Why We Needed ‘Barbie’
With awards season in full swing and the Oscars approaching quickly, the most vibrant nominee for Best Picture has become a hot topic once again. If you saw Barbie in theaters, you were likely surrounded by a crowd dressed in their finest pink attire, ready for a two-hour tour of the dream house that Greta Gerwig built so beautifully. Although it’s sugarcoated with comedy, an imaginative set, beautiful costumes, and a star-studded cast, Barbie confronts a sad truth: we still live in a man’s world. The film isn’t claiming that all men have it easy, nor that it’s impossible for women to be successful. Life is hard for everyone— that’s the human experience.
When I was young, I was told I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up. Growing up has made me realize that while I can be whatever I want (there are more female CEOs of Fortune 500 companies than ever before at 10.4%, the United States currently has its first female vice president), some paths may be more difficult for me than they would be for my male counterpart (10.4% is not that high, vice president is not president). Being in a position of power is not, of course, the only definition of success. However, society could benefit from listening to more female voices. Barbie makes this point glaringly clear.
Hollywood inherently dramatizes everything, but Barbie’s messages about the patriarchal dynamic are based in truth. Women everywhere have been cat-called, mansplained to, and excluded at work because they don’t fit into the ‘boys club.’ If you’ve never experienced someone playing guitar at you, consider yourself lucky. While I don’t think the movie introduced any new and revolutionary feminist ideas, it reminded women everywhere that we’re in it together. The America Ferrera slam poetry-esque speech about womanhood may have seemed cheesy to some viewers, but others needed to hear it. I enjoyed it not only for myself, but for all of the women who have never been validated in their feelings that it’s impossible to be everything women are expected to be. It felt good to be reminded that our experiences as women are not always exclusive to ourselves, but universal among other women.
Barbie wasn’t just for the girls, nor was it attacking men. The movie showcased different forms of destructive masculinity and their effects. Less than 10 minutes into the film, we find out that Ken bases his self-worth on Barbie’s opinion of him. He’s constantly competing with other men for her attention, and he convinces himself that her rejection doesn’t hurt him. Later, his sense of purpose declines further as his lack of ability to land a breadwinner-type job becomes apparent.
Finally, on his search for community and respect, he adopts an alpha-male mentality after observing it in the “real world,” which starkly contrasts the matriarchy in Barbieland. The recent wave of misogynistic male gurus marketing themselves as “high value” have not been helpful for anyone. Their advice of treating women like property and measuring your value based on how much money you’re able to carelessly throw around disguised as self-help is concerning, to say the least. Barbie targets these types of messages through Ken’s story rather effectively. Ken becomes all things that have historically been considered ‘manly’: being in a position of power, calling all the shots, acting like a womanizer, and, of course, drinking beers with the boys (although there’s nothing wrong with guys drinking beer). His new persona all but destroys him until he realizes that none of these superficial patriarchal ideologies will award him the respect or self worth he was seeking.
My gender discourse isn’t perfect or all-encompassing, but I like to keep these posts short. Barbie isn’t perfect either, but I love how its commentary on societal gender roles and expectations are presented in a way that anyone can understand and discuss while still having fun. Whether you’re a Barbie navigating a career in a male-dominated field or a Ken trying to find his place in a world lacking empathy for his mental health, always remember: you are Kenough (sorry, I had to).
