The Gorgeous Postmodern Mastery of Barbie

(Note: I fully support both the SAG-AFTRA and WGA strikes and hope that the AMPTP wakes up and realizes that the only path forward is an equitable one. Films like Barbie would not exist without the work of the writers and the actors. This essay is not promotional or on behalf of the studio; it is fully personal in nature.)

As of this writing I have seen Barbie 8 times so yes, it's safe to say I adore the film. I love seeing films multiple times for myriad reasons -  noticing new things, picking different elements to pay attention to, admiring specific crafts - and also because, quite simply, when I find something that brings me immense joy, it is my natural instinct to embrace it wholeheartedly. Particularly during a time when I have been struggling a bit, having the comfort of repeat viewings of a film I love has been my salve this summer. Barbie is quickly climbing the list of films I have seen the most times in theaters (11 is my peak, all the way back in 2004) and the simplest reason why, the contextual distillation, is that it brings me immense joy. But there's far more at play than just the gorgeous practical sets and effects, the fabulous use of colors, the sharp self-aware humor, the performances, and the musical numbers (!). As if that wouldn't already be enough? Dayenu! This is a film rich with theme and feeling, and one that has had me evaluating and contemplating societal standards and expectations, the nature of my own identity and the identities people ascribe to themselves, the way humans treat other people, gender roles, and the disappointing fact that more movies don't have their actors break into song. It has left a profound emotional impact on my soul, a fact that I'm still reckoning with considering this is a film based on a children's doll. 

Greta Gerwig's film (co-written with her longtime partner Noah Baumbach) has been the cultural moment of 2023 thus far. It is loved by both critics and audiences, its' massive financial success has shown incredible legs and staying power, and it even has a lot of right wing extremists very mad! That's the trifecta right there. More importantly, it is the type of movie I often dream of but rarely get. It hits the perfect fulcrum point between joyous entertainment and thoughtful filmmaking. It proves that yes, films can and should be designed by and for women and that high budget, populist films don't have to sacrifice on intelligence in order to appease the masses. 

As a final note, I'd recommend not reading the rest unless you have seen the film. This will be filled with spoilers and I don't want to ruin your viewing experience! 

Let's dive in. 

 - Equality (Feminism, The Patriarchy, It's Barbie AND It's Ken) -

Gerwig and Baumbach's clever construction of the film posits that there are two different worlds, BarbieLand and the Real World. Is BarbieLand, with its gorgeous, pink hued, plasticy practical sets (designed by Sarah Greenwood) an alternate reality or simply a magical manifestation our imagination? Yes. In BarbieLand, the Barbies - and there are many of them! From our hero Stereotypical Barbie* (Margot Robbie, in a rich, dynamic, instantly iconic stunning star performance) to Physicist Barbie to President Barbie to Doctor Barbie to Nobel Prize Winning Barbies to Weird Barbie - are in all positions of power, with each of them having their own Dream House and the Kens existing essentially to serve the Barbies and their whims. The Kens are all but irrelevant, as Barbie herself admits later in the film. The film's wry narrator, Helen Mirren, tells us that the Barbies believe that because of their existence as toys in the Real World, they have solved all problems of feminism. (They haven't.) They operate BarbieLand as a fun and productive place where the dreams and desires of all Barbies are valued... and they don't even know where the Kens sleep. 

(*From here on out, if I am referring to a singular Barbie or Ken in the film, it is the characters portrayed by Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling)

The problem with this reveals itself later in the film, but only after Ken (Ryan Gosling, in an all-time great comedic performance, perfectly balanced with emotion and nuance) returns from the real world and infects BarbieLand with patriarchy. He creates it in the most stereotypically bro masculine way possible, rife with horses and jeeps and mini fridges and brewski beers. The Barbie Dream Houses are now Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House. Say it out loud. It's fun! This is a reflection of both Ken's perception of the Real World and his brief reading in books such as Men Rule the World. For Ken, after spending his entire life feeling like a second class citizen, it makes perfect sense to try and flip the script dramatically and give the Barbies a dose of their own medicine. The Barbies become subservient to the men, existing to only cater to their fantasies as the Kens mold what was one a mecca for the Barbies in their own hypermasculine image. 

We begin to see what Gerwig and Baumbach have on their mind. I think there is often a fundamental misunderstanding as to what exactly feminism is. At its core, feminism does advocate for women's rights but it is based entirely on the ideal of equality of the sexes. One doesn't need to look too hard to see that for the vast majority of time, women have not been treated equally to men, have not been afforded equal rights, could not vote, could not have a credit card, were not given any sort of autonomy by a male dominated society. Feminism is not the notion that women are better or deserve more than men, as some of this film's more vocal, unhinged detractors have said. This film makes the cogent and apt argument that feminism exists to bring forth an equal balance of power between the sexes. If that is shaped by a focus on the rights of women, it is only because society has been shaped for generations by a focus on men. Or: patriarchy. 

One of the running jokes in the film is Ken's obsession with patriarchy and how every action he engages in during the majority of the 3rd act of the film is influenced by that age-old mantra that suggests that society is dominated by men, that men have the power, and that women are essentially excluded from the conversation. One of the film's most amusing scenes has Ken discovering the ways in which men rule society. We see a montage showing past Presidents, bros working out, mini fridges, golf, Sly Stallone. We laugh because we recognize the accuracy - and absurdity - of this montage. Not only has the existence of Barbie dolls not solved all problems of feminism in the real world**, they are simply another blip in a male dominated society. While I think it's fair to say that in recent years there has been a societal reckoning regarding these gender roles and the power men have and assert (or force) over women, there is still a long, long way to go. 

(**The film also gets to comment on the way our actual real world often feels about Barbie dolls and how some view their stereotypical mold as bad for body image, bad for feminism, and bad for women in general. Barbie gets told this to her face by a character in the film ("You fascist!" yells Ariana Greenblatt's character Sasha) and although there are some jokes and elements that might make you stop and wonder how Mattel let this film exist in this form, they get to have fun at their own expense while working to rehabilitate the image of Barbies in general. It's a win-win for them. There is a lot going on here.) 

Radical right wing pundits such as Ben Shapiro and Piers Morgan have flapped their mouths with great vitriol, arguing that this movie is offensive towards men and paints them as stereotypical, one-note villains that only exist to make Barbie (and women) look better. Even if this were true (it's not) it amuses me because part of their argument is, "how do you think women would feel if they watched films wherein women were portrayed in such a way?" My guys, pick any random film from the last 100 years and the odds are pretty good that women will be portrayed in exactly such a way. Although of course not exclusively, women are so often thinly drawn, overly sexualized pawns in films designed by and for Men. Guys like Ben and Piers are so close to cracking something spot on about the way media can portray certain groups and yet they just keep missing the point, content to play the victim, willfully misinterpreting this film to suit their laughable anti-Barbie agenda. When will men ever get their day in the sun?!

Amidst the Kens' takeover of BarbieLand, America Ferrera's character Gloria has an incredible monologue about all of the many struggles that come alongside being a woman in modern society. It is beautifully performed and rings so true to anyone who can stop, listen, and actually reflect. She ends the speech by noting that "if all of this is true for a doll just representing women, then I don't even know." She doesn't even know. It is a sobering and painfully genuine thought. 

Life is too often made of binaries. Black or white. This or that. Horrible or amazing. Men or women. This is the paradigm that forms between the Barbies and the Kens. This is the paradigm that has formed in some of the conversation surrounding this film. It is fascinating how life can sometimes imitate art, or vice versa. CNN even reports that Barbie has "become a litmus test for relationships." But here's the thing! Here's the magic. As Greta begins to pull out the rug from the Kens, with the Barbies successfully carrying out a delightful "heist" that delves deep into gender roles and the way men can treat and manipulate women in relationships with incisive satire, the Barbies not only regain control over BarbieLand but they come to a better understanding of where they were wrong as well. Stereotypical Barbie herself says it best. It's not Barbie and Ken, a package deal with Ken only serving as an accessory to Barbie. He's not "Just Ken," a refrain sung in a brilliant musical number during the film's climax. She's Barbie. And he's Ken. They are each unique individuals that can and should complement and enhance each other. Men and women can lift each other up and find that seemingly unattainable ideal harmony. There's just so much standing in our way. 

It is through this point that we come to understand that this film is not a man hating screed, pushing a feminist agenda and attacking the patriarchy as a means of propping women up over men. It is deliberately calling attention to the fact that the patriarchy has had a negative affect on men as well. Society is so often dictated by these toxically masculine, patriarchal ideals that men can get caught up in it too, losing their way and their own individuality in an interest in serving what they think is required of them. They become controlling and hateful, angry and overbearing, losing any semblance of genuine kindness or empathy. The imagery that Ken sees when he's in the Real World is his Clockwork Orange manipulation moment. He is instantly galvanized by the sweet, seductive concept of patriarchy and in the process loses any sense of himself. There is an element of tragedy to the notion, particularly when one considers how often this occurs in real life . Patriarchy, this film says, is harmful for everyone. 

- The Quest for Identity -

Who am I? Who are you? Who are we? What makes us who we are? Our desire to understand our unique individual identity is as relevant and pertinent of a quest on our journey as any other. One could even argue that figuring out who we are is the key to embracing and enjoying life. But it is an incredibly difficult task, filled with road blocks and side quests, confusion and misunderstanding, and outside influences from both society and those closet to us that don't always help guide us in the right direction. 

Barbie and Ken both go on this existential journey throughout the film, and it is perhaps this element that has had the most profound lasting impact on me. I am 36 years old and still trying to figure out who I am and what exactly I'm supposed to be doing on this planet. Maybe I'm Ken? Maybe I'm Barbie? Maybe I'm... Allan? Or maybe I'm just Swell, trying my very best to make every day count and not get lost in all of the pain and anguish and confusion that so often threatens to overwhelm me. 

After the Barbies restore BarbieLand and come to a newfound understanding with the Kens, - one that will be at least slightly more equitable, allowing each individual to find their own self instead of subscribing to the societal norms and pressures put on to them by the folks at Mattel*** - Kingsley Ben Adir's Ken says, with hilarious impact and resonance, "we were only fighting because we didn't know who we were." Similarly, during the "heist" sequence, after the Barbies have successfully restored themselves and their minds back to their original "factory settings," they scheme to turn the Kens against each other, noting that "it's not just how they see us, it's how they see themselves." 

(***If you think about it, Mattel and Barbara Handler (aka The Creator of Barbie) are the God of BarbieLand, which is surreal and bizarre to think about! But here we are. Thanks Greta!) 

How do the Kens see themselves, especially now that their control has subsided? We come to understand that their patriarchal takeover is inspired almost entirely by their insecurity and their feeling of not mattering. Who among us can't relate to those feelings? Who among us hasn't tried to overthrow the government because we were sad and lonely? Folks, I jest. Ken says it himself when Barbie confronts him upon returning from the Real World. "It doesn't feel good, does it?" In this moment Ken is being vulnerable, expressing the pain he feels from being turned away by Barbie so she can go to Girls Night. Ken's entire identity is shaped by Barbie. But if Ken doesn't have Barbie, who is he? 

In the film's first of two emotional climaxes, Barbie explains to Ken (in a moment that is as eye-opening and powerful for her as it is for him, as if she's realizing the impact and veracity of what she's saying as she's saying it) that he isn't his girlfriend, he isn't his job (it's just Beach!) or his car or whatever it is that society says he should be. He's Ken, and that's Kenough. Maybe he just misses his friend Barbie. Maybe he wants to explore art or music. Maybe he wants to become a judge so he can wear robes. Maybe he's just now going to undergo an existential journey where he tries to figure out exactly who he is. 

I found that so delightfully powerful. So pure of thought, so open-hearted, so illuminating. We have the capacity to be whoever it is we want to be. Our journey is our journey and nobody else's. We aren't defined by our stuff or our attachments or our jobs. We are defined by what's on the inside and how we want to be. It is our own choice, and as the film comes to a close Ken can finally come to terms with that, even if the journey ahead is likely going to be scary for him. 

And then there's Allan. Betwixt a sea of Barbies and Kens, "there are no multiples of Allan. He's just Allan," Helen Mirren tells us. And in another delightfully self-aware moment, Allan responds to the omniscient narrator that "yeah, I'm confused about that." Beautifully played by Michael Cera with his trademark kind awkwardness, Allan has a singular, unique identity that stands out among the crowd. When the Kens take over, he is uncomfortable and lost, far more of an outsider than he was when the Barbies were in control. In fact, he helps the Barbies with their "heist," an invaluable asset to their cause. When everyone dances with perfect choreography, Allan is content to dance in his own way. There is undoubtedly a queer coding to this character, and that alone would be a lovely touch. But Allan represents so much more than that. I'm sure some (read: Ben and Piers) would be content to call Allan a Beta male, but to me he is the ideal of self-actualization. He understands exactly who he is, never feels the need to go along with the crowd or succumb to any societal pressures, and fights for what he believes in. When designed by Mattel, Allan was meant to be Ken's friend. An accessory to an accessory. He has long been forgotten by the toy makers and popular culture, and he is now, finally, having his moment in the sun. And what a moment it is. Allan belongs as much if not more than anyone else, not despite of but because of his differences. Allan is all of us. 

What about Barbie, then? "What is Barbie's ending?" What is her identity? 

- The Joy and Sadness of Humanity -

I won't bury the lede here. In the film's second emotional climax, Barbie makes the bold and unexpected choice to leave BarbieLand behind and become human. Wow. She once again finds herself face to face with Ruth Handler, creator of Barbie, in an amorphous glowing universe that I can only posit exists between worlds. The rules of this film might make no sense at all, and that is part of its magic and charm, because Greta knows this, and she leans in. Thus, the rules make perfect, flawless sense. 

Ruth (so warmly played by Rhea Perlman, serving ostensibly as the perfect Jewish grandmother) acts as Barbie's spirit guide, making sure Barbie fully understands the weight of this choice. Being human is not easy. It is filled with pain and anxiety. Sadness and death. Heartbreak and confusion. But also laughter and joy. Happiness and love. Warmth and family. The sheer act of existing as a human is a never ending roller coaster of myriad experiences and emotions, often conflicting and overlapping. It's a lot! It can be so incredibly difficult. Every day that we wake up and get out of bed, ready to face whatever the day may throw at is, is an accomplishment. I am proud of you for just... being! Truly so proud. 

When she travels to the Real World, Barbie gets her first dose of the complexities of humanity while sitting on a bench outside of a police station. At first her mind gets flooded with the beautiful and melancholy memories of Gloria (and her daughter Sasha) as we hear the first motifs of Billie Eilish's song What Was I Made For+ as weaved through Mark Ronson and Andrew Wyatt's score. Her eyes open and she begins to take in the world around her. Laughter, families playing, anguish and pain - the full gamut of human emotions exist in a small microcosm, and that's just what she can see from the bench! She looks closely at an older woman sitting near her and reflects on how beautiful she is. "I know it!" says the older woman, played by the legendary costume designer Ann Roth. This is likely the first time Barbie has ever seen an older woman. They don't age in BarbieLand. Everything is stuck in stasis. Barbie is experiencing all of this for the first time. She sheds her first ever tear. She feels. It's an overwhelming moment, so tender and cozy. It is pure Greta Gerwig. 

(+That the song used as the film's emotional crux is called What Was I Made For is no surprise considering how deep the themes of the quest for identity run throughout the film. Every choice in this film is on point and deliberate.) 

When Barbie returns to BarbieLand to find that the Kens have taken over and that everything is different, she has a full on breakdown++, sobbing and lamenting that she doesn't want anything to change. She liked things exactly as they were, and she all but shuts down, reducing into a nearly catatonic state of defiance. But you know what? Everything already has changed. Not for BarbieLand. Not for her relationship with Ken. But rather for herself and her identity. She's experienced so much in such a short time. She's had a taste of the Real World. One of the beautiful things about human emotions is how they can compliment each other. The highs often only feel so high because we have experience with the lows. Our joy can ring out boisterously and profoundly because we know what it means to be sad. You've felt it. I've felt it. We all have. That's the human condition. 

(++This leads to one of the film's very best gags, a Mattel commercial for Depression Barbie that had me screaming in a simultaneous fit of laughter and the very real experience of feeling seen. The specificity of the commercial is painfully relatable, and that's why the joke works so well.) 

Ruth takes Barbie's hands in that odd glowing room and shows her what it means to be human. Billie's gorgeous song ethereally soars over the speakers. We see a close up of Barbie's chest breathing deeply. We see a close up of her eye, a single tear falling down her cheek. We fade into a montage of simple home footage of humanity. It is absolutely gorgeous. To couple a film that is so absurdly silly and funny with moments of such profundity is rare, and oftentimes a tonal disaster. Not here. Greta nails it.

Barbie says, "I want to do the imagining, not be the idea. I want to be a part of the people that make meaning, not the thing that is made."

Humans make meaning. We have to embrace both the joy and the sadness for any of it to count. I don't fully understand who I am, what I (or any of us) are doing here, or what the point of it all is. I will spend the rest of my life trying to figure that out. But as long as I can make meaning I'm pretty sure I'm going to be okay. 

- Empathy and Motherhood -

"We mothers stand still, so our daughters can look back to see how far they've come." 

Barbie is a film rich with empathy. In fact, the undercurrent of every single theme the film explores is the necessity for empathy for a productive, thoughtful, equitable life. This is the approach that I try to live by. I am imperfect. I make mistakes. I get angry and mean. But I try so deeply to lead with empathy. If we can not only understand the feelings of others but try to share those feelings with them, we can better understand everyone and everything around us. Empathy makes us better, richer people. I would argue that empathy is the key to a civilized society and that we are living through a period wherein empathy is in distressingly short supply. With the popularity of social media, with the increase in hyperpartisanship, with the rampant negativity and bias of the media, we can so easily lose sight of what matters. We forget to stop for a second and consider the experiences of others. We forget to be empathetic. We hop right to anger and callousness. 

The main human characters in Barbie are the mother and daughter team of Gloria and Sasha. Gloria is the executive assistant of the CEO of Mattel and Sasha is a lost and angry tween, content to tell people like it is, forgoing all empathy and emotion. When we first meet them, the relationship of Gloria and Sasha is strained. In fact it is Gloria who, in her time of need and pain, plays with Barbie, imagining her as Irrepressible Thoughts of Death Barbie. (Who among us hasn't had irrepressible thoughts of death? Just Me? Got it.) This causes the rift between the two worlds. This causes Barbie to malfunction, setting her on her path to the Real World and everything that follows. Gloria feels a dearth of empathy all around her and is getting very little from her daughter. 

Barbie is hardly the first film to deal with putting the pieces back together in a mother/daughter relationship. It is as common of a trope in fiction as Daddy Issues, because all of us, in one way or another, have fraught experiences with our parents. When Gloria and Sasha travel to BarbieLand and eventually team up with Barbie and her friends# to help restore things to their proper order we see them beginning to find new understanding in each other. Sasha realizes that her mother is far more "sad and dark and weird" than she may let on. Gloria realizes how smart and capable her daughter can be. They empathize with each other's experiences and that bonds them in a deep and meaningful way. Respect is earned, and it enriches and emboldens both of them. 

(#That it is Kate McKinnon's Weird Barbie and a bevy of other outsiders, including Growing Up Skipper, Barbie Video Girl, and Sugar Daddy Ken that are instrumental in restoring BarbieLand is a paramount thematic choice. Of course it would be the unloved dolls that are forgotten and thrown away, suffering an existence with little to no empathy afforded to them, that would help save the day.)

In the film's opening scene, our intrepid narrator notes that until Barbie, girls only had baby dolls. This means that girls could "only ever play at being mothers, which can be fun... for a while. Ask your mother." The film's relationship with motherhood is complex and perhaps filled with multiple opposing viewpoints. In fact, I think that one of the film's strengths is how it presents a lot of conflicting themes and ideas that all create a conversation as opposed to a sermon, allowing viewers to discover what may work for them. Is this opening narration suggesting that motherhood is simply a task like any other that ends up rote and boring? Is this particularly true when a mother isn't getting an equitable exchange of energy from her child? In her movie stealing speech, Gloria notes that, "you're supposed to love being a mother but not talk about your kids all the damn time." Motherhood, like anything else, is a series of contradictions. 

The quote I began this section with is said by Ruth Handler to Barbie before sending her off on her new human journey. Barbie was named after Ruth's daughter Barbara, and if anything Barbie herself is Ruth's daughter. Ruth's creation. Perhaps that's the best that can be done. Set up those who come after us for success as we watch them thrive. That's what I hope for Gloria and Sasha. And for Barbie herself as she begins her journey in the human world.

That's empathy. 

- Dream Ballet (A Love Letter to Cinema) -

For a movie that is not quite a musical to feature a lavish, large scale musical number during one of its climactic moments is fabulously audacious. Then again, nothing Greta Gerwig does in the film is the easy choice. What begins as a private, shirtless musical lament in his room turns into a spectacularly silly all out battle between the Kens on the beach - all while Ken is singing. And then the unthinkable happens. Greta Gerwig, in her infinite wisdom, utilizes the elusive and daring dream ballet. And it is pure cinematic magic. Like Oklahoma or An American In Paris or most pointedly Singin' In the Rain, the Kens find themselves in what is essentially an empty studio with pink and blue hues and they dance. The choreography, the camera movements, the song itself, and the performances in this scene are utter perfection. The Kens sing, "I'm just Ken, and I'm enough, and I'm great at doing stuff," in their black tees, black pants, and pink socks and the smile on my face is enough to brighten the darkest of cinemas. I would give this sequence a standing ovation, but I don't want to disturb the moviegoing experience of others. 

Barbie is a film overflowing with love for cinema. Gerwig wears her influences on her sleeve. Classic films like The Red Shoes and The Umbrellas of Cherbourg influence the visual style and the color scheme while the pitter-patter of His Girl Friday or The Philadelphia Story is directly reflected in the film's pacing and dialogue. The structure and thematic intent often mirrors the thoughtful brilliance of The Truman Show. None of it feels gimmicky or obvious. This isn't a ripoff or a deconstruction, but rather a director using her genuine admiration for the classics to inspire her choices. This is a beautifully made film, a work of postmodern pop art akin to Who Framed Roger Rabbit in its metatextual blending of known intellectual property and real filmmaking. The self-aware nature of the narration and at times even the characters, not to mention the use of Mattel itself as a character in the film (the presence of Will Ferrell as Mattel's CEO brings Elf and The Lego Movie to mind) only serve to reinforce the film's surreal intellectual intentions. 

The film's comedy ranges from the absurd to the silly, from slapstick to farce, and everything in between. The film has as much in common with Jacques Tati's Playtime as it does, say, Legally Blonde. There are bon mots and turns of phrase that are so damn smart. Greta has cemented herself as a cinematic genius, but it is so clear why she asked her partner Noah Baumbach, so good at wit and sharp dialogue, to co-write the film with her. This film is outrageously funny. I simply cannot remember the last time I laughed this hard and consistently throughout a movie. Every single person in front of and behind the camera fully understood the assignment. A single word (in this case: "sublime") has no right to be this funny, and yet... outrageous.

Barbie is a movie for those who love movies, made by someone who has not only a clear passion for the history of cinema but the skill to imbue the proceedings with the sort of grand, classical approach to filmmaking that is all too rare. Like the golden age Hollywood musicals of the 40s and 50s, the film's use of practical sets (the design and functionality of the transportation sets are whimsical and extraordinary) and color and costume are a feast for the eyes. Every element of the film is firing on all cylinders. It is a love letter to the very art of cinema itself. 

- "Do You Guys Every Think About Dying?" -

What more is there to say? Other than yes, I think about dying all the time. It is a distressingly common occurrence in my mind, perhaps as common as me going to a theater to see Barbie. And I don't intend to stop at 8. This is an unbelievably special film. Perfectly imperfect. These filmmakers have taken a children's toy and somehow managed to create what I believe is a landmark work of pop cinema. If you trust a filmmaker to carry out their vision, the possibilities are endless. Aesthetically gorgeous, delightfully feminist, and brilliantly postmodern. Barbie is indeed everything.