Barbie

But first, this:

Had the chance to see the beautiful, delightful Barbie movie last night; as I mentioned, mi suegra is in town, which gave the wife and I a chance to go out. Originally, we’d planned to watch Oppenheimer, but it was at a bad time for the theater we wanted to attend, so Barbie got the nod.

Just fantastic. Maybe the best new film I’ve seen in (literally) 20 years.

I’m not sure what I expected: something like Legally Blonde (a film I dislike…sorry, Reese), or the Brady Bunch (a film I *do* get a kick out of), or some giant toy commercial. The previews made it look a bit like Will Ferrel’s Elf movie, and there are some traces of that, at least in the beginning.

"Love Letter;" get it?

In fact it’s none of those things. And what starts off as an entertaining, funny romp quickly ramps up around the halfway mark to something far more. The film is nothing less than a giant love letter to women, to men, and (especially) to Barbie and to anyone who has ever played with and/or wondered what the hell is the appeal of this doll that’s hung around sixty-some years.

Incredibly well-written and directed, superbly acted, and featuring gorgeous visuals, the Barbie film had me laughing out loud multiple times, crying multiple times, and clapping my hands at various parts. It is dipped, nay drenched in irony and yet is so un-ironic and kind-hearted…like Barbie herself, there’s not a mean bone in it.

It’s a movie that helps renew my faith in humanity…or, at least, my faith in Hollywood’s capability to make a great motion picture.

My family recently watched the Barbie Dreamhouse Challenge…a fun little TV series to stream Saturday mornings on the couch after a family breakfast. Prior to that, I had no idea the sheer scope and range of appeal of Barbie, and only a cursory idea of its impact…perhaps because I never had Barbie (or Ken) dolls as a kid. My own children, of course, do…at least since my daughter turned age 3 or 4…and BOTH my kids have engaged in hours of imaginative play with the toys, sometimes in conjunction with a parent (me, a lot), but just as often by themselves. They’ve acquired quite a collection, and include many Barbie-sized superhero dolls in their various adventures and family dramas (there is an extensive network of blood and legal relations between our toys, not to mention histories and backstories). 

Both my kids want to see the new movie, and while some of the nuance and humor will be lost on them, there’s nothing terribly awful in the PG-13 film that I’d object to them viewing. Quite the contrary, actually.

And I wouldn’t mind watching it again myself.

; )