*A few spoilers will be discussed*
Since July 21 (known hereafter as Barbenheimer day, as a result of the well-known, simultaneous release of two seemingly contrasting films, Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer), I’ve returned to the former two more times, ultimately having me wonder, on each occasion, what brings me back to the cinema, after all. The go-to answer is that there is something inevitably addictive about the movie’s (smart) silliness, accurately showcasing how dolls present themselves, how people (children and adults) tend to handle them and how playtime unfolds. How can one not have fun when they discover that Margot Robbie’s Barbie is to be seen walking around in tippy toes, even when she’s not wearing high heels? Going further, small daily activities, such as eating, drinking, brushing teeth, showering, will look simulated to viewers, but feel real strictly to the featured dolls (for you may still end up with a carton of expired milk in Barbie Land). Cars, planes, rockets may not have engines, but that does not stop them from working. Emerging issues are revealed through origami fortune tellers. Stepping even further, overused tropes (such as rips in the spacetime continuum) will be amplified and then toned down through ridiculous(ly) fun solutions and means of travelling across different dimensions. Those are some of the few examples from Greta Gerwig’s large-scale, pretend playground, but it is crucial to pinpoint how the film is definitely not all fun and games, since beneath extravagant performances and apparently light banter, there is a heavier load at play.
As expected, in the movie’s plot, there is significant focus on Robbie’s “Stereotypical” Barbie and Barbie Land itself, coming forth as a utopian matriarchy, one that mirrors the real-life patriarchy. At first, Barbie Land can look like a safe retreat for women (the many versions of Barbie), the space where everyone is supportive of each other and can be anything they wish. Men (more specifically, the Ken men) are portrayed as totally harmless “companions” to their Barbies, ready to be of service only when needed. This is a world where issues concerned with misogyny, racism, sizeism or ableism are long gone, and differences and achievements are equally celebrated… until they aren’t. Cracks in a fantasy land do not form, but are rather already there, concealed behind flashy grins and lengthy chains of “Hi, Barbies / Kens.” Just when one is about to think that dolls here are feeling comfortable with their statuses and lives, we get a glimpse of jealousy, insecurity and overall frailty among Kens, masking their dissatisfaction through brief fights among themselves, beach-offs that may have viewers smiling, but reveal the characters’ wish to assert their dominance in certain situations. Just when one starts to believe that they could get used to living in Barbie Land, free of any judgement, we witness “Stereotypical” Barbie’s friends retching when our heroine goes down with an unusual case of “flat feet” and is told that she is “malfunctioning.” All of a sudden, it is disclosed how real-life (beauty) standards are still present in Barbie Land, with boxes of fairness and political correctness being checked only at a surface level. Even more evident, there is either reluctance or inexplicable indifference directed towards some of the actual “discontinued” dolls that are briefly shown in the film (or dolls that have been played with too harshly in the real world, such as Kate McKinnon’s “Weird” Barbie). This very character subtly indicates to viewers that some of the story’s aspects or plot holes should not be overthought (since they are not meant to be taken seriously, in the first place) and that it is better sometimes not to ask too many questions. One may be tempted to follow her advice (so as to presumably enjoy the movie), but, in certain cases, that approach would have the audience situated in the same bubble that Barbie Land finds itself in. The narrator (voiced by Helen Mirren) claims she won’t disrupt one such illusion, but this exact observation will have some viewers further ask themselves why there should be confused, wide-eyed side glances towards Emerald Fennell’s Midge (the only pregnant doll in the franchise), faint groans at the sight of Michael Cera’s Allan and mean comments behind “Weird” Barbie’s back and, occasionally, to her face. So much for combating marginalization of different kinds.
Throughout the film, it becomes clear(er) that Gerwig has knowingly chosen to depict disheartening behaviours and problematic outcomes in relation to Barbie’s legacy. The director’s tongue-in-cheek approach allows her to poke fun at Mattel executives (a male administrative board confidently talking about promoting the concept of “female agency”) and have teen girls casually calling Robbie’s Barbie a fascist, after blaming her for perpetuating sexualized capitalism, rampant consumerism, unrealistic body images, and for setting the feminist movement back for 50 years. The inhabitants of Barbie Land would blissfully believe that the birth of Barbie (as an idea) had magically “stabilized” the real world and brought about equality among people. If the dolls are sure that changes in Barbie Land are automatically reflected in the real world, then what viewers can catch on to much earlier is that the situation is applicable the other way around, in fact: the humans’ day-to-day life, guidelines and standards are the ones shaping Barbie products and how they are perceived in time. Reality’s patriarchal system may not have Kens dominating the land of dolls, but it does have Barbies feeling anxious in their own skin at the slightest “deviation.” For “Stereotypical” Barbie, the flat feet and the first signs of cellulite are a game changer, the main reason for her to travel to the real world, so as to figure out whose “humanness” interferes with her “dollness” (or in other words, who has her becoming “sad, mushy and complicated,” as she also battles new “irrepressible thoughts of death”). Her arrival in the real world has her gradually realize that human life is far from being perfect and static, and that there is an additional fight against patriarchal structures and mentalities (which have never been erased out of nowhere, but rather just disguised).
By creating a feminist story through Barbie, Gerwig plays out a drastic scenario and demonstrates that a matriarchy is not the remedy for patriarchy; instead, the former is solely used as a tool to highlight the detriments of the latter. The audience is reminded that true feminism stands for equal rights among all genders. Contrary to some misguided reactions to the movie (people calling it “anti-men,” for example), the narrative pinpoints how patriarchy has men crumbling under senseless expectations and ways of emulating toxic masculinity. Joining Robbie’s Barbie in her trip to the real world, Ryan Gosling’s Ken is struck by the male-dominated streets of Los Angeles and falls prey to the macho representations of masculinity and the sense of superiority that comes along with them. Ken’s sudden switch in his behaviour is a response to his suppressed feelings of unworthiness back in Barbie Land. His understanding of patriarchy only uncovers deeper feelings of inadequacy, but it also paves the way towards a proper acknowledgment of underlying issues. Gosling’s Ken ends up being a spokesperson for his fellow Ken mates, shedding light on their tendency to define themselves purely according to the partners they seek, the clothes they wear, the houses they own – all entangled in a competition among themselves, in a useless search of establishing their self-worth through materialism and the approval of their romantic interests. The whole scheme of copy-pasting patriarchy into Barbie Land will have some viewers’ blood boiling, others appreciating the effective parody; however, more people may reach a consensus that Gosling performs a completely loose, campy character, who conveys even more emotions (and garners more laughter) through his facial expressions, artificial chuckles, props and Ken-coded shticks and phrases. Essentially, as patriarchy is eventually torn down in Barbie Land and Kens engage in an epic battle among themselves, on the beach, this charade transitions to the climax of the famous I’m Just Ken song. There is a dance-off particularly between Gosling and Simu Liu’s rival Kens (and multiple other Kens), in a temporary alternate dimension, a whole open space dedicated to, admittedly, a musical inner exploration of their Kenergy. If early dance sequences in the film had the characters sticking to strict choreography (meant to come across as liberating, but concealing doll-like rigidity and limitations),
Kens’ dream-like dance number already suggests a distinct level of freedom. Alongside the emancipation of one’s mind, there can be talks about a more subtle representation of bodily liberation occurring, a symbolic transformation from doll to human, and a manifestation of loose-jointed (self-)expression of love.
Echoing something close to a Pinocchio narrative, Gerwig’s movie seeks to emphasize the incomparable beauty of being human (despite the many possible hardships and trials). Barbie goes even further by hinting at a situation wherein it would be ideal not to be guided by gendered enmity. Robbie’s heroine taps into a whirlwind of emotions as soon as she steps into the real world; as she examines people around her, she processes their feelings and mirrors them, thus learning to empathize. (It is worth pointing out how this attitude is already visible in Allan’s case, who is often seen relating to those he is looking at, “re-enacting” their sentiments. This may also explain why he is the only doll hearing the narrator’s voice, perhaps a sign of him being better attuned to what is truly like to be human.) By purely embodying the idea of being a woman, “Stereotypical” Barbie needs to embrace diversity and change, while cultivating a sense of inner worth that may be lost amid societal (and patriarchal) standards. Beyond the either playful or brusque critique of Mattel, the film taps into the more carefree visions and lifestyles of children and older people, who are unburdened (or no longer as burdened) by external expectations.
What is required in-between these two corresponding stages of life is one’s active participation in moulding their existence. Death may be inescapable, but it all comes down to leaving a personal imprint behind. As Barbie herself declares, towards the end, “I wanna be part of the people that make meaning, not the thing that’s made. I wanna do the imagining, I don’t wanna be the idea.” And this can be easily read as Gerwig’s own feminist / artistic manifesto – and, ultimately, a general incentive for the audience members to shift the world bit by bit – and be true to themselves, in touch with what they actually want. In the end, some may believe that one keeps returning to the movie for Barbie’s fantasy in pink (or Ken’s mink), but in reality, after each viewing, there is always a new little detail to cling to for a while, just having us think.
Comments
Post a Comment