Greta Gerwig grapples with filmmaking and womanhood under capitalism in Barbie
In Greta Gerwig’s wide-reaching take on the iconic doll, the Lady Bird and Little Women director incorporates her own feminist storytelling sensibilities, embellished with plenty of pink and informed by a solid roster of influences. Gerwig takes on the heavy load of patriarchy, capitalism, and existential dread and conjures something heartfelt, sharply funny, with elements for anyone whose life has been touched in some way by the inimitable Barbie. It’s no small feat to create something potent yet lighthearted, sweet but not cloying, message-forward without preaching.
Margot Robbie takes on the role of our “stereotypical Barbie,” the one that comes to mind first when thinking about Barbie. She wakes up everyday with a smile on her face, and why wouldn’t she? With Lizzo backing her morning routine, everything perfectly falls into place for her, and the days pass by in perfect harmony amongst her fellow Barbies and coordinated Kens. Barbieland, it turns out, is affected by the people playing with barbies in the real world, and when a depressed Gloria (America Ferrera), begins playing with her long-forgotten doll in order to stave off some thoughts on looming death, Barbie is sent into an existential tailspin.
As with any hero’s tale, Barbie must embark on a journey of self-discovering, stepping outside of her normal routine. She’s joined by a persistent Ken (a darling Ryan Gosling), to the real world, where she must reconnect with Gloria in order to resolve her cellulite and deep-seeded depression. After a long trip via car, boat, camper, spaceship, and skates, Barbie realizes the world is actually still hell for women despite her invention in 1959—which according to Barbie Land lore, ended gender discrimination—and Ken is indoctrinated by the fruits of institutional patriarchy. From there, the Kens get a lot more douchey.
What Barbie offers in spades is jokes at the expense of male insolence and self-centeredness. From the beach serenade of Matchbox Twenty’s “Push” to the references of the dreaded “situationship,” these scenes offer room to poke fun at the ways men consistently disregard women for their own ego and lack of emotional availability. There’s an absurdity to this (mildly) exaggerated representation of men in relationships with women, and Gerwig allows women to be in on the joke, a rarity in big-budget films. Interacting with men can be absolutely silly when it’s not blindly infuriating, and Barbie hits on this idea succinctly.
A depressed Barbie like the one seen in the film’s playful commercial interruption may not be a bad idea, as young girls can prepare to navigate the pitfalls of existential dread. What ultimately helps Barbie through this rough patch is support from her wonderfully talented group of friends, and a further exploration of what she really wants in life. Sometimes deep sharing with your weirdest friends—ones who maybe played with Weird Barbie— can offer fresh perspective and push you to take on new, rewarding challenges.
As with any film striving to work through repressive institutions and seeking out ways to end them, Barbie’s far from a complete, black & white guide to an equal future. While solving the issue of patriarchy in Barbie Land was relatively simple, our world offers little avenues for such quick change. A Mattel-funded Barbie was never going to end patriarchy, and like its naive inception, it would be unrealistic to think it ever could. However, Gerwig still offers a salient, at times genuine look at modern girlhood devoid of the “girlboss” narrative the film was originally saddled with, and it’s fun. Remember girlish fun? It’s been a while since girl-centric fun was at the forefront of a big studio feature.
A film of this size was never going to be able to alter the way gender operates in our world (because it still needs to make some strike-squashing executives money), but Gerwig was able to navigate the story-numbing stipulations of capitalism in the form of Will Ferrell and his posse of bumbling cronies, which prioritize marketability and sales over all. As a mob, they represent the shallow drive to capitalize on movements, and any perceived changes in our societal landscape. It’s a constant machine, angled at maintaining a constant flow of cash, which is the only thing that makes an ordinary Barbie permissible at the end. It’s a gross truth we’re not able to ignore in Barbie, but Gerwig manages an immense amount of pressure and constraints, prevailing with something effused with heart and meaning.
The film is also meant to celebrate the complicated legacy of Barbie, with its missteps (sorry, Midge), and its eventual incorporation of inclusivity. It makes reference to Barbie’s impeccable fashion choices throughout the years, but also the strange decisions made by those in charge, like Allen (Michael Cera), who can swap clothes with his totally platonic best friend Ken. Mattel was never going to be completely skewered since it funded the film, but Barbie takes its own jabs at capitalistic-centric feminism and its failures to actually change the lived experience for women. Now, if Barbies start coming with miniature copies of The Communist Manifesto, then we can maybe reevaluate Mattel’s bottom line.
Patriarchy, capitalism, and existential dread are the unfortunate products of not living in a place like Barbie Land. Nonetheless, by the end of the film, our Barbie is prepared to walk through our world as a real woman. In contrast to her response at the beginning of the film, when she’d rather forget about all her worries, she stares true womanhood head-on, embracing aging, sexist men, and a non-censored nether region. While we may not necessarily have the same choice, we can choose how we navigate these things, and can actively choose to revel in womanhood everyday. While it may not be as pink and cheery as being a Barbie, it comes with a greater depth of feeling and connection, and joys unimaginable.
Despite seeing the inherent violence and struggles of womanhood in the world, our central Barbie decides to take the plunge anyways, into all of the pleasures, pains, and even pap smears of being a woman in our still-patriarchy dominated world. It’s never perfect like the shiny plastic coasts of Malibu Beach (or fitted with Issa Rae as president), but womanhood is full of non-standardized beauty, and as Barbie learns, deep deep feelings.
Gabrielle Sanchez is a film and music writer who just wrapped up two years at A.V. Club. Her main movie loves are rom-coms, noirs, and movies about women going insane. Some of her favorite directors include Robert Altman, John Cassavetes, and Ernst Lubitsch. When she’s not watching or writing about ‘30s screwballs, she can be found milling around coffee shops on the East Side with her dog Jepsen.