Our heroine is molded in the style of Neo of “The Matrix,” or Pee-Wee, from “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure,” an innocent embarking on a journey outside of their cozy Baudrillardian simulacrum. In this pleasantly plasticky and womb-pink dreamscape, anyone can be Barbie, Barbie can do anything, and he’s just Ken.īarbie (Margot Robbie) has to leave the comfort of Barbieland in an attempt to stem the tide of irrepressible thoughts of death that start to creep through her cotton-candy consciousness, disastrously invading her disco dance parties. These concepts don’t exist in the Barbieland, a girly utopia and true Barbiarchy, where only Barbies sit on the Supreme Court, win Nobel Prizes and get to be president. Written by Gerwig and her husband, filmmaker Noah Baumbach, “Barbie” works in broad story strokes, which allows Gerwig to experiment with style and humor, creating the safe space for their pointed commentary on patriarchy, misogyny and perfectionism. In this existential exegesis on what it means to be a woman, and a human, Gerwig reflects our world back to us through the lens of Barbie, and in doing so, delivers a barbed statement wrapped in a visually sumptuous and sublimely silly cinematic confection. The director wields the iconic doll like a broadsword in “Barbie,” cleaving through culture with gleeful spirit and savage humor. In Greta Gerwig’s hands, Barbie is a weapon.

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