barbie

Love it or hate it, there’s no question that Barbie is the biggest party of the summer. Is it really deserving of its staggering, billion-dollar success? Well, putting aside the fact that the majority of its billion-dollar club brethren are comic-book blockbusters and franchise sequels (stuff like Captain Marvel and Jurassic World Dominion - the cinematic equivalent of underwhelming and underachieving Ivy League legacies), you could argue that the film’s satirical edge is surprisingly butterknife-soft at times… and that its meta-approach isn’t necessarily any more audacious than, say, the Brady Bunch Movie from the mid-90s. But Barbie is also directed with such easy confidence by Greta Gerwig (working from a script she wrote with partner Noah Baumbach), and benefits from the two best leads you could possibly hope for to headline this particular property. And on a website literally called Pop, one must tip one’s cap to the poppiest of pop moviemaking. 

We begin in Barbieland, a pink pastel wonder of practical production design, where the classic Barbie iteration - i.e. “Stereotypical Barbie” (Margot Robbie) - enjoys a perpetual nirvana of carefree routine, living it up in a matriarchal society with her fellow dolls (all of whom are also named Barbie). Ken (Ryan Gosling) spends his days at the beach with the other Kens (including Simu Liu and Kingsley Ben-Adir, among others), hoping to take his relationship with Barbie to the next level… though she gently rebuffs his advances in favor of all-girl sleepovers and dance parties at her Dreamhouse. Suddenly stress fractures begin to manifest on the surface of Barbie’s candy-colored facade - dark thoughts of mortality, along with cold showers and flat feet. “Weird Barbie” (Kate McKinnon), a disfigured outcast, informs Barbie she must venture beyond Barbieland and locate the child playing with her doll in the real world in order to set things right (one of the refreshing things about the movie is that Gerwig doesn’t sweat the meta-logic; it’s not Tarkovsky, after all… it’s a film based on a toy line. Like Barbie herself, it’s best to just put on a Colgate smile, hop into a pink convertible, crank the tunes and enjoy the ride).

The trailers suggested that Barbie and Ken crossing over into our reality is the primary thrust of the plot… but this actually constitutes a relatively small portion of the film’s runtime. Instead, Ken gets wind of “the patriarchy” and the knowledge he brings home throws Barbieland into complete chaos as he inspires a “Ken uprising” and a complete inversion of established gender roles (one of the most laugh-out-loud funny gags is Barbieland’s unofficial radio anthem changing from “Closer to Fine” by the Indigo Girls to Matchbox 20’s “Push.” Trust me - if you’re a certain age, you get it). In a weird way, the movie’s structural looseness and artificial aesthetics capture the nostalgic freedom of childhood play, to a far greater degree than the Transformers movies or GI Joe ever managed. It also results in a certain scattergun quality that some will find easier to overlook than others. America Ferrera, most notably, is given the film’s showstopper monologue (and will rightfully be remembered for it)… but the fractured relationship with her tween daughter, played by Ariana Greenblatt, starts near the emotional center and ends, well… not particularly near the emotional center. Likewise, the Will Ferrell-led toy execs who want to put Barbie “back in her box” remain fussing about, long after the shift back to Barbieland has rendered them moot (there’s a lot of gentle ribbing of Mattel while keeping the claws firmly sheathed; someone like Todd Phillips wouldn’t hesitate to bite the hand that feeds, but Gerwig plays nice).

The reason Barbie works to the extent that it does, however, is due almost entirely to Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling bringing unironic heart and pathos to characters that are, quite literally, molded plastic. Robbie’s particular nuclear blend of beauty, talent and fearlessness is almost without peer… but aside from her note-perfect portrayal of Harley Quinn and Oscar-nominated turn in I, Tonya, she’s struggled at times to find a worthy outlet (more recently she’s had to settle for the self-conscious grandiosity of middling auteurist fare such as Amsterdam and Babylon). Her on-screen luminosity goes without saying (the camera truly does worship her), but it’s easy to overlook just how nimble her performance actually is… the way she pivots from frivolous slapstick to emotional vulnerability, often within the same scene. Hopefully the post-Barbie world order is one in which she’s free to operate with no career handbrake. As an actor, Gosling has a singular intensity that somehow never feels one-note… though it does often overshadow how funny he can be. There’s something quite endearing about reports of him approaching the role of Ken with the same level of focus and dedication as if he were prepping for a Nicolas Winding Refn picture. He finds the film’s wavelength with an ease that a loopy method freak such as Jared Leto never could. His rendition of “I’m Just Ken” has deservedly etched its place in the zeitgeist fabric of 2023.​

Of course, there’s plenty to theoretically criticize - the existentialism doesn’t go deep enough, it’s not particularly risky as feminist polemics go, plenty of jokes fizzle out like a damp firecracker (the “beach you off” gag is the cringiest of puns)… but Barbie has a genuine warmth, and few filmmakers could balance celebration and satire better than Gerwig does (it’s a movie that’s almost rapturously free of cynicism). Much like one of Barbie’s Dreamhouse shindigs, you’d have to work pretty hard not to have a good time. The film also delves surprisingly deeply into Barbie lore (Michael Cera plays Allan, the dorky and much-mocked Ken alternative, while Emerald Fennell portrays Barbie’s pregnant pal Midge). More than anything, Gerwig deserves credit for her astoundingly perfect and subversive closing gag. It’s a complete 180 from Oppenheimer’s shattering grace note, and yet… both endings are unforgettable in their own way, and complement one another perfectly. That, more than anything, is the true enduring power of “Barbenheimer.”