Barbie, Pt. 3: My Barbie Review

After Part One (an act of listening) and Part Two (a reflection on the formative influence of toys), here's Part Three—far too many words from me about why I love Greta Gerwig's 'Barbie.'

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

— Gandalf

But what if the time we’re given isn’t enough, Gandalf?

I’ve been stalling for time, hoping to write the Great American Review of Barbie. But despite my prayers, I was not granted an extra month of summer. I have a book deadline looming, and many new chapters to write. School is in session, and I have stacks and stacks of essays on my desk awaiting my attention and constructive criticism.

So here we go, Gandalf. I come to you with a whole bunch of words that I call “The Best I Can Do in the Time That’s Been Given Me.”

It’s time to wrap up my three-part series on Greta Gerwig’s now-billion-dollar blockbuster—Barbie—if anyone’s still up for a review.

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A quick review of this three-part series so far…

In Part One, I listened.

That is, I focused my attention on Barbie perspectives from women whose opinions I was particularly keen on hearing. This is, after all, a movie about the challenges of being a woman in a world dominated by centuries of patriarchy. It’s important to hear from men who are thinking about these issues with patience and discernment. But it’s more important, in this case, to hear from women, and from other viewers disadvantaged by patriarchal systems, to see if this work of art rings true to them.

I’m a man. I can listen. If I have to. I guess. [Image from the Warner Brothers trailer; caption influenced by The Red Green Show.]

In Part Two, I considered my half-century of engagement with toys, particularly action figures. Having been conditioned in childhood by American culture—and especially by cultural Christianity—to avoid toys for girls, I’m not surprised that I avoided the Barbie-verse as if those dolls were a toxic threat to me. I wanted to reconsider why I grew up not just uninterested in, but actually troubled by the Barbie phenomenon. And wanted to consider how the toys I played with shaped my imagination—for better or worse.

And now, as I embark on writing Part Three, I’ve seen Barbie on the big screen three times:

• once on my own,

• once with several “Kens” who are like brothers to me, and

• once with Anne (who has never been a Barbie fan).

Me and three more Kens — musician and web designer Carl-Eric Tangen; English professor and guitar-strummer Dr. Traynor Hansen; and Veterans of Culture Wars podcaster Zach Malm — after a wild night at the cineplex seeing Barbie.

Each screening led to high-spirited conversations and a desire to read more and more reactions, responses, and interpretations. All of this only amplified my interest in going back for more. (I’ve also added several essays about the film—including Alissa Wilkinson’s and Fran Hoepfner’s—to the syllabus for my academic writing course this quarter. Students are intrigued.)

And with all of that experience, I’m realizing that much of what I might say about Barbie has already been said—and said better—by other critics. Nevertheless, I need to write about Barbie. Why?

First, I feel a burden of representation here: Contrary to what some loud, arrogant, and apparently terrified “Christian” men want you to believe, it turns out I’m living proof that you can be fifty-something, white, male, a believer in Jesus… and an enthusiastic Barbie fan.

And secondly, I want to express my gratitude.

Because Barbie made me

• laugh (a lot, in fact—for 114 minutes) at things worth laughing about;

• cringe over things worth being disgusted about (particularly the arrogance and injustice inherent in gender-based hierarchies); and

• hopeful, because the theater was packed—all three times—with women and girls who were seeing and hearing the truth about their inherent beauty, their worthiness, their gifts, and their capacity to effect meaningful change. I suspect that, for some of them, it might be the first substantial provocation on such potentially liberating ideas.

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Ready, Rotten Tomatoes? You’ll find your pull-quote here…