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Tag: I’m Just Ken

  • The Irony of “I’m Just Ken” Grafting “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” at the 2024 Oscars

    The Irony of “I’m Just Ken” Grafting “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” at the 2024 Oscars

    There is a long tradition of women emulating Marilyn Monroe’s famed performance of “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. In fact, it is very much a women’s song and visual (even if directed by Howard Hawks) that speaks on things being more satisfying (and enduring) than men. A sardonic sendup of the material girl trope—which is how many men still view women, seventy-one-ish years later (the film was released in July of 1953). This being, of course, why Madonna chose to tongue-in-cheekly reuse it in her 1985 video for “Material Girl.”

    In fact, after that, Madonna not only secured her position as the Queen of Postmodernism (sorry Ariana Grande), but, in many ways, prompted a new generation to forget that Marilyn Monroe was the original pink gown-wearer traipsing about on a pink staircase as tuxedoed men fawned over and followed her around with rebuffed gifts. Granted, Carol Channing (a gay icon with a decided contempt for gays) was the first to bring Lorelei Lee to life on Broadway in 1949, but Monroe eclipsed that performance with her celluloid prowess. 

    Thus, the eternal Hollywood love of paying homage to that segment of the film that helped launch Monroe into “instant icon” status. After “Material Girl,” the next most memorable homage would become Nicole Kidman’s. Specifically, as Satine in 2001’s Moulin Rouge! (during which she incorporates the verse from “Material Girl,” “‘Cause we are living in a material world/And I am a material girl”). Many other musicians, including Kylie Minogue, Beyoncé and Christina Aguilera, have referenced/performed the song and visual as well, but not until 2020’s Birds of Prey (which would also feature a riff on “Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend” by Megan Thee Stallion and Normani called “Diamonds” for the soundtrack) was the re-creation of the performance so blatant again. Uncannily enough, Barbie’s star (one hates to break it to Ryan Gosling), Margot Robbie—as Harley Quinn—would be the one to engage in her own macabre sendup of the original. For added Hollywood incestuousness (or “six degrees of separation,” if you prefer), Ewan McGregor (who plays Christian in Moulin Rouge!) appears in the scene with her in his own modern take on the 1950s-era tuxedo (this one without tails).

    Indeed, he was the one who, as Roman Sionis/Black Mask, caused her to hallucinate such a fantasy in the first place after slapping her with enough force. This after taunting her about losing the Joker’s favor in the wake of their breakup, “For all your noise and bluster, you’re just a silly little girl with no one around to protect her.” The accusation of being a silly little girl (when not instead substituted by the venomous “epithets” of “bitch” and/or “slut”) remains one of the most effortless ways for a man to demean a woman. And demeanment is, unfortunately, on the rise rather than on the decline—a reality that Ken brings to life onscreen with his inferiority complex that ends up causing him to destroy the matriarchal utopia of Barbie Land. 

    The reason? He wants attention, of course (not to mention praise and acknowledgement for doing nothing). For when “silly little boys” posing as men have their ego threatened, most of the rest of the world suffers (see: Donald Trump, who outshines Ken’s tan with orangeness). And when they see that the spotlight isn’t enough on them, they’re liable to mimic the person (particularly if that person is a woman) getting the most attention in a manner so obnoxious that it cannot be ignored. That, to this viewer, is how Gosling’s performance of “I’m Just Ken” came across at the 96th Annual Academy Awards (complete with the additional sausage party “cachet” of Guns n’ Roses’ Slash on guitar). For not only was Monroe something of the original Barbie (minus the rail-thin body type), but she was somebody that men were always trying to co-opt for themselves. Trying to turn into their little doll and take credit for “inventing” her out of the raw clay that was Norma Jeane Baker. But Marilyn was her own creation. It was just often hard for her to remember that with all the men around (including Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller) filling her head with mantras that she was somehow “wrong” or “unequipped.”

    Thus, for Gosling to graft the “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” number for himself doesn’t feel “feminist,” so much as an unwanted and unnecessary impingement on Marilyn Land, ergo Women’s Land (known to some as Barbie Land). Marilyn, who died before she could suffer the inevitable Hollywood criticisms about looking old. Barbie, at least, has the benefit of being perennially plastic so as to uphold her Aryan-centric good looks. 

    Incidentally, during his Oscar monologue, host Jimmy Kimmel made a crack about Gosling and Robbie winning the genetic lottery. But even those (read: women) with good looks and regular plastic surgery upkeep end up falling prey to what Marilyn forewarns of in her illustrious number: “Men grow cold as girls grow old/And we all lose our charms in the end.” Unless, of course, you’re the kind of privileged white male that Ken embodies. Greta Gerwig, by creating “empathy” for such a character, perhaps didn’t fully understand what she hath wrought in doing so. Nor has Gosling fully understood the homoerotic coding (posing as a “butch” interpretation) he’s entered into the canon of “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” performances (already gay kryptonite to begin with, especially at drag shows). 

    Maybe Kimmel foreshadowed as much by making the Brokeback Mountain-related joke (also during his monologue) to Gosling, “You are so hot. Let’s go camping together and not tell our wives.” Because women, as has been emphasized repeatedly in life and in pop culture, are secondary to “men’s things” (which takes on a new level and meaning in terms of gay men imitating straight women). Even when they were originally “women’s things” (à la “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend”) to begin with. Nonetheless, Ken’s “big dick Kenergy” still proved no match for fellow Barbie Soundtrack-er Billie Eilish in the Best Original Song category. But a “What Was I Made For?” win is, in effect, an “I’m Just Ken” win. Because what belongs to women also belongs to men (#dowry). That is, in “liberal” Hollywood, what Gretchen Wieners would call “just, like, the laws of feminism.” 

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Ryan Gosling to sing ‘I’m Just Ken’ at 96th Academy Awards, report says

    Ryan Gosling to sing ‘I’m Just Ken’ at 96th Academy Awards, report says

    March 10 is Oscar Sunday! Watch the 2024 Oscars live on ABC.

    Red carpet coverage starts at 1 p.m. ET 10 a.m. PT with “Countdown to Oscars: On The Red Carpet Live.” At 4 p.m. ET 1 p.m. PT, live coverage continues with “On The Red Carpet at the Oscars,” hosted by George Pennacchio with Roshumba Williams, Leslie Lopez and Rachel Brown.

    Watch all the action on the red carpet live on ABC, streaming live on OnTheRedCarpet.com and on the On the Red Carpet Facebook and YouTube pages.

    The 96th Oscars, hosted by Jimmy Kimmel, begins at 7 p.m. ET 4 p.m. PT, an hour earlier than past years.

    The Oscars are followed by an all-new episode of “Abbott Elementary.”

    OTRC

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  • So The Academy Clearly Didn’t Watch Barbie

    So The Academy Clearly Didn’t Watch Barbie

    Every year, Awards Season is special for one reason: we all come together in outrage against a very specific group of voters, and publicly shame them until we grow bored. The Golden Globes and Emmys are great predictors of who will be ultimately nominated for an Oscar…but this year, it appears that the Academy stopped watching movies altogether.


    When I woke up yesterday, I was bombarded by thousands of Tweets calling for the evisceration of the Academy after the 2024 Oscar Nominee list was revealed. It’s your modern-day mob mentality — and get your pitchforks ready, because there were quite a few notable snubs.

    • Hunky Charles Melton for May/December
    • Leonardo DiCaprio for Scorsese’s 10-hour epic Killers Of The Flower Moon
    • Greta Gerwig as Best Director for Barbie
    • Margot Robbie as Best Actress for Barbie
    • Dua Lipa’s “Dance The Night Away” for Barbie
    • Saltburn, in general.

    Okay, so I was already up in arms about the lack of nominations for Jacob Elordi and Charles Melton. But nothing was more offensive than the glaringly obvious
    Barbie irony: the Academy chose to honor “I’m Just Ken” by Ryan Gosling in a movie created by women, for women, about the struggles of feminism in a male-dominated society.

    This is no hate to Ryan Gosling, who has owned his Ken-ergy in the best, candid way possible. He has supported his cast and uplifted its women during every single press event, red carpet, and personal statement. But the fact that they chose to nominate the one song about men taking over is laughable.
    Commenting on the lack of nominations himself, Gosling took to social media to say:


    But there is no Ken without Barbie, and there is no Barbie movie without Greta Gerwig and Margot Robbie, the two people most responsible for this history-making, globally-celebrated film…To say that I’m disappointed that they are not nominated in their respective categories would be an understatement,”

    Sure, Billie Eilish’s “What Was I Made For” was nominated considering it’s a beautiful, haunting ballad that perfectly fits the film. But the Oscars have proven they’re Billie stans before by honoring her
    James Bond ballad. What about the two women who made Barbie possible? Who revived cinema and brought millions of moviegoers to the theaters dressed in pink? Who created a whole movement surrounding celebrating women after years of being told we should bring each other down?

    Barbie was a statistically bigger first-week success story than its release-day twin, Oppenheimer, and the biggest film of the year. Yet, no nomination for the director and face of the film. It’s almost like the Academy realized this movie was about them…

    Here’s the worst part: you don’t have to let them win if you don’t want to. To not even recognize Margot Robbie and Greta Gerwig’s work and impact on the
    2023 cinemascape is like saying Taylor Swift didn’t dominate the music industry this year. It’s just a lie.

    So I will end this the way Taylor Swift would, with lyrics from “The Man”:

    “I’m so sick of running as fast as I can

    Wondering if I’d get there quicker

    If I was a man”

    Jai Phillips

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  • Barbie: The Album Might Cut It In Barbie Land, But Not in the Real World

    Barbie: The Album Might Cut It In Barbie Land, But Not in the Real World

    With a movie as instantaneously revered as Barbie, it’s only natural to expect an accompanying soundtrack that might do it justice. And sure, the Barbie Soundtrack, billed as Barbie: The Album, is filled with its share of sonic “moments,” but there’s nothing that ultimately seems to tie it all together for a greater sense of seamless cohesion. What’s more, the three songs that stand out the most, Dua Lipa’s “Dance the Night,” Charli XCX’s “Speed Drive” and Billie Eilish’s “What Was I Made For?,” only make the other songs sound “throwaway” in comparison (granted, “Speed Drive” has gotten plenty of hate from those who don’t see the brilliance of a woman who compares Britney and will.i.am’s work together to Lennon and McCartney’s).

    Even Lizzo, who is, for whatever reason, usually counted on for a “hit,” kicks things off with a less than auspicious offering in the form of “Pink.” A track that works much more effectively when one is hearing it played against the scenes at the beginning of the movie, wherein Lizzo reworks some of the lyrics depending on the altered scenario from the previous day—when it was all staring contentedly into a glassless mirror and pretend-drinking from a cup. Not to mention giant blowout parties with planned choreography and a bespoke song. That latter being Dua Lipa’s “Dance the Night”—the most “Mark Ronson-y” number of the lot. And yes, it bears noting that Ronson, who collaborated with Andrew Wyatt, lived “in Barbie Land for over a year,” as he metaphorically phrases it. Trying to ingratiate himself in “the sugar high of Barbie, but also the crash.” This being part of the missive from screenwriters Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach that appears alongside Ronson’s in the soundtrack’s liner notes. But when you learn that the “Adam and Eve” songs of the record (a.k.a. the ones that Ronson initially made for it) were “Dance the Night” and “I’m Just Ken,” it tracks that such a divergent jumping-off point would lead to some major sonic schizophrenia.

    The hodgepodge vibe makes all the more sense when Ronson goes on in his note to freely admit of the process, “…my main job here was to sit with Greta, brainstorm our dream list of artists and hone it down to what scene we wanted it for.” In other words, they would take whoever accepted from their “dream list” without any thought about whether that would ultimately make for a “meshing” soundtrack. But, as Mattel has shown with its marketing blitzkrieg to synergize with the movie, it’s not about what necessarily “works,” so much as appealing to as many “Barbies” as possible. The more variation there is on the soundtrack, the more potential for its songs to climb different charts. It’s all in the name of bad, dirty capitalism. But at least Barbie the movie plays with that a little more knowingly than its soundtrack, so blatantly designed to be everything to everyone (kind of like a woman).

    Needless to say, there are better ways to embody a sugar high/crash trajectory that doesn’t include 1) Sam Smith spitting misogynistic lyrics as “a character” (though, per Ronson, a discussion of The Feminine Mystique with Gerwig inspired the chorus) and 2) the non sequitur appearance of Karol G’s “WATATI,” which, although the beat slaps, features lyrics that don’t really sync with the message of the movie. For Barbie, in this context, hardly gives off the signal that says, “Papi, let’s go to the club to have a good time/A lot of smoke, Aguardiente to get dizzy.” No, instead, every Barbie—Stereotypical or not—is more concerned with other, more meaningful endeavors in Barbie Land, none of which pertain to seeking out Ken for a good time, so much as having him around as an accessory.

    And perhaps that’s what’s most surprising of all about Barbie: The Album—how little it lyrically ties into a film about smashing the patriarchy. Which infects Barbie Land after Tame Impala’s “Journey to the Real World” takes them through multiple landscapes until finally reaching Venice Beach. On her first pink convertible leg of the journey, however, Barbie opts for singing along to Indigo Girls’ “Closer to Fine.” This making the cut for the Best Weekend Ever edition of the soundtrack…except it’s performed by Brandi and Catherine Carlile.

    Following Tame Impala on the “normal” edition though is the generic sound of Dominic Fike’s “Hey Blondie.” A “number” that comes across as though either Ronson was listening to too many Starbucks-sold compilation albums or Gerwig’s mumblecore Sacramento influence infected the mood for this particular track. Either way, the muted tones of Fike only end up making the listener wish Blondie was singing instead of this dude singing something called “Hey Blondie.” Again trying to “tap in” to the Ken persona, chauvinism rears its plastic head as Fike drones, “Hey, blondie, there’s a million eyes on you/Do you ever get curious?/Hey, blondie, there’s a million minds on you/Do you ever get furious?…/Hey, blondie, oh, hey, blondie/Hey, blondie, could you maybe just slide towards me?/Don’t want anything serious.” It might actually be the least listenable offering of Barbie: The Album. Maybe that’s why they up the “star quotient” again by placing HAIM’s song, “Home,” after it.

    Considering how much of an influence The Wizard of Oz was on Barbie (along with many other classic films Gerwig has been happy to advise people on), HAIM’s “Home” instantly connects to the old chestnut, “There’s no place like home.” Something Barbie realizes rather quickly out there in the “Kendom” known as Real World’s system of patriarchy. Even though “Home” is another one of the more standout tracks on the record, it barely registers when actually viewing Barbie. Instead overpowered by the pop-y, synthetic glitz of “ditties” like Nicki Minaj and Ice Spice’s “Barbie World” (a.k.a. the ripoff of Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” that proves: ain’t nothin’ like the real thing). Produced by Rostam and Danielle Haim, the song is tinged with electro beats that immediately draw comparisons to the 2012-era vibe Taylor Swift was pulling with Midnights. And when the HAIM sisters croon in unison, “I’m going home/Take me home, just take me home/Take me home,” one can really feel Barbie’s pain in not quite knowing where that is anymore after her foray into the Real World.

    As though to drive that looming sadness, um, home, Ronson places the gloomy, existential “What Was I Made For?” in the wake of HAIM. A shining diamond among most of the other froth, it does serve a useful enough purpose in sonically revealing the cracks in Barbie’s veneer (that crash after the sugar rush assignment at work again). Unfortunately, the mood is totally killed/shifted abruptly again by the next song, brought to you by The Kid LAROI, himself known for an undercuttingly misogynistic song called “Without You.” Which is certainly the polar opposite of his sentiments on “Forever & Again.” And yet, rather than “serving devotion and romance,” it’s giving creepy stalker who wants to keep “his girl’s” blood in a vial necklace (no Billy Bob shade intended). This being manifest in lyrics like, “When it all falls down, and no one is around/‘Til my breath runs out, six feet underground/I’ma be there, this will never end/I’ll always be there, forever and again” and “‘Til my blood runs cold, I won’t let you go.” Except that all Barbie wants is to be let the fuck go.

    The devoted male tone persists on Khalid’s (who has also joined Eilish on a project before in the form of 2018’s “lovely”) “Silver Platter.” A song that wants to be in the spirit of late 90s “You know I love you girl” artists like Brian McKnight…by way of Ken. Because, yes, unfortunately the rule on this record seems to be that any male artist with a song on it has to be speaking from the perspective of Ken. Case in point, Khalid begging, “Oh, oh/Give me a chance/To prove that I can/Give you the world/If I was your man, yeah.” Its unrequited love aura is in keeping with the spirit of Ryan Gosling’s “I’m Just Ken” (which could still never hold a candle to Gosling singing “You Always Hurt the Ones You Love” in Blue Valentine). And yes, Gosling clearly wants to remind people about the triple threat status that got him the gig on The All-New Mickey Mouse Club in the first place, showcasing his acting, dancing and singing talents once again for the role of Ken.

    Nonetheless, PinkPantheress gives Ken the shaft by mentioning some guy named Johnny on “Angel” (as in “Johnny Angel”). And it’s Johnny she’s yearning for when she laments, “Johnny, my baby, did it always have to end this way?/‘Cause one day/One day, my baby just went away/My angel (my angel)/You’re what haunts me now that you’re away.” The song itself seems as though it wants to represent the overall wide-ranging gamut of genres on the album by sounding like an A. G. Cook-produced, Irish strings-heavy wet dream (side note: it’s actually produced by BloodPop®, Count Baldor and PinkPantheress). Its sweet trilling vocals then lead jarringly into GAYLE’s “butterflies,” a “punk-y” cover of Crazy Town’s “Butterfly”—the song no one wanted to be revived. And save for the fleeting lines, “People feel better when they put you in a box/But the plastic’s gonna melt if you’re the one to make it hot,” it’s difficult to understand how this song fits in at all with the rest. Which brings us to Corporate Success 101: Appeal to Everyone.

    Tellingly, there are few songs on the soundtrack that make it past three minutes, with each one perfectly packaged for easy-to-consume TikTok glory. As for the “eclecticism,” its aforementioned purposes are to tick as many “chart-topping” boxes as possible. With Ava Max’s “Choose Your Fighter,” the soundtrack achieves that potential anew as pop reenters the chat with upbeat rhythms produced by Cirkut. Max then gets on the inclusivity horn with lyrics that include, “I know this world can be a little confusing/ No walk in the park/But I can help you solve the riddle/You’re perfect as you are.” This, by the way, is something Barbie realizes when she sees an old woman sitting at a bus stop (who was rumored to be none other that the real Barbie, Barbara Handler…until fans were somewhat disappointed to learn it’s actually costume designer Ann Roth). Max continues, “If you wanna break out of the box [more tired Barbie innuendos]/Wanna call all of the shots/If you wanna be sweet or be soft/Then, go off/If you wanna go six inch or flat [a reference to the blue pill, red pill choice Barbie gets from Weird Barbie [Kate McKinnon])/Wanna wear hot pink or black/Don’t let nobody tell you you can’t/‘Cause you can.” Unless you live in one of the many nations where women are daily oppressed.

    She then bursts into the chorus, “You can bе a lover or a fighter, whatevеr you desire/Life is like a runway and you’re the designer/Wings of a butterfly [nice nod to GAYLE], eyes of a tiger/Whatever you want, baby, choose your fighter.” So we’re mixing video game metaphors in with doll ones now, too? Yes. Because it’s all about synergy. Which translates to sales—for all things Mattel.

    After a very odd sonic safari, we finally reach the end of the rainbow (because The Wizard of Oz and also rainbows are eclectic, get it?). And it concludes with the ultra chirpy “Barbie Dreams,” which might rival “It’s A Small World” for its relentlessly annoying cheer. Sung by FIFTY FIFTY and Kaliii, it doesn’t feel like the greatest choice to close out the album. Indeed, “What Was I Made For?” would have been the correct decision for the denouement. But, if you’ve been listening to the album this long, you’re probably already well-aware that the “best decisions” weren’t always a factor in terms of “placements.” Yet it’s a challenge to have good placements when most of the songs don’t really fit together to begin with.

    As for those wondering why Matchbox 20’s “Push” isn’t on the soundtrack, one will just have to settle for Ryan Gosling covering it on the Best Weekend Ever edition. Because it would be far too big of a lie to call it the Best Soundtrack Ever edition. In truth, Birds of Prey, another movie in which Margot Robbie plays an iconic character, does a superior job of effortlessly melding all the tones and themes of the movie into the soundtrack. From “Boss Bitch” to “Sway With Me,” Birds of Prey hits all the right notes on cohesive soundtracking.

    But maybe what could have tied Barbie: The Album together is what’s really missing from the soundtrack: the pure bubblegum-ness of Kesha, Britney Spears and Paris Hilton. The latter two (along with Charli XCX) actually appeared in some form or other on the Promising Young Woman Soundtrack. Itself a sort of Real World Barbie homage. Though Emerald Fennell didn’t know it at the time. Nor could she have known that she would also play the discontinued pregnant Midge doll in the film. Which probably made her too busy to weigh in (no pun intended) on the soundtrack’s direction. Though it might have helped in hindsight… For while Barbie might have revived cinema (at least for the summer), it hasn’t quite delivered on a resuscitation of the soundtrack.

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • In Barbie, As In Life, Patriarchy Is the Insidious Force Turning Women’s Lives Upside Down

    In Barbie, As In Life, Patriarchy Is the Insidious Force Turning Women’s Lives Upside Down

    It’s among the few mononyms that invoke an immediate visceral reaction—whether reverent or contemptuous—within people. God. Madonna. Barbie. And, like the aforementioned Italian-American pop star, Barbie, too, is a baby boomer, “born” (just a year after Madonna) in 1959—and yet another girl who would change “the game” for all of womankind irrevocably. And that game, of course, is the one called Patriarchy. The system that’s set up to make sure pretty much everyone without a (congenital) white dick will fail. Or at least have a much more arduous time succeeding. And for those who say that’s just “a copout” “now,” one need only refer to a pointed line in Barbie from a white male Mattel employee: “We’re still doing [patriarchy], we just hide it better now.”

    This admission echoes something Seymour (Steve Buscemi) from Ghost World tells Enid (Thora Birch): “I suppose things are better now, but…I don’t know, it’s complicated. People still hate each other…but they just know how to hide it better.” In Barbie Land, no one hates anyone. Except maybe Ken (Ryan Gosling). The “man” who becomes the surprising (yet somehow totally expected) antagonist as the narrative of Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach’s script goes on. Because, as it is for many an incel, a latent resentment toward a woman who won’t “put out” starts to brew and bubble to the surface within Ken as he not only competes with the other multi-ethnic Kens for Barbie’s attention, but also deals with the brutal realization that Barbie is never going to 1) let him stay the night at her Dreamhouse or 2) look at him as anything other than ultimately platonic background to her Technicolor dream life. 

    As for the Stereotypical Barbie (Margot Robbie) he’s after, she’s starting to feel a few cracks in the pristine veneers of her world. It starts with unwanted thoughts of death as she interrupts her usual nightly dance party with the question no one wants to hear, “Do you guys ever think about dying?” When the reaction results in deafening silence and horrified glances, Barbie saves the mood by rephrasing it as, “I’m dying to dance!” Even on those pointed-toe feet of hers. Or at least, they were pointed—until the thoughts of death came. That turns out to be the harbinger for cold showers, burnt plastic toast, imaginary milk that’s expired and, yes, flat feet. 

    Sharing this news with the other Barbies, they not only shriek in disgust, but also inform her that she’s going to have to see “Weird Barbie” (Kate McKinnon) about this. Weird Barbie is the only one who knows how to fix “weird” things, after all. She’s sort of the Shakespearean answer to the Weird Sisters in Macbeth like that. And also the answer to Barbie’s dose of a The Matrix allusion—except rather than offering her a blue pill, red pill scenario, Weird Barbie offers her a high heel, Birkenstock scenario. The latter, obviously, meant to represent knowing the truth about the Real World—where nothing is nearly as effortlessly glamorous or pretty as it is in Barbie Land. 

    Although Barbie picks the high heel—stay in Barbie Land and know nothing of the Real World—unfortunately, she’s told that the shoes were only meant as a ceremonial way for Weird Barbie to present her with the “illusion” of choice. But actually, she doesn’t really have one if she wants to get her pointed feet back and remove the blatant cellulite that’s started to form on her thighs. Weird Barbie also imparts her with the knowledge that, to “restore order” (a.k.a. “be perfect” again), she must find the sad girl who’s been “playing with her” (“We’re all being played with,” Weird Barbie adds) and reconnect so that the sadness goes away and stops infecting Barbie’s body and mind. 

    “Leaving Oz,” as it were, is no easy feat though. Far more difficult than simply “following the yellow brick road,” let’s put it that way. And yet, there’s no challenge Barbie can’t surmount—even when she’s no longer feeling quite as powerful in her “lusterless” state. “Lusterless,” in this case, being a lot like what Jennifer Check (Megan Fox) in Jennifer’s Body describes as, “My skin is breaking out, and my hair is dull and lifeless. God. It’s like I’m one of the normal girls.” And Barbie was never meant to be “normal.” Even if that’s what “normal” girls have been indoctrinated to believe is normal. She’s supposed to be extraordinary (effortlessly so), precisely because Barbie is Woman. Everything to everyone, everything all the time. And it is in this spirit of how the doll is meant to represent “women” that sets off Gloria (America Ferrera), an illustrator who works at Mattel and rescues B from the execs who want to literally put her back in a box, on a tirade not unlike what Camille Rainville explored with her “Be A Lady They Said” text. 

    A text that, just as Gloria’s speech does, expounds on all the ways in which women are damned if they do, and damned if they don’t. “Be sexy, but not too sexy…” or, to use a portion from Rainville’s statement on how women can never live up to the impossible and conflicting standards (let alone the standards of a “Barbie body”) they’re held to by a merciless patriarchal society: “Be a lady they said. Don’t be too fat. Don’t be too thin. Eat up. Slim down. Stop eating so much. Order a salad. Don’t eat carbs. Skip dessert. Go on a diet. God, you look like a skeleton. Why don’t you just eat? You look emaciated. You look sick. Men like women with some meat on their bones. Be a size zero. Be a double zero. Be nothing. Be less than nothing.” Be whatever he wants you to be at any given moment. And yet, because Barbie Land is actually that rare thing—a matriarchy—the Kens who exist within it have never known anything like what the men of the Real World get to “enjoy” (if subjugating is what you’re into): total power and control. When Ken sees how Real World “functions” upon crashing Barbie’s “Restore Barbie Body” mission, he can hardly believe his eyes and ears. That, all this time, he could have been using his “Kenergy” to “make” Barbie his. 

    The thing he doesn’t account for—as so many men do not—is that no one can really “make” a woman do anything she doesn’t want to (though, not to be crass, the Taliban tries). Not when her heart isn’t really in something. And as we’ve seen happen in many a fairytale/Disney movie, when a woman is figuratively and/or literally locked up against her will (à la Rapunzel or Belle in Beauty and the Beast) by a man who didn’t get the message (she’s not interested), she’ll do whatever it takes to set herself free. And it is Gloria’s speech about the impossible nature of what it is to Be A Woman in Real World that becomes a means to deprogram the Barbies who have fallen prey to Ken’s “message of patriarchy.” With Stereotypical Barbie being the only Barb immune to the rhetoric because she had already been exposed to it in Real World, Gloria compares the way in which the other Barbies become so susceptible to this “plague” to how indigenous people fell prey to smallpox in the 1600s because they hadn’t experienced it before. Luckily, her speech is the vaccine, allowing Barbie and Weird Barbie (along with some questionably named discontinued models) to pluck the deprogrammed ones, Barbie by Barbie, and reinstate Barbie Land to its true status quo (though Stereotypical Barbie herself will never be the same again).

    Of course, the work of having to “teach” Real World men that they can’t always get what they want—women included—is something that Gerwig clearly takes very seriously. After all, she just had a second son with Barbie co-writer/frequent collaborator Noah Baumbach. She must indeed feel the weight of that—the responsibility all mothers have to raise sons who aren’t misogynistic pricks. And yet, it is the mother-daughter relationship that Gerwig addressed with such heartrending efficacy in Lady Bird that appears here again, too. Not just between Gloria and her anti-Barbie tween, Sasha (Ariana Greenblatt), but the one between all mothers and daughters, as Barbie witnesses the joy and pain of motherhood when Ruth Handler (Rhea Perlman), the creator of Barbie and a key talisman from earlier in the film, allows her the chance to feel like a human. Like a woman. And yes, some women “just” want to be ordinary. “Just” want to have children. “Just” want to be, full-stop. They don’t need the additional pressures of Physicist Barbie or Robotics Engineer Barbie. Maybe, as Gloria suggests with a new pitch to Mattel’s CEO (Will Ferrell), it’s “enough” (not to be confused with Kenough) to “just” be Ordinary Barbie. In short, being a woman “allowed” the same luxury as men—which is to be merely “mediocre” without risking condemnation. 

    With Barbie, one hopes the very clear message will get across to younger generations of men and women, who can both understand not only the damage patriarchy does, but also the fact that it’s not always an end all, be all “goal” to secure a romantic partner just because that’s what you’ve been told you “should” do. Alas, will Barbie, in the end, be just another “thing” patriarchal-run industries and governments can point to and say, “See, we let women ‘do’ things all the time” simply because they’ve become more comfortable with “letting” women “talk their shit” as a clever means to ultimately still keep them “in check”? That, one supposes, is something that only time and subsequent generations will tell (if they live long enough in this increasingly hostile environment to do so).

    Genna Rivieccio

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