A Two Month Retrospective on Barbie: To Worship Her, or Not to Worship Her, That Is the Question

Welcome, reader. Now that I have you here, I earnestly hope that you-who-clicked at least enjoyed Barbie (2023), because there is tremendous bias to behold throughout the forthcoming wordcount. I absolutely loved Greta Gerwig’s interpretation of Barbieland. I was absolutely transfixed during Barbie's runtime; I was transformed by the time I left the theatre.

Make no mistake, though – Barbie is far from perfect, despite my praise. YouTube already has a wealth of valid criticism of the film, so I won’t retread what has proven to be a great many insightful and incisive takes (read: verilybitchie's "The Plastic Feminism of Barbie,", Broey Deschanel's "Feeling Cynical About Barbie" etc.) Barbie – evidently, deservingly – has cultivated discourse. Nearly two months later, I’m still thinking about it, and its effectiveness, even if it has been a sobering two months. Truly, I still love it. It’s also true that my love includes a healthy dose of sardonic irony. After all, a not-insignificant portion of the internet does criticise the level of depth the movie explores regarding intersections of existence that are not just cis white women. 

And, like, that is so, so valid. As an indisputably postmodern movie, Barbie certainly touts themes of marginalisation, championing pluralism, and inclusivity. Its execution of those ideas, however, may be more akin to lip-service – or virtue-signalling. Perhaps the best example is the much-contested reference to small-pox made by Gloria (America Ferrara). It doesn’t bode well that Indigenous folks' sole moment of representation was limited to just that one line, especially with Mattel already having relevant existing merchandise. Granted, it’s worth noting that by 1993 there were only two of these misrepresentative dolls, with the first having been released over a decade earlier. 

            31.       just a smidge too much time immemorial

BREAKING NEWS             

            This Just In:

Ken seizes

the means

of production.

what can’t be achieved

with a himbo’s gumption?

            Why of course:

The world’s just desserts.

It’s fitting that Barbie was problematic. A feminist, postmodern film created by an auteur (Gerwig) and a hegemonic corporate entity (Mattel) inevitably would be. Conveniently, Beneath the Garden has already featured an exploration of auteur theory that includes some of its socio-political ramifications and implications. More conveniently, Ben Blackwell, the writer of that piece, happened to frame that discussion using Greta Gerwig’s filmography, including Barbie. Because of Blackwell’s depth of discussion in his piece, I’ll focus less on auteur theory as it pertains to Barbie, and more on the inherent irony of a mega-corporation having made a film that calls for empathy. 

Let it be known that Mattel happens to have a networth of over seven billion dollars, as of September 17, 2023. Having previously referred to Mattel as “hegemonic,” let me provide a definition. It comes from Antonio Gramsci, an Italian marxist from the 20th century and it refers, especially, to the nonviolent ruling of the dominant class over those it subjugates. It is essential to acknowledge that, in this late-stage capitalist hellscape we live in, power structures often co-opt movements that are fundamentally antithetical with their established power. Wouldn’t you know it, self-referential as ever, Barbie includes the perfect allegory of this: Will Ferrell as Mattel’s CEO. He is ploying, patronising, exploitative, uncooperative, domineering, and, it must not be forgotten, outright detestable. I simply cannot fathom this character still being redeemable, were he to be played by anyone other than Will Ferrell. Even still, “redeemable” may be a misnomer. 

Ferrell plays Mattel’s CEO with the utmost of earnestness. He tells us, the audience, that his resolute pursuit to perpetuate the delicate status quo is “for little girls, and their dreams… in the least creepy way possible.” Just preceding that line’s delivery, he casually and inhumanely refers to one of his rollering entourage members as “Executive Number Two” rather than by name. Then, earlier, during his introduction, he quite dogmatically demands his bureaucratic subordinates to partake in a hilariously inefficient game of telephone. With these examples, it may be better to say that we are in-on-the-joke-of-hating-him than to say he is “redeemable”. 

I can only speak on behalf of myself – I find his character incensing, and infuriating; He is jointly infantiliz-ed and infantiliz-ing; he is tended to by only the most subservient, milquetoast, and deferential of men; and his presence deflates narrative momentum so devastatingly that his obsolescence could be compared to Laura Mulvey’s assertion of how women are treated as love interests in film.

Again, Barbie is not perfect, but I applaud it for making the villains of abolition seem like stomachable, quirky nuisances. Gerwig’s film is perhaps the most ambitious, progressive film that I – and most people – have seen. I find Barbie to be lightning in a bottle: stunning, provocative, yet still deserving a modest sum of caution. 

Do I care that Barbie is flawed? I walked away feeling changed, didn’t I? Barbie demanded of me that I reflect on the world, and that I reflect on myself, as I believe all “good” art should. She Hulk, last year, was fraught with much of the same hypocrisy that Barbie suffers, which itself proves to be a far more grotesque example of hegemony. Perhaps the problem lies in expecting more from art than reality. 

So, for now, like Ruth Handler said, let’s say Barbie was “just right.” 

Regardless, I’m happy to be writing about it with two months having passed.

I’m happier we’ll all get to see it move farther into the cultural rearview. 

Let’s welcome more progress in 2024.