Barbie‘s Playful Complexity Does It All, and Does It Well

To many, the portmanteau “Barbenheimer” is simply a fun meme the internet created to commemorate the same-day release of two widely contrasting summer blockbusters. Under more careful consideration, however, the manufactured rivalry between Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer—characterized by an acute emphasis on aesthetics, stereotypical gender expectations and Nolan’s very public disagreement with Barbie distributor Warner Bros.—spotlights deeper rooted issues surrounding corporate greed and the constant push and pull for power between the “feminine” and “masculine.” These stimulating reflections on our current cultural state, made evident through the Barbenheimer phenomenon, also exist at the heart of Gerwig’s sparkly new film. Bursting with big ideas on the complexities surrounding womanhood, patriarchy and the legacy of its eponymous subject, Barbie scores a hat trick for its magnificent balance of comedy, emotional intelligence and cultural relevance.
The picture begins with a playful homage to 2001: A Space Odyssey’s Dawn of Man sequence. Except, in Gerwig’s prelude, the apes are young girls and the wondrous discovery they make is not a monolith, but a 100-foot tall bathing-suit-wearing Barbie (Margot Robbie), who is there to put an end to Planet Earth’s sexism with her mere aspirationalism. The humorous scene is accompanied by narration from Helen Mirren, who acts as our guide into the dazzling world of Barbie Land.
Barbie Land, as its name suggests, is an ultra-dreamy, ultra-pink universe where Barbies of all shapes, sizes and professions live together in perfect harmony. Here, Barbies are the doctors, construction workers, astronauts and political leaders of their peers. In addition to their extremely fulfilling careers, Barbies spend their days cruising in pastel convertible cars and enjoying elaborately choreographed dance parties with their Ken friends—how else would one spend eternity in a universe with no misogyny, sorrow or bodily fluids? Life is idyllic until Robbie’s Barbie, who refers to herself as Stereotypical Barbie, begins to experience an unprecedented existential crisis. These uncharacteristic anxieties, coupled with the fact that her once-permanently-tippy-toed feet have fallen flat, lead Barbie on a quest to the Real World in hopes of returning back to her normal, carefree self. When her adoring Ken (Ryan Gosling) joins her in her cross-realm voyage, ideologies are swapped, havoc is wreaked and major changes are brought upon Barbie Land.
One of the most significant, and unfortunate, discoveries Barbie makes in her jump from Barbie Land to the Real World is the hideousness of being catcalled by strangers in public. While roller skating down Venice Beach with Ken, Barbie is subjected to crude, unsolicited verbal harassment by just about every man she passes. In a matter of moments, the confident and self-assured leader we met at the start of the film begins to shrink into herself. In this sequence, Barbie is so naïve and inexperienced that she doesn’t even possess the vocabulary to express her discomfort or name her newfound self-consciousness. Instead, she directs the negative emotions inwards and internalizes them as shame.
It’s a classic tale about growing up and getting crushed by society’s cruelty that proves to be endlessly relevant when portrayed through a female protagonist. We see Barbie’s journey across worlds become an allegory for our all-too-sudden shift from girlhood and adolescence to womanhood—a transition that is sometimes forced upon us prematurely by unwanted male attention or advances. Barbie, at least in this moment, is childhood, innocence, naivete—and her subjection to misogyny stings.