What ‘Barbie’ Was Made For
The Scoop features personal essays on movie-centric topics.
By Jordan Johnson
It’s Oscars week and Barbie has been notably dismissed in a few key areas. But you know what it was made for? (Hint: not The Academy.)
Here are twelve assertions about Greta Gerwig’s essential, controversial, deeply human movie about dolls—and the movie event of 2023.
There was no way Barbie wasn’t going to be controversial.
The entire crux of Barbie culture rides on it. In a world manufactured by sameness, it was born to be different. Ruth Handler, creator of Barbie, knew her daughter Barbara needed to continue dreaming of anything and everything she wanted: college, cheerleaders, regular people with careers—all with the paper dolls that inspired the most iconic and memorable toy in history. How can you be a mother watching your daughter knowing what’s waiting for her and not do something to help her achieve literally anything she wants in life?
The entirety of Barbie isn’t pure, and that is Gerwig’s point.
It comments on every piece of Barbie’s history with reckless wit and cunning sarcasm. It makes fun of itself, and yet, for being a movie about inanimate objects, is so unfathomably human. It’s not perfect because it isn’t supposed to be. It’s a crusader against perfectionism, and distracts with the raw facts at the exact times it needs to.
America Ferrera’s monologue took my breath away.
Margot Robbie thinking she wasn’t enough. Issa Rae being an absolute boss. Ncuti Gatwa and Emma Mackey shining. Instant icon status across the board.
Say what you want, but Greta Gerwig has range.
And she’s clearly worked her ass off to get here. She has agency and something to say, even if that means shaking up discourse. She dares you to disagree and dissect, showing you the aftermath of frustrations with feminism through an army of Ken dolls and the cause of it all with a boardroom of control-hungry Mattel executives.
Ryan Gosling and Margot Robbie in Barbie.
The vulnerability feels so real.
It’s what brings the characters to life. The jokes are savage, and to be honest, if you don’t laugh at them you’ve missed the point. It’s both biting like a comic and endearing as hell. It is a movie made through a woman’s point of view, which makes it wildly layered and whip smart. I could write a whole damn novel dissecting every joke, every visual, and every meaning.
The ending crushed me in the best way.
I saw this movie alone in a theater full of young people dressed in pink. There are certain things you hope to happen as a young adult. The sooner you can be understood, the better chance you have at not trying to ruin yourself. You’re a lot more forgiving when you feel understood. And you’re a lot more accepting to other’s experiences and existence. It’s important to know how people feel. When I see art relating to humans so honestly, I can’t help but feel connected to it.
When Billie Eilish whispers, “I used to float, now I just fall down,” I felt it in my bones.
It’s a call to a beginning scene in the movie, but it’s also a mantra for people who’ve fallen from the dream and into reality. Reality can be hard. Like Billie sings and Margot demonstrates, you can forget how to be happy.
The movie’s heartbeat is its innocence.
How childlike (and normal) the discovery of a gynecologist can feel—a brilliant, chef’s-kiss way to end. For every teenager who has felt uncomfortable and shameful about their body, this was a plain and simple lesson on how it’s way better to educate yourself about it instead. There’s more hope on the other end when you choose that path.
You can’t discuss Barbie without discussing her body.
She warped our sense of what women are “supposed to” look like. The “fear of cellulite” scene juxtaposed with the beautiful old woman on the bench tells you exactly where Greta and her script lie and where it wants you to be: at peace. At peace with the messiness and undeniable beauty of growing up and growing old. Love your body because you belong to it, and appreciate that our bodies are one of the primary things that makes us all unique.
The humanity in the film struck the biggest chord with me.
The kindness and warmth were always in the background. It felt safe to be nice in BarbieLand. The Kens may have detracted from that for a minute as they tried to strip the Barbies of their power and use them for their own self-esteem only after learning about men in the real world, instead of being honest about their feelings. That was tough but necessary to watch. Because Greta brought it all home with 1000 more life lessons. One being: only you can define your worth. (Even you, Ken.)
I’m not trying to convince everyone to love it as much as I did.
All I’m saying is, she’s freaking smart and anyone would be dumb not to see it. That’s all you can say to all the haters. And if you don’t see it, just let people like what they want to like.
Because that is precisely what Barbie was made for.
Jordan Johnson heads marketing for restaurants by day and indulges in new, lovable pieces of film and television by night. Find her posting about travel, food, and the people she loves on Instagram.