The Barbie Movie ★★★☆☆
Ah, Barbie. The movie that dares to be a frothy cocktail of existential angst, corporate satire, and pastel pink. Directed by Greta Gerwig, this film is not your run-of-the-mill IP cash grab, even though Mattel is clearly laughing all the way to the bank. It manages to sneak in some actual soul-searching amid all the glitter and dollhouse furniture.
We begin in the idyllic world of Barbie Land, where Barbie (Margot Robbie, in peak “Stereotypical Barbie” mode) wakes up each morning with perfect hair, an impossibly tiny waist, and an unshakable sense of purpose. Her primary companion? Ken (Ryan Gosling, delightfully idiotic), whose job is quite literally “beach.” But existential dread hits Barbie like a ton of dream house bricks when she starts contemplating death—because nothing says “toy movie” like an identity crisis. Barbie and Ken venture to the real world, where Barbie learns that being a woman is infinitely more complex than just being able to do anything (as if becoming president or a Nobel Prize-winning physicist was a casual Tuesday). Meanwhile, poor Ken grapples with his own budding sense of inadequacy. Yes, that’s right: patriarchy meets Malibu, and it’s an awkward blind date.
Despite the rosy exterior, Barbie is grappling with some hefty ideas. Feminism, identity, and societal expectations of women form the foundation. There’s a clever dissection of Barbie’s legacy: she was meant to inspire girls to be anything, but somehow the message got garbled into “be everything.” The film pokes fun at itself, but beneath the satire lies a pointed critique of gender roles and corporate exploitation, albeit sometimes delivered with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
Gerwig’s direction is a fever dream of 1950s Technicolor musicals, sprinkled with a dash of The Truman Show and topped with a heap of retro camp. The sets are jaw-droppingly delightful—Barbie Land looks like a real-life dollhouse, with everything from plastic waves to choreographed dance numbers reminiscent of classic Hollywood musicals. But amidst the visual spectacle, Gerwig infuses moments of introspection, giving us a whiplash-inducing mix of candy-coated fun and self-aware meta-commentary. It’s a wild ride, if a little exhausting by the end.
Margot Robbie is perfectly cast as Barbie, toeing the line between satire and sincerity. She brings just enough depth to make Barbie’s identity crisis believable while keeping things playful. But it’s Ryan Gosling who absolutely steals the show as Ken. His journey from vapid, validation-seeking sidekick to a misguided enthusiast of toxic masculinity is both hilarious and weirdly poignant. Other standouts include Kate McKinnon as the unhinged “Weird Barbie,” who looks like every childhood doll that took one too many DIY makeovers, and America Ferrera, who delivers a monologue about the impossible standards imposed on women that is equal parts profound and a tad preachy.
Here’s where Barbie stumbles a bit. The movie starts off strong with a rapid-fire pace of gags and visual splendor, but it slows down in the middle, trying to juggle its myriad of messages. It’s a bit like watching a comedian stop mid-routine to deliver a TED talk on gender theory. The tonal shifts from absurd humor to somber reflection can feel jarring, and by the time we get to the final act, it feels like the film has explained its core ideas one too many times. The breezy satire at the start is almost more effective than the earnest monologues that follow.
Watching Barbie is like biting into a cupcake and realizing there’s a philosophical filling inside. It’s a fun, zippy blockbuster on the surface, but it pokes at larger questions about what it means to exist in a world that demands so much from women. For anyone who’s ever felt the pressure to look perfect, achieve everything, and never show weakness, Barbie hits surprisingly close to home. Personally, I could have done with fewer lectures and more weird dancing Kens, but hey, that’s just me.
So, who is Barbie for? It’s not just for kids—honestly, they might miss most of the jokes. It’s for anyone who’s lived through the contradictions of modern womanhood or enjoyed watching plastic dolls embody very real human struggles. Gerwig has delivered a movie that’s messy, inventive, and occasionally a bit too full of itself. But, in the end, it’s hard not to admire her for swinging big.
