So, the Barbie movie.
I have no doubt there will be hundreds of articles on Her Campus about the Barbie movie, because it is a movie that is so intrinsically linked to the experience of women and fem people that it has struck a heavy chord in many of us. However, I don’t just want to discuss the Barbie movie; I would also like to dive in to the storytelling and beauty of Greta Gerwig’s directorial work and why it has so many women feeling connected to movies again for the first time in a long time–and where it might fall short.
I’ve been a lover of media for all of my life. I’m an avid reader, a fictional universe connoisseur and above all a fangirl. However, movies have not always been my go-to. I would usually gravitate toward a book or television series first, and I really don’t think I’m alone in this. Movies take commitment and a devoted attention span, and there’s not always a guaranteed payoff. Good movies take a lot of effort to watch and understand, and for some reason I’ve always been able to enjoy that analytical process for books and TV shows despite an innate hesitation towards movies.
However, something in my brain switched when I watched Greta Gerwig’s Little Women in 2020. The movie captivated me in a way movies hadn’t in a very long time. This was in part due to the beautiful costume design, flawless acting and stunning writing. It was also in part due to the fact that I was seeing a main character that made me feel so represented in her struggles—from her painstaking love of writing to her queer-coded failures in romance. I saw Jo March and I saw a young queer lesbian rejecting femininity despite herself, going through the hardship of not being what other people want you to be. I saw myself.
I felt a resurgence in love for what really good media can do, how it can hold a mirror up to its audience and leave us feeling like the indescribable have finally been put into words and action and life.
I could say the same for Lady Bird. Gerwig paints the picture of the harsh realities of mother-daughter relationships with delicacy. I understood Lady Bird’s hurt when she asked her mother, “What if this is the best version?” I saw conversations and fights that were painfully familiar echo back at me from the screen, and I felt understood.
The Barbie movie has done much of the same for so many women. Girls and women everywhere left theaters feeling touched, seen and impassioned. Barbie’s experiences are ones that almost every adult woman can relate back to her childhood. Barbie gives some shape to the oftentimes indefinable pain that living under a patriarchy inflicts. It reaches into the soul at the end and reminds us how magical it is to experience life even in its immeasurable hardships.
However, I know that I’m privileged to be able to say I’ve had this experience. Almost all of Greta Gerwig’s works involve predominantly white female leads that provide a perspective on womanhood that is usually somewhat devoid of intersectionality. This was not something that I wanted to admit at first after seeing Barbie—after loving it and feeling a connection with its message about humanity. However, after listening to others talk about feeling like they didn’t get as much out of the movie as I did, I’ve come to realize just how much of Barbie’s experience is tied to her whiteness, thinness and perceived attractiveness. Unfortunately because the movie is lead by a “stereotypical” (white, cis, able-bodied, skinny) Barbie, it loses out on a chance to explore intersectionality in a meaningful way. Many of Barbie’s actions in the real world could have panned out quite differently if she didn’t look the way she did, something that the movie did not touch on much.
In 2023, it could have certainly done more. I know I felt personally conflicted at times with the rigid gender norms represented in “Barbie Land.” Still, the movie holds a lot of value and many people who aren’t represented by Margot Robbie’s Barbie have still definitely felt understood after watching it. I can say confidently that it has represented a more authentic view of womanhood than I’ve seen in a while. I think its hard for many of us (I can say it has been for me) to contend with the fact that both of these truths can exist at the same time.
More than anything, I hope the Barbie movie is a massive wake-up call that stories about women’s lives are impactful art that deserve to be taken seriously. I hope that it pushes women to infuse their art with their experiences, and I hope some of its criticism creates productive conversations about increased intersectionality on the big screen. I hope Greta Gerwig’s art can be analyzed, criticized and appreciated with the same ferocity as her male peers.
I am happy to say I’m back into movie watching. Gerwig’s art has encouraged me to expand my horizons and watch more challenging movies, as well as challenge movies to do right by their audiences.