Barbie — feminist, political or simply American?
Barbie is a great film. From meticulous set design, stunning visuals, great direction to Margot Robbie’s stellar performance, the movie certainly delivered on its promise of being starlet of the year. The story — crafted by the indie-duo Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach — was good, too. Or should I say, stories?
Indeed, if Barbie has one ‘flaw’ it’s the sheer amount of arcs it’s trying to surmount. Between Barbie’s transformation to becoming a ‘real woman’, Ken’s identity crisis and the life drama of the ‘real’ woman Gloria and her daughter, the movie has a lot going on. However, what may at first seem like sloppy storytelling, made sense the more I thought about it. I always found it cheesy when people say “the true protagonist of the film is the city”, but here I concluded just that: the protagonist of Barbie is neither a doll, nor a woman (nor Ken), but feminism itself.
As such, the film’s conflicting messages, self-conscious remarks, various themes and multiple protagonists is actually on point. They embody an ideology and movement that has always been complex and dare I say messy. Even her choice of music, which spans from indie girl duo ‘Indigo Girls’ to Hip Hop and Pop Queens like Destiny’s Child and Lizzo, reflects an attempt to include all of strands of the movement. Whether this makes for a tight story is questionable, but Barbie certainly illustrates the complexity of being a woman in the 21st century and the tension that has always been core to the feminist debate: to celebrate the ‘feminine’ or to reject it?
To be a mother or not to not be?
Nothing illustrates this tension better than the films divided stance towards motherhood. In a blatant parody of Kubrick’s opening scene to 2001 Space Odyssey, the movie opens with what appears to be a rejection of the mother and homemaker role. Little girls are shown smashing the heads of their babydolls at the ascent of Barbie, whose real arrival historically coincided with the women’s liberation of the sixties. Following this rejection, motherhood also remains conspicuously absent in the ensuing Barbieland. Apart from ‘pregnant Midge’ who is sarcastically sidelined, Barbies not only run the entire show here, but also appear free from the burdens of sexuality or the ability to bear children. (The fact that Barbie’s aesthetic, especially that of ‘stereotypical Barbie’ still seems to cater entirely towards the male gaze remains uncommented).
However, being the good feminist that she is, Gerwig doesn’t buy into this feminine utopia — or or dystopia, depending on how you see it — that reduces motherhood to poor Midge on her lawn. Instead she reintroduces the topic through what is arguably the movie’s real protagonist, Gloria (America Ferrera). The LatinX Mattel secretary and mother of an estranged teenager initially ruins Barbie’s perfect life with existential thoughts and dark drawings, only to become the story’s hero when she saves Barbie from being put in a box by the evil Mattel executives. She also helps Barbie reclaim Barbieland from Ken’s newly instituted patriarchy by enlightening the brainwashed barbies with an ‘inspirational’ speech. As a result, she not only reconnects with her daughter, but also finally gets the chance to pitch her idea of ‘regular barbie’ to the executives who immediately deem it a financial homerun.
Gloria’s character ultimately gives motherhood the space it deserves, sparing Gerwig the criticism of diminishing this important care work, which could have easily happened had it only been the genitalia-less Barbie. Unfortunately for Gloria, Gerwig slightly sabotages her importance in this regard by integrating a mother-daughter element into Barbie’s storyline as well (making us wonder whether Gloria is more a symptom of woke-washing than anything). The later not only encounters her creator Ruth Handler, but is also shown embracing motherhood — or at least the potential of it — in the movie’s final scene upon her first visit to the Gyno.
While I was certainly relieved that the movie didn’t end with Barbie becoming another cog in the capitalist wheel, the fact that womanhood is here linked with having female reproductive organs certainly makes itself ripe for criticism. However, what may appear like a celebration of motherhood may in fact bear a more bitter undertone: that the price of becoming a woman of the ‘real world’ is that of having a uterus — and everything that goes with it.
All sides of the gender coin
Motherhood aside, Gerwig also manages to cover the other other side of the feminist coin thanks to a third character: Ken. Ken’s figure allows us to explore toxic masculinity, exploring symbols of patriarchy as well as the constraints this system outs on men. However, Ken interestingly seems to serve a dual-function. While presenting us with the male perspective, his bystander role in Barbieland (essentially a reverse of the real world) also illustrates the (historical) repression of women and their place on the fringes of public life in an unsettling way. His discovery of patriarchy in the real world drives this historical imbalance home in what may be one of the movie’s strongest and humorous moments.
Freedom, liberty and justice for all
So what ties all these storylines together? Though clouded a little by all the pink and glamour, the American mantra of freedom of choice and self-determination underlines each of the narratives. Of course, even this concept, wonderfully visualized with a Birkenstock vs. high-heel showdown is not spared from a good dose of irony and self-awareness. Nevertheless, what is jokingly portrayed as a non-choice in reference to its Hollywood predecessors at first, still results in Barbie leaving behind Barbieland for good on her own accord. Her outbreak from the system also unleashes similar identity revamps in her counterparts: Mattel executives shake off their stiff office demeanour, Gloria finally rise up in the ranks, and Ken embarks on a journey that is somewhat vague, but that nevertheless conveys a sense of liberation.
Has Gerwig, by making liberation the core message of the film, found a common denominator in the many strands of feminism? Or is she simply a product of her own system that prizes individual liberty over everything else? It would certainly appear ironic that while Gerwig’s characters are released from the shackles of their own values system, she stays neatly within the boundaries of the narrative that drives almost every Hollywood film. To give her credit, the theme does still make for a dang good blockbuster, and also, the amount of self-conscious remarks do indicate that she knows what she’s playing at. It’s also hard to ignore the political undertone that the notion of choice has claimed in American society today. I am sure that i am not the only one who could subtly hear the cry from the left that has been ringing in our ears these past years: my body my choice.
Have our cake and eat it, too?
However you read it, Barbie’s dilemma still is a nod to the fact that even in this day and age, women must choose between motherhood and being a glamorous professional. Or perhaps is the film is anticipating that, one day, women can have it all?
Gerwig ultimately leaves it up to us, in what some deem an attempt to play it safe in the minefield of today’s identity politics. I however prefer to give Gerwig the credit she deserves for addressing the complicated status the Barbie doll holds today, and shedding light on the many debates that have taken place in the history of feminism. In that sense, Barbie is just like her protagonist: messy as hell, but certainly worth our time.