visually on-point.

She understood exactly what kind of movie this was and didn’t try to “elevate” it with method acting or overwrought sincerity. Instead, she leaned into the absurdity with confidence. She hit her marks, delivered the lines like she was reading a fashion editorial, and gave the illusion of control in a script that spun out of it halfway through the second act.

While others were lost in exposition or trying to explain why there were Interpol agents in a pyramid, Eiza González chose a different route: make the camera fall in love, then exit before the third act ruins the vibe.

Behind the scenes, her performance signals a shift in what audiences expect from “the hot one”

What’s significant isn’t just what she did on screen—it’s what her casting says about how these films are evolving. Traditionally, women in movies like this are either plot devices, comic relief, or walking rewards for the hero. But Fountain of Youth, for all its clumsiness, lets Eiza González play someone who exists independently of the protagonist’s journey.

Yes, the film still leans on tropes. No, it doesn’t pass any advanced feminism tests. But it does give her space to redefine what that “sultry side character” can be. Not a liability. Not a rescue target. Not the person who cries while the men chase treasure. She’s her own agent, even if the plot forgets it sometimes.

And if you dig into the critical reception of Fountain of Youth and Eiza González’s performance, that’s what stands out: even when the movie drops the ball, she never does. That’s not luck. That’s design.

All eyes on her: Eiza González’s dating life, social media, and PR rollercoaster

Her exes include Jason Momoa and lacrosse millionaire Paul Rabil—and the tabloids won’t let it go

Search for Eiza González, and the autofill doesn’t suggest her movies or red carpet looks—it offers up Eiza González boyfriend 2025 like we’re all just here for an episodic romance update. The fixation isn’t accidental. Her dating history, real or rumored, has consistently overshadowed actual work she’s doing on set.

Whether she’s spotted with Jason Momoa on a casual ride around L.A. or linked to Paul Rabil, whose lacrosse fame seems to mystify everyone outside of East Coast prep schools, it becomes instant tabloid oxygen. And sure, González has dated some high-profile men. But the coverage rarely reads as mutual fascination—it’s more like an audit. As if her personal life were a credit score we’re entitled to check monthly.

There’s a difference between public interest and media obsession—and Eiza’s tired of pretending otherwise

Eiza has never been coy about the double standard. Her male co-stars are allowed to be mysterious, private, or even erratic. She posts one blurry dinner photo and it turns into an engagement prediction. And when her relationships end—as they do for most functioning adults—it’s spun into a rejection arc she never signed off on.

This pattern isn’t about celebrity culture anymore; it’s gendered branding. Her recent relationships become headline bait, while her actual work is often treated like an accessory to whatever man she was photographed beside. It’s tedious, strategic, and deeply profitable—for everyone except her.

Eiza González is active on Instagram, but don’t expect a TikTok dance—she curates, not caters

She uses Instagram like a visual press kit, not a confessional diary

Scroll through Eiza González’s Instagram and you won’t find her ranting in Stories or oversharing about her breakfast. What you get instead is a high-gloss mix of red carpet photos, editorial shoots, and very controlled glimpses of her off-duty life. She’s not here to follow the influencer playbook. She’s here to manage perception—and she’s good at it.

Her social media presence is part fashion magazine, part PR buffer. It’s calculated but not cold. There’s an intelligence to how she presents herself, and more importantly, how she doesn’t. This isn’t someone begging for followers—this is someone reminding you she’s always two posts ahead of the next headline.

She doesn’t play the social media game by the rules—and still wins it

Despite being active on multiple platforms, Eiza has largely sidestepped the exhausting performativity that defines celebrity presence online. She’s not launching skincare lines via TikTok, nor is she pandering to algorithms with dance trends. She posts what she wants, when it fits, and the engagement still rolls in.

Her photos go viral without thirst traps. Her social media doesn’t pander, it publishes. That distinction may seem minor, but it’s why she stands out. In an industry where many celebrities either overshare or overfilter, Eiza González opts for control—and that’s more powerful than any PR team could dream of. This is how she’s rewritten the rules of how Eiza González manages her public image on social media: less reactive, more editorial, always on her terms.

Racism accusations put her on the defensive—her response was swift, but the discourse lingered

When old photos surfaced, the public wanted an apology—she gave them a statement

In 2020, Eiza González found herself at the center of controversy when images of her wearing blackface in a past telenovela resurfaced. The photos weren’t new, but the context was—coming at a time of global racial reckoning, when silence felt complicit. She issued a statement almost immediately, acknowledging the offense, expressing regret, and noting that the performance was scripted and dated.

The apology wasn’t theatrical. It was brisk, formal, and deliberately un-flashy. Some saw it as evasive. Others considered it a responsible response from someone who’d grown since the incident. Either way, it was clear that Eiza González’s statement wasn’t designed to earn back followers—it was designed to stop the bleeding.

The fallout exposed deeper issues around race, privilege, and performative allyship in Hollywood

The real story wasn’t just about the photos—it was about what they represented. Eiza González’s racism accusations opened up a bigger, more uncomfortable conversation about whiteness in Latin American entertainment and how light-skinned Latina actresses navigate racial dynamics in the U.S. film industry.

Some critics questioned whether she’d done enough. Others pointed out that Eiza González’s response had more substance than many of her American peers’ vague solidarity posts. But the scrutiny didn’t fade quickly. It lingered, not because the audience was unforgiving, but because Hollywood rarely knows what accountability is supposed to look like when it’s not staged.

The public fallout wasn’t just reputational—it was reputational currency. It reminded everyone, including her, that fame now comes with forensic analysis. Every post, every role, every silence is a referendum. And Eiza, whether she likes it or not, is fluent in that language now.

Fame, fortune, and everything filtered: dissecting the Eiza González lifestyle brand

Fitness isn’t just a hashtag for her—it’s a way to outwork the stereotype

While most celebrities slap “wellness” on a caption and call it a day, Eiza González actually sweats for her screen time. Her fitness routine isn’t a casual spin class—it’s strength training, resistance work, and early-morning commitment in designer sneakers. The payoff? A body sculpted enough to make stylists cry tears of joy and action directors dial her number before they’ve even cast the male lead.

It’s not about vanity; it’s about control. In an industry that still typecasts women based on body type, Eiza González doesn’t just show up fit—she shows up prepared. Her workout isn’t a supporting detail. It’s part of the performance. Every stunt, every red carpet moment, every camera angle depends on physical readiness. And no, you don’t get Eiza González’s body from wishful thinking and a juice cleanse.

Her discipline goes beyond the gym—it shapes her public identity

Being camera-ready 365 days a year isn’t a flex. It’s a strategy. Eiza’s healthy lifestyle isn’t just about looking good—it’s about staying competitive in a market that forgets actresses over 30 unless they’re superheroes or Oscar winners. She knows the math: men get to age into gravitas. Women have to maintain form like it’s an unpaid internship.

Her approach to health is calculated. The Eiza González diet and workout secrets aren’t locked behind a $200 subscription—because the real secret is consistency. Pilates one day, cardio the next, and a PR campaign that never lets you forget she earned it. She’s not selling you a lifestyle. She’s protecting her own.

Fashion week front rows, Met Gala appearances, and a closet that screams Versace-tinged revenge

Eiza doesn’t wear fashion—she weaponizes it

There are celebrities who attend Fashion Week, and then there’s Eiza González—a regular fixture who doesn’t just show up but owns her space like it’s a runway she personally designed. Her fashion choices aren’t safe, seasonal, or approval-seeking. They’re deliberate visual statements that say, “I see your minimalism and raise you latex and architectural tulle.”

From Paris to Milan to Met Gala carpets, she consistently lands in the “Best Dressed” conversations without ever looking like she’s trying to. There’s calculation in the chaos: designers know she’ll wear their work like armor, not just cloth. Eiza González’s red carpet appearances are less about trend-chasing and more about image-building. She doesn’t show up to blend in—she shows up to be remembered.

Fashion photography isn’t just aesthetics—it’s cultural control

The pictures that flood her feed and fan accounts aren’t throwaways. They’re composed, filtered, and ruthlessly edited to reinforce a personal brand that blends glamor, danger, and a whisper of unreachability. She dresses for the narrative, not the season. One day it’s “future Bond villain,” the next it’s “goddess of something expensive.”

These aren’t just looks—they’re curated ideas of power. The best fashion moments in her career don’t hinge on what she’s wearing—they hinge on how she wears it. There’s a kind of smirk that accompanies her styling, as if to say, “I know you’re watching, and yes, this was intentional.” Spoiler: it always is.

Eiza González’s Net worth estimates range wildly—but the real asset is her staying power

She’s not just earning checks—she’s building a portfolio

Depending on the source, Eiza González’s net worth hovers somewhere between $5 million and $15 million. That range says more about guesswork than her actual finances—but it’s clear she’s positioned herself as more than just a working actress. Film salaries, endorsement deals, and international campaigns stack up quietly while she keeps a low profile about numbers.

What we do know: her earnings are coming from multiple streams. From Netflix roles to Apple TV releases, fragrance campaigns to luxury fashion partnerships, Eiza González’s income structure looks more like a tech founder’s than a traditional performer’s. She doesn’t wait for studios to offer her a raise—she diversifies.

Fame fades—brands endure

What sets her apart isn’t just what she earns. It’s how she reinvests. Her brand isn’t just about visibility; it’s about control. She’s one of the few women in her demographic pulling off the pivot from celebrity to business asset without launching a tequila line or a lifestyle app.

That’s why the 2025 net worth projections are only part of the story. The real win is how she’s architected her relevance. She’s proof that the Hollywood system doesn’t just reward talent—it rewards strategy. And Eiza González knows exactly which game she’s playing.

What’s next for Eiza González? The actor, the brand, the disruptor

In the Grey: Eiza González steps into the shadows with Guy Ritchie

Eiza González reunites with director Guy Ritchie in the upcoming action thriller In the Grey, starring alongside Henry Cavill, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Rosamund Pike. The film follows two extraction specialists tasked with planning an escape route for a female negotiator. While initially slated for a January 17, 2025 release, the film was pulled from the schedule in November 2024 due to unfinished post-production. A new release date has yet to be announced. 

I Love Boosters: A sci-fi heist with a satirical edge

In I Love Boosters, González joins an ensemble cast including Keke Palmer, Demi Moore, and LaKeith Stanfield in a sci-fi comedy directed by Boots Riley. The film centers on a group of shoplifters targeting a ruthless fashion mogul. Production began in November 2024, with a release anticipated in late 2025 or early 2026. 

She’s not just acting anymore—she’s executive producing and eyeing more control

González is expanding her role in the industry by stepping into executive production. In the psychological sci-fi thriller Ash, she stars alongside Aaron Paul under the direction of Flying Lotus. The film, which premiered at SXSW 2025, showcases González’s commitment to taking on more control behind the scenes. 

Is this the year she finally gets the critical recognition she deserves?

Despite a growing filmography, González has yet to secure major award nominations. Her recent performances, particularly in 3 Body Problem, have garnered attention, but she was not among the nominees at the 2025 Golden Globe Awards. With upcoming roles in In the Grey and I Love Boosters, both of which offer substantial character depth, 2025 could be the year González earns the critical acclaim that has so far eluded her

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