It’s a mood, it’s a phenomenon, it’s the double feature we never knew we needed. For those four people on planet earth still unaware, Barbenheimer is the watching of two very different movies back to back. Barbie is the neon-soaked story of how a simple, stereotypical Barbie doll encounters The Real World and learns the meaning of life. Oppenheimer tells how J Robert Oppenheimer created the nuclear bomb, and was then sold down the river by the US government. Watching Oppenheimer first, followed by a spot of lunch, then back in for Barbie was one of my most enjoyable ever days at the cinema. And for all the obvious differences between these two films, I couldn’t help but notice how strangely similar they were.
This most unlikely film combination really shows the strengths and limitations of Hollywood film. For starters, they both looked incredible. Oppenheimer is mostly people talking in rooms, but it’s gorgeously stylish, and full of pleasing abstract flourishes (Sack the sound mixer though – I missed a good quarter of the dialogue). Barbie is, of course, a riot of colour and girly glamour. The set design and costuming are especially good. Yet there is a sense that everyone took their work here seriously, that each element was deeply, thoughtfully considered. Playtime is, after all, a very serious business. From Barbie’s dream houses to the drinking glasses at the party with the tiny flamingos, scenes overflow with perfect scale replicas of the original toys. Multiple re-watches would be needed to catch all the clever little details.
And yet, both films are deliberately, frustratingly shallow. For all the time-shifting bells and whistles, Oppenheimer swerves all consideration of the moral complexities of nuclear weaponry. What happened to the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, not to mention the indigenous and Hispanic population of Los Alamos, are entirely ignored. We know that JR feels bad, but that’s about it. Perhaps the story is a deliberate, bathetic arc from unlocking the mysteries of the universe to petty Washington power plays and masochistic anti-communist witch hunts. That would perhaps satisfy if we also learned something of the man himself. But though the ending has stark, haunting power, RJ remains a distant, unfathomable figure even after the credits roll.
However, performances in both films are phenomenal. The Oppenheimer cast is frankly outrageous – brilliant, committed performances across the board – as yet more famous faces pop up to join proceedings. Rami Malek! Josh Harnett! Gary Oldman! Cillian Murphy has finally, finally be given – and delivered on – the role of a lifetime. Almost painfully thin, bright blue eyes contemplating the possibilities and horrors of his creation, Murphy is never less than mesmerising. And Robert Downey Jnr continues to demonstrate why he’s the best loved man in Hollywood. It seems less that he has physically transformed into the role, more allowed himself to become the savvy, vicious, thin-skinned Strauss.
And in counterpoint to the confected outrage at Barbie’s supposed ‘anti-man’ stance, I would respectfully point out how entirely ancillary women are in Oppenheimer. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the first ‘I am become Death’ scene. The film also does that infuriating thing of having a man disagree with a woman he met thirty seconds ago, and her immediate response is to sleep with him. We never even find out if Jean died by suicide or murder, she’s that unimportant. Yeah, it was the 40s. But it’s still a tiresome, flattened presentation of two characters I would like to have seen more of.
Ryan Gosling is the absolute star of Barbie, hitting the mark as Ken every single time. He deliverous every ridiculous line with absolute commitment, drawing an almost painful reaction of equal parts pity and derision. You really could not imagine anyone else in the role now. It’s a pleasingly unironic performance, utterly convincing as this needy, showy, half formed thing. Poor Ken, never really understanding himself or the world around him. And certainly not Barbie, for all his protestations of love.
Which takes us to Barbie’s biggest problem. Ken is by far the most interesting character in the movie. In it’s determination not to upset the boys, Barbie forgets who its main character is. Our Barbie herself is appallingly inert as a character. She goes to the real world, comes back again, has an existential crisis-nap (fair) and then grows a vagina. I realise she is literally a doll, but you’d think acquiring humanity would mean showing something of a personality?
I kept expecting the film to surprise me. To have a moment that would really hit home. When Barbie talks with her maker, I hoped we might see her grow old (bit of foreshadowing with the lady at the bus-stop?) But, no. Only a few anodyne, insta-filtered snap shots of family life. Is that all womanhood really is? Would she finally react with unexpected glee at developing cellulite? Embrace the messy, glorious physicality of being a woman? Nope. Just has an appointment with the gyno. It’s all – fine. I just kept waiting for a gut punch moment of power, of resonance, or even rage; but the film is almost willfully simplistic, refusing absolutely to get it’s knifes out, and really deliver on it’s satirical potential. Yet it’s also far too self aware to satisfy as just a bright and breezy tale about a doll. Maybe hopes were too high, but I can’t help but think that there’s a bloody good film in here somewhere. At least President Barbie got the memo: ‘This is Barbie’s dream house, mother-f****r!’
I had never intended to see either of these films at the cinema, but those marketing folks got me. And I have to admit, Barbenheimer really made for a wonderful day of cinema. Minor grumbles notwithstanding, I couldn’t be happier with the shot in the arm this cultural phenomenon has given film. UK cinemas haven’t been this busy for a decade. Barbie is currently cruising past a billion dollar gross – the first female directed film ever to do so. Oppenheimer has already made five times it’s budget. After covid, and now heading into the SAG-AFTRA strike, this unique film experience has arrived just in time to remind us why we love – and need – the movies.
What did you think? Were the memes better than the movies? Did you watch Barbie first? Did you you find Allan to be an unexpected delight? As ever, let me know!
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