In the wake of yet another exciting awards season (my favorite time of the year!) I have been thinking quite a bit about two films in particular: Barbie and Oppenheimer.
Both movies, known as Barbenheimer when referenced together, have achieved undeniable success, both at the box office and throughout the awards season. They are both well-loved, well-respected, and well-praised movies, and yet, when placed side-by-side, they often ignite conflicting discourse. Especially with the recent uproar surrounding Oscar nominations, I have seen an increasingly large number of people begin to revisit the Barbenheimer phenomenon; however, this time around, it is to critique and tear down these films, rather than to celebrate them.
Don’t get me wrong, these movies are still widely adored by audiences and critics alike. After all, they are both amazing films! But as awards get more and more competitive, and the Oscars loom closer and closer, people have started to compare these movies in a way that—at least in my opinion—feels reductive to both the individual and combined brilliance of Barbie and Oppenheimer.
Before diving into the question of whether or not we should compare these movies (and the best way to compare them, should we want to), I would like to preface this article by saying that these are all entirely my own opinions. I absolutely loved both Barbie and Oppenheimer, so I am writing this from a perspective of admiration for both films. However, you might have felt differently about one or the other, and that is totally okay! Good movies create good discussions, and that is what this is all about!
So, without further ado, let’s transport back to this past summer. It’s July 21, 2023: the sky is blue, the sun is warm, and the biggest question on many people’s minds is: “Which do I see first, Barbie or Oppenheimer?”
to compare or not to compare?
At first glance, there is no doubt that these movies appear very different, and very easy to compare. Even the Wikipedia page describing Barbenheimer draws a stark contrast between the two: “Barbie—a fantasy comedy by Greta Gerwig about the fashion doll Barbie—and Oppenheimer—an epic biographical thriller by Christopher Nolan about physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer, scientific director of the Manhattan Project…”
While this may seem like a suitable description for the premise of each of these films, I cannot help but analyze the language used in the summary of Barbie versus the summary of Oppenheimer (I truly can’t help it, I’m an English major!).
Barbie, which is about so much more than “the fashion doll Barbie,” is often easily reduced—by both this description and certain audiences—to a silly little story about Barbie dolls going on an adventure into the real world. A “fantasy comedy” that couldn’t have real-world implications like Oppenheimer does, right?
Wrong.
Barbie is about a great deal more than Barbie herself, who is, of course, an iconic fashion doll but is also so much more than that. There are numerous different embodiments of Barbie that represent the multitude of dreams, careers, aspirations, and pathways that women can have in this world, a message of inspiration to people, young and old, telling them that they can become whoever they want to be. This framework of the movie, coupled with its exploration of male dominance and patriarchal society, represents much more than a “fantasy.”
It represents real life.
Now, this is not to say that Barbie is on the exact same playing field as Oppenheimer in terms of connections to the real world. The documentation of Oppenheimer’s work, the creation of the atomic bomb, the use of this bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the Second World War, and the start of the Nuclear Age of society—these are all life-changing events that irrevocably altered the course of human civilization. The creation of the atomic bomb is undoubtedly one of the most influential, and consequential, events in modern society, and the seriousness of Christopher Nolan’s film certainly emphasizes this notion.
That being said, I do not believe that the historical significance of Oppenheimer should work to undermine the seriousness of Barbie. While they may not be on the same playing field, they are both incredibly important in their own ways and should be treated as such. The success and reverence for Oppenheimer does not take away the success and meaning of Barbie. They can—and should—be allowed to exist, side-by-side, without taking away from each other.
In fact, I would argue that the only reason people are so quick to pit the two movies against each other is because they came out on the exact same day; otherwise, these two films would not be so intrinsically linked. What was originally a day of celebration for the movie industry has turned into the very thing that encourages people to argue over “which is better,” “which deserves more awards,” and “which is more culturally significant.” These are all valid questions—as I said, good movies create good discussion—but I believe it is reductive to the brilliance of these films to make it such a polarizing discussion.
There is no doubt that both Barbie and Oppenheimer have obvious differences, but they also possess valuable similarities. At their core, they both display the true power of great cinema: allowing us to see our real world reflected powerfully back to us on the screen.
So, to compare or not to compare? That is the question.
I think the answer is a little bit of both.