Once upon a time in Malibu, there was a magical glimpse into the life of Barbie and her friends. Airing from 2012 to 2015, “Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse,” offered vignettes of the iconic blond doll and her friends that centered around shopping, lounging by the pool, and pursuing a variety of careers. Self-aware, with the dolls musing about how old Barbie must be or reminding her that she is a veterinarian when she called for one, you’d be hard-pressed to find a father who objected to watching it with his daughters. It was quality entertainment.
Thus when “Barbie” was announced, some of us held our breath, hoping the live-action movie would follow in the show’s footsteps. Early trailers and publicity seemed to confirm it. The marketing blitz that turned it into an opening weekend rival for “Oppenheimer” also hinted at a glorious glimpse into life as one of the most famous dolls in history, replete with jabs about Barbie’s impossible career arc and upstanding Dorian Gray existence.
Alas, it was not to be. Kyle Smith, writing in The Wall Street Journal, is correct in his observation that “as bubbly as the film appears, its script is like a grumpier-than-average women’s studies seminar.” Over at National Review, Armond White observes that the movie is “frantic, uncheerful, and graceless,” and that “Barbie symbolizes a culture that devalues childhood and goodness.” He, too, is correct, as is YouTube curmudgeon the Critical Drinker, whose review, titled “Barbie: The Greatest Lie Ever Told,” begins
