Movie Review: Barbie

I am Middle-Aged Messy Bun Wheelchair Barbie.

Very minor spoilers for the most concerned about them. Otherwise, you’re okay. Come on in, the beach is fine.

👚I dressed appropriately. Pink on pink. Too many accessories, including a giant diamondesque ring on my finger (thrift store find)—in my day Barbies had holes in their hard little hands that you could pop bling rings into. Mom usually had to help with that one. I topped it off, of course, with my pink, flowery, Betsey Johnson purse. No brainer.

👛The Alamo showed Barbie commercials through the decades before the movie. I almost teared up. They showed two obscure items that I owned, the yellow camper and the townhouse with the elevator that operated with a pulley. The camper reminded me of that Christmas. I think I was five years old, and I asked Dad why Santa Claus had left the seven pages or so of decals undone and just stacked inside (the dashboard details, the running stripes, the stovetop, etc.). Dad, ever the quick thinker, who had only gone to bed hours before, after putting it together, and who had almost cried after seeing how many tiny little stickers he still had to put on, told me “Santa wanted us to have fun putting them on together.” Mom was so proud of him for that cover.

All the photos show the wrong house, with an overly fancy yellow elevator. This was mine—a three-story brownstone with a dark-pink elevator.

🎀Which means I have to mention the Christmas I received the original Barbie Dream House, probably a year or two later—with both houses in my playroom, I lived in BarbieWorld. Mom and Dad struggled to put that beast together until about 4:30 am. I woke up at 6 am, and asked Mom to see if Santa had come yet. Well, Mom went down the hall in our little ranch house to the living room, stared at my Dream House while counting to five, then went back to her bedroom and LIED to my cute little face. She told me he hadn’t come yet and Santa only comes when children are asleep so I’d better hurry—when I tell you I ran back to my bed—LIES.

Lego flowers blended perfectly with the Barbie flowers. Perfect enhancement.

👙So the Barbie movie made me cry. I admit it. I won’t spoil those points, because they were beautiful. I was also surprised at points to be the only one laughing. I know I’m weird, and it follows that my sense of humor is weird…but this movie is really funny. Subversively, deeply funny. Helen Mirren is the narrator. Come on! Just sit with that. Helen Mirren’s dignified accent femmesplaining Barbies. I’m laughing again just typing that. And mouth-to-mouth given to a hobby horse. I almost choked on that one. It was just me and a couple of guys over to the right laughing for most of the movie. Also, this is a PG-13 movie for very good reasons. Barbie says flat-out “I don’t have a vagina”. Now, every little girl knows this, but not every little girl might understand why she is saying it to catcallers, and you might not be ready to have that conversation with her. Also, patriarchy discussions. Heavy ones. And mild mentions of and references to fetishes. Plus, you need to keep in mind that all trailers for PG-13 movies are approved for adults. I had an extremely young child behind me who was not only frightened by some of the movie, but was frightened by every single trailer, even Disney’s The Haunted Mansion, which looks to be intense. It hurt me to hear her whimpers and tiny scared questions. During one trailer, I heard “Did anyone die there?” in the smallest voice, and my heart broke for her. Save this one for home, where you can skip the trailers, and pause the movie if there are questions. Kids can watch it, don’t get me wrong. But I think this is a cuddle-at-home movie where you’re in control, not an in-the-dark-with-strangers movie.

👚Am I going back to see it again at the Alamo Drafthouse, even if I am again the only person laughing? Yes, a thousand pink yeses. What’s the number one reason? There are plump Barbies, and two different disabled Barbies: Wheelchair Barbie and Prosthetic Limb Barbie, and both of them take center part in a big dance number! And all of the above Barbies don’t then just disappear. They continue to be front and center. Number two: Weird Barbie, played by Kate McKinnon. I never had one, because I was overly careful for a child, but all of my friends seemed to. “I can do the splits and I smell like basement” is one of the best lines of the entire movie, and I stand by that. I laughed so hard when I heard it for the first time on a commercial that I induced POTS vertigo. Also, McKinnon learned to do a straight-limbed cartwheel that took. me. back. I had a Gymnastic Barbie set the year of Nadia Comăneci’s Olympics, and that’s when I first figured out Barbie could do that. I also used that gymnastics set in, shall we say, a manner unauthorized by Mattel. I sat in front of the 1976 Olympics, with tiny gymnasts bouncing all over the place, and I sometimes wearing my ballet practice leotard to be like them…and using the men’s rings (yeah, Barbie had the rings, go figure) as a Barbie slingshot. Barbie didn’t use them for strength or stunts, she went for distance! I would also imitate the floor routine by bending Barbie’s limbs in all different directions, tossing her in the air, grabbing her on the way down and quickly straightening them all for a perfect landing! The judges went wild! My parents didn’t bat an eye at these shenanigans, because it was at about this age, four, that they walked in on me in the same living room perfecting my Curly Shuffle, spinning around on my shoulder and barking to myself while the The Three Stooges played on the tv. So Barbie contortions and flight…no biggie. Later, I would stage car wrecks for Eric. His metal Tonka Jeep fit my Barbies and Kens perfectly, and the back of our chimney was part of our patio. I would do it for him so he wouldn’t get hurt. He would choose who would be the hapless driver this time, then bam! the Jeep would slam against the white chimney bricks, Barbie and Ken would both be ejected from the vehicle, Skipper from the back cargo if we were feeling especially frisky, and he would howl with laughter and applaud and tell me “Do again!” I did again.

👛I said I didn’t have a Weird Barbie, with marker on her face and chopped hair, but I have a couple of Barbies that are…not perfect. Because of Eric. The spongy, rubbery, snap-back sensation of chewing on Barbie ankles and calves relaxed him, created a good chemical in his brain. So he would gnaw when I wasn’t looking. So a few of my childhood Barbies have some scars…and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. He only discovered this soothing skill because he always wanted to be right next to me. Drove this autistic INFJ nuts, but I loved it, just the same. I don’t know what chewing my Barbies gave him—oxytocin, endorphins—but they calmed his hyperactivity, perhaps the seizure storms in his brain?, and let me play or read and lose myself, which I needed to, so. So. The Barbie movie made me cry. Happy tears.🎀