by We can all agree that 2023 was a good year for movies. Critically and commercially, several films performed well, and only one of those successes took place within the Marvel cinematic universe. Even among the 10 best picture Oscar nominees, announced Tuesday, there were nine really good films.
Is it safe now to call “Barbie” the outlier? Can I say that, despite the appealing cues and enjoyable elements, it was neither coherent nor accomplished anything interesting, without being dismissed as a) bad, b) old, c) hateful, or d) humorless?
Every once in a while, a film is so anticipated, so welcome, and so celebrated that disparaging it seemed like a deliberate provocation. After “Barbie” so positively lifted box office numbers, it also felt like a deliberate rejection of the need to make Hollywood solvent after a hellish season. And it felt like a political statement. Not liking “Barbie” meant dismissing the power of patriarchy or dismissing modern feminism. Either you were anti-feminist or too feminist or you were just not the right type.
Few dared to rain in Barbie’s hot pink parade.
Those who openly hated him, mostly did so for reasons they had do with which “To defend.” They abhorred her (strangely anachronistic) third-wave feminist politics. They despised her commercialism and feared the prospect of future movies on Mattel properties such as Barney and American Girl dolls. They hated the idea of a movie about a sexualized pin-up doll whose toy laptop or Working Woman (“I really talk!” packaging could not hide the stereotypes under the attire.
For those who hailed it, there was a manic quality to the enthusiasm for “Barbie,” less “I liked it” and more “I support it.” How fabulous are her pro-consumer policies, her I-can’t-believe-they’re-letting-us-do-this microsubversions, her prepackaged combination of gentle satire and girlish spunk. She loved them by recovering dolls and pink Bazooka-gum, her rainbow magic diversity, its smug assurance that everything it contained was legitimately feminist/feminine/good. They approved of the fact that the quirks of the weird Barbie could erase the perfection of the stereotypical Barbie in some unspoken political balance. That by being everything to everyone, a plastic doll could validate the unique and irrepressible individuality of each child. To each of her her own Barbie!
And now there’s a new Barbie cause to rally around: the Big Oscar snub and what does it all mean and why is it wrong. Neither Margot Robbie nor Greta Gerwig It was nominated for best actress or best director, respectively. “How is that possible?” exclaimed a television presenter.
“For many, the snub toward the couple further validated the film’s message about how difficult it can be for women to succeed in… and be recognized by – their contributions in a society saturated with sexism”, CNN explained. Ryan Gosling, nominated for best supporting actor for his role as Ken, issued a statement calling out slights and greeting colleagues.
But wait. Wasn’t another woman, Justine Triet, nominated for best director (for “Anatomy of a Fall”)? As for “Barbie,” wasn’t Gerwig herself nominated for best adapted screenplay and the always sublime América Ferrera for best supporting actress? A record three of the best picture nominees were led by women. It’s not that women were excluded.
Every time a woman fails to win an award does not mean a failure for femininity. Surely we women are not so pitiful as to need a certificate of participation every time we try. We’re well past the point where a female artist can’t be criticized on her merits and she can’t be expected to handle it as well as any man. (Which means she still hurts like hell for both sexes, but not because of her sex.)
Margot Robbie had much less to do in “Barbie” than in “I, Tonya,” so justifiably received an Oscar. In this film, she was charming and absolutely good, but that doesn’t make her a rare dramatic achievement.
With “Barbie,” Gerwig upped her commercial game from acclaimed art house to bona fide box office hit. She was evidently ambitious in her conception of what could have been a total disaster. She got people back to the movies. These are all successes worth celebrating. But they are not the same as directing a good movie.
Surely it is possible to criticize “Barbie” as a creative endeavor. Saying that despite its crowded arcade aesthetic and musical brilliance, the movie was boring. There were no recognizable human characters, something four “Toy Story” films have shown can be done in a movie populated with toys.
There was nothing at stake, no plot to follow in any real or imaginary world that made even remotely sense. Instead of genuine laughs, there were only winking winks at a single joke that was improbably made into a feature film. The result produced the forced joy of a room in which the audience is strongly urged to “sing now!”
Some critics had the nerve to call him out. The New York Post described it as “exhausting” and a “self-absorbed, overwrought disappointment”, a judgment for which the reviewer was likely rejected as a guest for the remainder of the summer season.
In our culture of fandoms, hashtags, TikTok sensations, semi-ironic Instagram cosplay, embedded anonymous reviews, sponsored endorsements, and grassroots online marketing campaigns, not every critical opinion is a deliberate commentary on a culture or virtue signaling. open society. letter. Sometimes an opinion is not some kind of performance or signifier.
There’s a crucial difference between liking the idea of a movie and liking the movie itself. Just as you can like “Jaws” without wanting to instigate decades-long paranoia about shark attacks, you can dislike “Barbie” without hating women. Sometimes a movie is just a movie. And sometimes, unfortunately, it’s not good.
