Review: Come on, "Barbie," let's go party!
What does it mean to sell out? Some would decry Greta Gerwig's move from mid-budget indies to big studio fare as a modern example. This line of thought posits the director's fourth film, Barbie, as capitulation to the tyranny of big bucks, no more than a glorified toy commercial for "vacuous, hypersexualized dolls." But when you're actually watching Gerwig's movie, it's difficult to take the pink oddity as proof evident of any sacrifice of vision or integrity for the sake of profit. Barbie's too ambitious a creation - in terms of text, tone, performance, audiovisual stylings galore - to support such dismissive readings.
From beginning to end, the summer's biggest comedy bursts at the seams with ideas, saturated with the clear intent of a creative mind given free rein. It glows with the kind of resources seldomly bestowed upon women directors. That doesn't mean the picture's perfect, exempt from criticism, or its enthusiasm is without drawbacks. But, even if Gerwig can't quite have her cake and eat it too, she manages to share a personal, goofy, deeply idiosyncratic proto-existentialist dream with her audience. Better yet, she does it with the attitude of a kid, their favorite toy in hand, eyes widening at the playtime possibilities before them…