Fans were shocked to see Chris Pine switch up his clean-cut look for a shaggy beard and long hair, a huge change for the actor who played the sexy Starfleet captain on Star Trek.
Refined yet rugged, the DC Comics star is giving off Big Lebowski vibes, and fans are saying the 43-year-old heartthrob looks “raggedy” and unrecognizable.
Keep reading to learn what people are saying about Pine!
When Chris Pine was 29, he played James T. Kirk in the 2009 Star Trek reboot, the popular sci-fi franchise that gained a whole new following of fans who were excited to see his face on the big screen.
Over the past 15 years, the effortlessly handsome star has maintained a clean-shaven, well-coiffed look, nailing every outfit that drapes his toned body.
But now, the 43-year-old star – the son of Robert Pine who starred as Sgt. Joseph Getraer on CHiPs (1977 to 1983) – seems to be embracing a chic but hippy-ish style with a shaggy beard, salt and pepper hair and killer tan.
Rugged and shabby
Ditching his typical preppy look, Pines experienced a physical transformation so intense that many fans didn’t recognize him.
The rugged and shabby look came while he was preparing for his role Poolman, a 2023 box office bomb that he starred, co-wrote, produced and directed.
Embracing his character in the film, Pine fully embodied Darren Barrenman, a “hapless dreamer and would-be philosopher who spends his days looking after the pool of the Tahitian Tiki apartment block in sunny Los Angeles.”
He appeared at the opening of the film with his bushy gray beard and his long blonde hair with gray roots loosely resting over the shoulders of a sand-colored blazer. He added to his outfit a pair of dark gray shorts and a t-shirt that reads, “I [heart] LA.”
Sharing a clip on X that shows Pine at the opening, E! News writes, “[Chris Pine] is just in a silly goofy mood.”
‘Homeless’
Before the opening of Poolman, released in May 2024, fans were shocked to see the heartthrob walking around Los Angeles with wavy salt-and-pepper hair and an untamed beard.
His bright blue eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses and his white tank top showed his toned arms, one hand clutching a mask.
“Looks 55 and homeless! Great character actor!!” writes one fan of the Wonder Woman star becoming his character.
Expressing their genuine concern, a handful of fans wondered if Pine was facing some hard times.
“… he could fit in with the homeless people on the streets there. I guess times are tough for everyone,” said one, while a second adds, “He’s going for the homeless look. Someone toss him a bar of soap, he likely needs a scrubbing.”
A third offers, “He was one nice looking guy, I wonder what happened?”
Then there were the fans who had a hard time recognizing Pine’s chiseled face under the grizzled beard.
“Almost don’t recognize him now. Sad!” says one user, while another writes, “I’m impressed anyone recognized him. He looks raggedy.”
Comparing the star to Jeff Bridges as the eccentric slacker in The Big Lebowski, a third shares: “If they ever remake The Big Lebowski, we know who to get to play The Dude!”
‘Chris Pine is a king’
Meanwhile, throngs of fans loved Pine’s new look and gushed over the actor who played the handsome Lord Deveraux in the Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement.
“Yet still fine as f***,” remarks one cyber fan, while a second says, “Still looks great.”
A third writes, “He was a prince. Chris Pine is a king now!”
Offering an explanation to his rough new look, another netizen adds, “Kids, this is what we old folks called ‘getting old.’” The user continues, “Nobody (except maybe Tom Cruise) stays looking the same as we age and get older. You’re welcome.”
My husband created a new schedule to ‘improve my role as a wife’ — I taught him a lesson in return
I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along.Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
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