Barbie: A Feminist Film? It’s Complicated.
Barbie, Greta Gerwig’s blockbuster hit, made more than $1 billion at the global box office within the first three weeks of its release. The film fired up social media and discussion with its extensive marketing campaign, was accompanied by an addictive soundtrack, and all the while maintained its primary objective of remaining a delightfully fun romp throughout, bursting to the brim with jokes, cameos, pink (of course), and many feminist statements.
So, what does Barbie try to achieve in terms of feminism? Gerwig labelled it as “most certainly a feminist film”, but opinion is divided, with some labelling it as reflective of mainstream feminist ideals packaged in bright and shiny Mattel commercialism.
The central plot of the film lies in stereotypical Barbie experiencing an existential crisis regarding her purpose in the matriarchal Barbie World, leading her to go out into the Real World to pursue what she actually wants. Ken (Ryan Gosling) also derives a large plot point through trying to turn Barbie World, typically a matriarchy, into a patriarchy. Ken later admits that he wanted to give up the patriarchy as soon as he found out it wasn’t about horses. Ken’s conclusion deftly categorises the discomfort of a patriarchal society into a gender issue and suggests that men ultimately do not want to hold onto the roles that society has taught them to assume. This is just one possible interpretation of a statement regarding gender in the film.
Gerwig has previously helmed films with independent female characters who procure emotion amongst viewers through climactic monologues: Amy March in Little Women (“don’t sit there and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is,”) and Christine in Lady Bird (“Hi Mom and Dad, it’s me, Christine. It’s the name you gave me.”) The same thing was to be expected in Barbie, and when the scene plays, it is noticeably the film’s most obvious feminist statement. Mid-way through, following stereotypical Barbie’s breakdown concerning her low self-esteem, Ferrera’s overworked and underappreciated mother Gloria launches into a monologue where she lists the impossible double standards of being a woman. The obvious conclusion that Gerwig leads the female viewer to is one of resonance, frustration and identification with the examples she gives: “You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail … And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.”
Watching this in the cinema, I found myself cringing in my seat at how brash and cloy it felt. My natural reaction was one of dislike, and then, confusion. Does this make me a bad feminist? Two of my female family members cheered and clapped at this scene, both having had complex marriages, experienced misogyny in the workplace, and having raised unappreciative teenagers - to list a few ways in which the notion of gender percolates the lives of women. Perhaps therein lies the problem: the speech touches on what it means to be a woman, without offering a solution. What did Gerwig want Barbie to communicate, that wasn’t already common knowledge?
I know enough about the world to know that all these problems exist, so my instinctual reaction of recoiling confused me. In conversation with a friend, she acknowledged that there was no other way modern feminism could have been summarised in the context of a film script. So maybe I didn’t resonate so much with Gloria’s speech – but with other, smaller moments. There is a 30 second skit advertising a modern-day depressed Barbie who binge-watches the BBC’s adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (the one starring Colin Firth). It’s an indication of what it means to be a modern woman today and acknowledges that women cannot always reflect the powerful and strong roles Barbie offers.
The film does point out how Barbie has done both good and bad in advocating for women: on the one hand Barbie promotes the idea that girls can be anything they want to be. At the same time, they must maintain completely unrealistic body standards. Stereotypical Barbie herself complains about wearing heels when she gets flat feet, saying she would never wear them if her feet were not shaped to fit the heel. Herein the film consistently pokes fun at its own creation.
At the end of the day, does Barbie really matter? It’s a fun summer movie, and for the most part, a genuine joy to watch, but it doesn’t reveal anything ground-breaking. So, try and enjoy it, and don’t try too hard to grasp what it does or doesn’t say about feminism. You’ll be going around in circles for months. At least, that’s what this Barbie found out.