The cultural impact of the Barbie doll cannot be undersold, and outside of direct-to-video stories involving twin switcharoos and mermaids, it’s hard to imagine that there hasn’t been a true Barbie blockbuster before — after all, it’s been almost 65 years since the first Barbie was sold to the public. It seems bizarre that it took Mattel and Warner Bros. this long to release a film on the dynamic and influential doll, especially one directed and co-written by Greta Gerwig.
Alas, it has been made, and after a lengthy promotional roll-out, we finally get to see it on the big screen. However, it might not be the Barbie movie one may have expected — Stereotypical Barbie (Margot Robbie) finds her perfect life disrupted by growing “imperfections” on her body, and with her easily-impressionable Ken (Ryan Gosling) tagging along, she ventures into the real world to set things right. The more time the duo spends in the real world, the more they begin to change for the better, the worse, and the complexly human. In theory, it’s a plot that isn’t too dissimilar from Gerwig’s previous films, Lady Bird and Little Women: lost women, shifting landscapes, and fostering connection are all hallmarks of her work, and they are just as poignant here as ever.
Complex is probably the best word to describe this former Barbie fanatic’s opinions on this meta comedy. It’s clear that Gerwig was given a huge amount of creative freedom with how many self-referential jabs and jokes there are. At times, especially towards a tear-jerking final act, her indie roots are on full display, a remarkable feat in an era where major studios snatch similar talent for projects and proceed to drain their style of individuality. This film is far more conscious of Barbie’s complicated legacy than one might expect, with it acknowledging the ignorant and consumer-feminist idea that a toy can help fuel equality. It is also a technical marvel, especially in its set production by Sarah Greenwood and costumes by Jacqueline Durran.
There is a major problem with Barbie, however, that cannot be seen as a separate aspect of the film. It is a problem that encompasses the entire movie to a near-suffocating degree, one that threatens to undermine everything that Gerwig’s script (co-written with Noah Baumbach) almost expertly satirizes. That problem is, of course, the rampant consumerism that fuels the film’s entire existence. Barbie is just a glitzy and plot-driven advertisement, going so far as to highlight very specific clothes and accessories to the audience. It even ends on a potential pitch for a new tie-in Barbie introducing a normal Barbie trying to get through life that will undoubtedly be sold in stores at some point (see the “I Am Kenough” sweatshirt already being a big hit online). What these advertisements try to get at is simple: the world might be ugly, but these products and brands can help alleviate the pain of living. Barbie can do this too, a mirror of what we could be as long as we keep fueling Mattel’s $7 billion money-printing machine.
Despite Gerwig’s best attempts at tying these together in a satirical way, the attempt is ultimately futile. Ariana Greenblatt’s character is essentially a jaded audience stand-in, listing off the societal ramifications of Barbie and going so far as to calling her fascist. Sure, that last part might be a bit too far (she doesn’t control the railways, after all), but the film skirts around these criticisms for an uncomfortably long amount of time. They hang more so as a hollow joke than the actual criticism it is clearly meant to be. It’s as if the movie wants to dive deeper into these topics, but Mattel’s only provided it with a kiddie pool.
That’s what prevents Barbie from being just as magical as Gerwig’s other works. Despite being similarly written, neither Lady Bird nor Little Women feel inherently condescending towards its viewer because they aren’t bursting at the seams with product placement and corporate apologia. The problem, ultimately, is that Gerwig and Mattel’s individual objectives for this movie not only are blatantly obvious, but clash with each other in distracting ways through this corporate cynicism. She may have gotten away with a lot more than expected, but the creative boundaries she wasn’t allowed to cross are as clear as day.
This isn’t to say that the film is a complete failure, because at the very least, there is actual craft put into it. Robbie and Gosling both fully lean into their characters, although the stand-out has to be the sardonic Hari Nef, who is arguably the only Barbie variation on the script’s true wavelength. It also proves how great of collaborative partners Gerwig and Baumbach can be, with the script sounding and feeling like a slightly more kid-friendly version of their other work. In this alternate reality, it doesn’t seem too unlikely that Robbie’s Barbie would get on well with Frances Ha’s titular character.
The thing about Barbie to understand is that it is a film that ultimately is better analyzed in individual parts rather than the final sum. For every great thing about its smart script and technical prowess, there is the narrative reminder that viewers are being relentlessly sold to that cannot be ignored. That’s what makes it such a frustrating and ultimately disappointing turn from Gerwig, although to say she sold out would be disingenuous. It is extremely clear that there was an effort by her to make this more than just an advertisement, especially as the film comes to a close. Any criticism that could and has been thrown at the film is purely because of Mattel, but unfortunately, that was to be expected.
We were never going to get the anti-capitalist and pro-feminist exploration of Barbie that the doll deserves, but as hard as Gerwig clearly tried to bring these elements into the fray, they were drowned out by the demand to advertise. Unless things drastically change within the Hollywood system itself, distinct creative visions will always be held to a lower standard than corporatism. Consider Barbie the ultimate indicator of this sad truth.
