Barbie (2023)
Director: Greta Gerwig
Stars: Margot Robbie, Ryan Gosling
Short Review, no spoilers
Overall, Barbie is something of a peculiarity however, who
am I to argue with the millions who have been to see it, and its apparent power
to get banned in several countries. Nevertheless, I left the cinema wandering
who would be most satisfied with the film as a whole – it didn’t strike me as
either particularly child-friendly or nostalgically adult-friendly and in fact,
probably better suited to Greta Gerwig fans than Barbie fans. It’s quite fun
briefly but then descends in to verbose, concentration-testing dialogue and feminist
sentiments which may or may not be inspiring, perhaps depending on how much
you’ve heard it all before and better delivered. Gerwig seemed keen to protect
her indie image with attempts to intellectualise and referencing Pavement rather
than attempt a brave and fresh look at what Barbie offers the world today. It
feels like a disappointingly missed opportunity.
Full Review (spoilers)
I feel that I went through a brief but tumultuous
relationship with the new Barbie movie (better half of the Barbenheimer
phenomenon? I have yet to endure the masculine side of this very straight,
white coupling). My initial cynicism was abruptly overturned when the trailer
was played at my local cinema – I loved it! It seemed to be what I had never
thought of, or thought possible in this day and age – a vision of Barbie that
was equal parts ironic and celebratory. I was as super-excited as every Barbie
fan should be – as a world-weary almost 40-year-old it seemed to offer both
exaggerated nostalgia and a wryly humorous examination of the daft fantasy that
is Barbie. It looked funny! Where once I was puzzled over the assignment of
Greta Gerwig as director, I now speculated that she may actually be perfect for
the job. A situation where in taking two seemingly polar opposites – an
enduring dinosaur of mass-marketed mega toys and ‘indie’ darling of current day
American film - a perfectly complementary balance might well be achieved.
What in fact seems to have occurred is less an odd couple
match made in heaven as a match made in hell. The ultimate outcome is that girls
and women are dictated to by a pair of overbearing parents helicoptering over
them and inexplicably, it is the plastic doll who sits there inanely but
consistently promoting sentiments that girls can be and do anything they want
through a dogma that has been taken apart many times and more effectively for
years that engages more sympathy. By the end, I felt sorry for Barbie - bullied
nigh on out of existence by modern day, surface-level soul-searching – and
myself for having to endure long, drawn out, apparently meaningful moments that
were really an example of the unfocused, unimaginative, social media-style
muddle that is current debate these days – overly influenced by a treacherous
tussle between hardline capitalism and modern day right-on ‘left’ espousements.
When I first settled in to a pleasingly packed auditorium (at
11am in the morning by the way) and took in an interesting mix of audience with
many getting in to the pink spirit of things, I felt something of the thrill of
a uniting and somewhat significant event. And the start of the film seemed
perfectly in keeping with what I had come to expect. Beginning with a
wonderfully wrought vision of how Barbie came in to being, it plays as the opening
moments of 1959: A Doll Odyssey, as little girls dash their baby dolls in to
the earth when a giant monolith of glamorous, womanly toydom in a fetching
swimsuit emerges in to their realm, revealing aspirations beyond a fantasy of
domesticity and motherhood.
Shooting forward to the present day, Barbieworld appears as
an expansion of everything that was opposite to the original baby doll –
utterly divorced from the real world, virginal, individualistic, and heavily
materialistic. I chuckled wryly, remembering the peculiarity of my simultaneous
fascination and frustration with this toy as a child – the Dreamhouse that has
a little elevator but no walls, the presence of ghastly but intoxicating pink
everywhere. It seemed to be working through what I had anticipated – a knowing
but amusing examination of the obscure practicalities we accept of a
mass-produced doll, like tip-toed feet that fit perfectly modelled high heeled
shoes, and permanent shiny-toothed happiness. However, it wasn’t long before my
open-minded want to enjoy gradually began to close down like a fading grin. I’m
clearly out of date – I haven’t perused a toy catalogue gorging on which pink
nightmare I would just love to own for at least 30 years. But I could not
believe that any toy based entirely around fantasy (which all toys are) has
been rolling out dolls based on real human beings … EVER. So for me the
presence of more real-looking diverse ‘Barbies’ in Barbieworld jarred
immediately. I wasn’t aware that they had ever made Barbies that are BMI
bothering, anything other than strictly and clearly man or woman, or frankly
just normal looking. Barbie awareness of its totalitarian white promotion of a
particular kind of surface aesthetic beauty is no new thing – they made
Christie a long, long time ago to address the race issue, but really, she was
just a brown-skinned, black-haired version of Barbie. THAT’S Barbieworld.
Everyone is just a modified version of Barbie. Ok so maybe that’s what the
filmmakers are deliberately doing here, except that everyone is Barbie or Ken
in name instead of physicality? But in which case, if it’s a simple reversal,
then the same applies? In that here a community would seem to be diverse
but actually isn’t because they’re all called by the same name? I didn’t get
the sense that that particular level of irony was being explored to its fullest
potential if at all.
Another significant back-fire and mis-hit is that - in a
film apparently promoting reclamation of power and attention from men -
Ryan Gosling’s Ken completely steals it. He gets more of the comedy and more of
the character complexity; Gosling’s performance is better than Margot Robbie’s (although
he has much more to work with); and whereas Ken realises a full character arc,
Barbie’s role falters just as it might have developed, and positively
disintegrates as the film progresses. It is also one of the notable circumstances
through which the film opens up an interesting can of worms before tying itself
in a knot by apparently trying to resolve it. Ken’s delight at discovering the
world of patriarchy is very funny at times but results in getting caught
between the two potentials of either illuminating something pointedly and
entertainingly or developing a premise more fully and critically. What plays
out is a wayward address to the problem of patriarchy followed by acquiescence
through equality. As a result, Barbie is demoted as the heroine and star of her
own particular universe and Ken is promoted from his traditional role as
supporting sidekick. By the end, Ken no longer has to endure the quiet valiance
of taking a step back and allowing the limelight to his girlfriend, instead
enjoying reward for his patriarchal petulance, while Barbie’s ending is the
excited demand for a real-life vagina. In offering Ken equality, the film
misses the entire point of Barbie promoting women to the forefront, and of
Barbie being a central - if fantastical - offering as a heroine to girls the
world over.
One of the questions no one is asking is why a toy that is
aimed at girls is so fraught with neurosis when toys stereotypically designed
for boy’s apparent wants are not burdened by the same. It seems like a wasted
opportunity to explore such things in a radical way that need not necessarily
fear upsetting the sponsors/manufacturers. I did enjoy the inclusion of ‘weird’
Barbie – my own childhood favourite doll was an accidental misfit: she ended up
somewhat grunge, with dreadlock-ish hair and adorned with Mr T’s red, off the
shoulder, long-sleeved T-shirt. By happy accident, she was transformed from
just another dumb doll to something kind of cool. What I am trying to say is
that ultimately, Barbie has the potential to be a fantasy toy that girls can interpret
how they want, appropriate or reject as they wish. Instead, this film briefly
introduces the freedom to play before heavily burdening it with the anvil of
already-developed adult angst that frankly we could all do with a little less
of.
To sum up, if I found watching Barbie an ultimately deflating and at times angering experience, the aftermath was that I did reflect nostalgically on what Barbie meant to me as a child. And one of the most significant of those reflections is that I remembered how much I always preferred Sindy