🧂 Barbie (2023)

A doll has one bad day and accidentally starts a culture war, which is more than most $145 million movies manage to start.

Directed by Greta Gerwig. Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures. 2023.

🧂 Salt: 6 / 10. A tight, funny first hour that gives way to a back half so busy explaining its thesis it forgets to keep being a movie. and ⭐ Stars: 6 / 10. Genuinely clever and gorgeously built, but the seams show once it leaves Barbie Land.

Stereotypical Barbie had a great day, every day, until the day she had a thought about death, and the whole plastic utopia started to crack.

Greta Gerwig had one of the strangest assignments in modern studio history: make a two-hour movie about a toy that doesn't feel like a toy commercial, and somehow use it to smuggle in a feminist thesis statement past a company whose entire business model is selling girls an idealized body. Against long odds, the first half of Barbie pulls it off. Stereotypical Barbie (Margot Robbie) lives in Barbie Land, a matriarchal dreamhouse utopia where every day is the best day, until she's struck by an intrusive thought about dying, her feet go flat, and she's sent to the Real World to fix the glitch, trailed by an eager, needy, desperately unessential Ken (Ryan Gosling). What she finds there, catcalling, boardrooms, a Mattel CEO in a full panic, is the joke the rest of the movie is built on: the doll invented to give girls infinite possibilities gets a rude introduction to the actual world's rather narrower ones.

The production design is doing more comedic work than most of the jokes. Barbie Land's synthetic beach with no water, the printed-on dishwater in Barbie's sink, Ken's cellophane-wrapped abs, it's a meticulously dumb physical comedy engine, and Gerwig and cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto shoot it with a straight face that makes every sight gag land harder. It's rare to see a nine-figure studio movie build its entire visual identity around a bit, and rarer still for the bit to still be funny two hours later.

Ryan Gosling turns Ken into the film's actual main character, and the movie knows it. He plays Ken's whole arc, sidekick nobody needs, patriarchy convert, wounded little boy just wanting Barbie to notice him, as pure, committed doofus tragedy, and "I'm Just Ken" is the rare musical number in a non-musical that earns its full runtime through sheer commitment. By the time he's crying on a beach in a fur coat, Gosling has quietly stolen the film out from under its own title character.

Will Ferrell's Mattel CEO is the joke that runs out of gas first. The bumbling all-male boardroom chasing Barbie to stuff her back in her box is a fun cartoon for about ten minutes, corporate patriarchy as slapstick, but the film keeps returning to it well past the point it has anything new to say, and Ferrell's shtick starts feeling like a placeholder for a sharper satire of Mattel the movie was too polite, or too contractually obligated, to actually write.

America Ferrera's monologue is the moment the film stops trusting its own craft. Gloria's speech about the impossible, contradictory standards placed on women is well-written and Ferrera sells every word of it, but the scene arrives as a direct, unbroken address to camera in a film that had, up to that point, made the exact same argument through jokes, staging, and Ken's whole storyline. It's the difference between a film showing you something and a film sitting you down to make sure you got it, and after ninety minutes of the former, the latter feels like a vote of no confidence in its own audience.

The verdict: the film's back half keeps re-litigating a thesis it already proved, trading the confident satire of its first hour for a string of speeches, and the Mattel boardroom bit overstays its welcome by a good twenty minutes. But the craft, the design, Robbie and Gosling's total commitment, the year's best original musical number hiding inside a toy movie, never stops being real, and the film's closing turn, Barbie choosing to become human, mortality and all, sticks the landing precisely because it trusts implication again instead of explanation.

So why only six shakers? Because a movie this sharp shouldn't need to stop and explain its own joke, and the Mattel-boardroom subplot is dead weight it never fully justifies keeping. Those are real structural complaints, not a knock on how much genuine invention is on screen here.

So, did Barbie figure out what she's for? She stopped asking Mattel and went to go find out herself, gynecologist appointment included.

Pass the salt. 🧂