- The 'Barbie' movie is wrapped in the language of feminism, but it's ultimately not about that.
- It's about convincing millennials — many of whom reject Barbie — to embrace her as a role model.
Spoilers ahead for "Barbie."
When I first read the reviews and saw the social media posts about "Barbie," I was awestruck: Mattel is allowing this?! The winks at Ken's sexuality, the full-throated Barbie critique, the feminism!
But on my way home after seeing the film, it hit me: This movie isn't about women's empowerment, as it's been celebrated (and castigated) in some circles — it's a Barbie redemption story made for millennial women like me, who played with the dolls as kids and grew up to reject them. Its goal is to make it OK for feminist-minded moms (and aunties and others) to buy Barbies for their kids again.
Barbie took a hit around the time feminism was last on the rise
As a kid, I had loads of Barbies; they were basically impossible to escape as a little girl in the '80s and '90s. I played with them, sort of, if you can call cutting their hair "playing," but I was always a little unsettled by their permanent smiles and gigantic breasts. I didn't have the language to explain my feelings until high school when I first learned about feminism. By the time I hit my 20s, I had fully embraced feminism and its principles, even getting a degree in gender studies. And I wasn't alone.
It was around this time — the mid-2010s — that feminism had a major moment. It won significant celebrity endorsements, with everyone from Beyoncé to Kim Kardashian embracing the term. And its impact was apparent everywhere. States enacted "yes means yes" laws dealing with sexual consent, the Me Too movement crested and reshaped the modern workplace, and Hillary Clinton won the popular vote in the 2016 US presidential election. Merriam-Webster even named "feminism" its word of the year in 2017.
I can't draw a direct correlation, but I think it's worth pointing out that Barbie experienced her lowest sales figures of the decade around this time, dropping to $905 million in sales in 2014. This coincides with the time when most millennials were hitting their 20s, the typical age when childbearing first comes into the picture and Barbies start to become a part of life again through your children and friends' kids.
Of course, other factors contributed to Barbie's sales slump — the rise of "Frozen" dolls, for one — but a decisive move away from Barbie in this era is undeniable.
Where is Mattel's 'come to Jesus' moment in the new 'Barbie'?
In 2011, I hosted a panel on Barbie's enduring impact on women and girls centered on the Los Angeles art exhibition "Drown the Dolls." I was obsessed with this exhibit — it spoke to some deep yearning I'd always had to destroy Barbie, or at least what she stood for, and it gave me a real sense of satisfaction.
The artist, Daena Title, who'd "drowned" Barbies in her backyard pool to make the work, explained her motivation at the time:
"I remember playing with these Barbies and being very uncomfortable," she said. "There was something about them. They were smiling, sleek, smooth, and naked, and you could do whatever you wanted to them; they were just silent and submissive. I remember thinking, 'Oh my God, is this what's on the other side of girlhood for me? Am I going to transform into this? Because I really don't want to.'"
Title's words resonated with me; Barbie creeped me out, too. But in the "Barbie" movie, our doll heroine subverts that narrative. Barbie is the mayor of Barbieland. She's a Nobel Prize winner. Barbies make up the Supreme Court. Not to mention she barely gives Ken the time of day. Silent and submissive? Not this gal.
As a feminist, this was undeniably fun to watch — matriarchal societies are a cornerstone of feminist lore. I delighted in seeing Barbie come to grips with the tyranny of high heels, and the zany familiarity of Weird Barbie (played masterfully by Kate McKinnon) and her lopsided haircut. But I couldn't beat back the nagging reminder that Mattel itself was behind all this.
Yes, Barbie has to take in the harsh words of a teenage girl who's been harmed by Barbie and lets her know it. And yes, it's moving to see Barbie shed tears of regret and sorrow when faced with those truths. But, ultimately, despite director Greta Gerwig's poking fun at the Big Bad Corporation, Mattel never reckons with its role in women's subjugation, nor does it vow to change. In the end, reality is better than Barbieland and Barbie becomes a real woman.
No one from Mattel has to gaze into the eyes of a girl it's harmed vis a vis Barbie. Barbie just shows her young teenage skeptic how empowering Barbie can be, and Mattel carries on.
Of course, I never expected a movie bankrolled by Mattel to do any real work in this area; I'm not so naive. And I do love Gerwig for doing what I never thought possible — saying aloud, on the big screen, all the bad things Barbie has done to girls. But in the end, this movie isn't about changing Barbie; it's about changing the way millennials (and other Barbie-haters) feel about Barbie. It's about rewriting our personal histories with this doll and making her something she has never been for us — a role model. And if we end up clicking "add to cart," all the better.