More Than Silicon and Sparkles

This. This, my children, is the iconic article I got to write about Barbie movies for my Writing for Publication class. It shows up in our class anthology, Unpopular Culture, which will hopefully be available for printing at some point or another- because I will be proud of getting to write about Barbie movies till the day I die. Now, without further ado, please enjoy my shpeal about the sheer beauty of straight-to-DVD early 2000’s Barbie movies.

When I was a wee child, I was lonely as hell. I’d ride the bus and, as it was my first year in public school, I was dreadfully, woefully, miserably alone- also because I was 12 and everything is at apocalyptic levels of terrible at all times. And it was there, on some random day with orange BB cream slathered all over my face- I met Barbie incarnate. She was tall, thin, prim, and proper, with long blonde hair and a voice that commanded respect, but with sparkles. She made all the hoodlums and goblins part as she walked, with her bright pink backpack and deep blue eyes, and no one- I mean no one crossed her. Or tried to date her. Or tried anything with her. But that wasn’t her goal anyway. Her goal was to be a princess in her own damn fairytale and everybody else just had to suck it and get with the storyline. 

Luckily, it was a rare gray day where Barbie incarnate saw me- this anxiously orange, pink, and brown chubby unicorn- minding my own business before the bus came. She turned out to be my neighbor, only a few doors down- and my guardian Barbie angel. Nobody would touch me, they wouldn’t dare. She took me under her wing and swore I’d be her little Kelly, naive, confused, tiny- but brave and learning and protected by whatever form Barbie took today. I never wanted to be Barbie, but- she brought her back to my attention.

After we got home some days, we’d trod and waltz to her place and found some sweet delight re-watching, perfectly enough, Barbie movies. I don’t remember what all we watched, but I can feel my being treasuring those moments, even though I can’t name the details. We’d paint our nails like girly girls as actual Barbie went on magical adventures, and we’d laugh, tease, and drool over it all. 

Maybe it was that season that installed this deep sense of magic within me about Barbie movies. How Barbie incarnate had brought me back to Barbie in beautifully shitty 2000’s animation, and I couldn’t look away. Barbie incarnate went off to be queen in her own storybook, and I kept becoming a different kind of character. I’m brunette after all. But Barbie is nestled in my gut different than any other children’s content. I’m a sucker for cartoons and early 2000’s shows- like a true Kim Possible and Danny Phantom devotee- but nothing cradles inside me like Barbie. Which, for a girl half-obsessed with “not being like other girls” most of her childhood, is a tad bizarre. But somewhere- deep within the sparkles, pink and fairy dust, was a magic I just couldn’t shake. 

And it all came back just a bit ago. I’m 21 now, far beyond the target audience of the original Barbie movies, but I just- I felt my gut move when Barbie’s The Princess and The Pauper came up once. Like Julian’s voice made something inside me literally lurch up and fall in love again all at once. When I remeet Mulan, or Beauty and the Beast, or Treasure Planet- I smile and laugh a bit. It’s like seeing an old friend- “Look, you’re still great. My new bigger brain still likes you and can poke more fun at you before but, damnit that smile- you’re still my childhood. You still matter to me.” But Barbie. Barbie was a whole different beast. It was like finding some long-lost sibling I’d been connected to for eons but just never known, like finally- my long-lost twin, “Who are you again? What have I been missing? You never left my heart, I promise you.” Which- honestly- was an unexpected level of intensity when I stumbled upon Barbie again. I didn’t get it, and it made me curious. I had to know, had to rediscover the magic. 

My journey began with Barbie and the Diamond Castle. It was 11 p.m. and my boyfriend was ignoring me. Well, doing homework, but same difference to my psyche at this point. So, I pulled up YouTube and dove into the most sapphic Barbie film ever made. The world can forever divide on whether the main two girls are gay or not, but it’s one of the only Barbie films where Barbie doesn’t end up with a dude at the end- that’s all I’m gonna say. Our cottagecore dreams started here, my friends, as two women sell flowers from their cottage in the meadow and yes, it is just as pretty and idyllic as it sounds. The whole movie’s full of music and friendship and they even find freakishly adorable puppies lost in the woods and just- when I tell you this is a 9-year-old girl’s fever dream of a movie. Us movie critics love to talk about that “male gaze” concept, but Diamond Castle introduced me to ever-powerful, rarely-seen “little girl gaze” that I’d like to see more of in this world, thank you very much. The boys don’t matter- they’re funny and twins so the animators didn’t have to make two characters models, but they could not be there and literally, nothing would change. Not a damn thing. This isn’t a story about two girls saving the kingdom from an evil music muse and then also marrying two random dudes- this is two best friends saving the kingdom through the power of magic, song, and puppies who really need to stop dancing on their hind legs, with dudes who happen to be there sometimes. And then, the girls go back to their rebuilt cottage and selling wildflowers, singing and dancing their days away. Fin. No marriage, no matrimony, no ceremony- just returning to the idyllic little paradise these women built in the woods. Was it a masterpiece? Absolutely not. Those dogs dancing on their hindlegs made me wanna gouge my eyes out. But, was it a wonderful little girl fever dream about friendship and music? Hell yes, and I’m here for it. 

And this began a new part of my quest. Not only were Barbie movies still decently okay, but perhaps even better than the more popular Disney counterparts. I don’t wanna get all feminist with you, but I walk away from about every Disney film thinking I need a partner to complete me. I rarely ever walk away from a Barbie film thinking that. I remember being single for a while and I had to limit my Disney movie intake- because they always made me feel like I needed an Aladdin or a Flynn Rider or hell even a Shang to make my story fully complete, fully worth telling. But for Barbie, the magic rarely ever seems to be in love, at least- not that kind. I could walk away from a Barbie movie with some high-ass expectations for men, like look, you can waltz in here and make funny jokes- but that isn’t enough to get my affection. Did you help me save my family? Did you climb a tower to tell me about my evil aunt? Did you use your capacity for care, for intellect, and for being a decent human being to further my well-being? Do something like that- and then we’ll talk. Not that Disney boys are bad, but Barbie boys- they’re a whole different breed, my friend. They aren’t perfect but damn it, they always care. They always have shared interests, deep devotion, strong work ethics, and distinguished confidence. They’re human- you won’t find any perfect boys here- but that’s part of their magic too. There are very, very few Barbie storylines where barbie winds up with someone she just met. Typically, even if there is a wedding, they make a point of showing how she’s known them, grown up with them, and how they genuinely care about and complement each other. In the one case where it was two strangers, they have defined shared interests and she even goes to live her career dream before agreeing to marry him. The dude’s freaking royalty, with all the wealth in the world, and she leaves him with a non-committal “we’ll see” to go sing around the world for a while because she wants to do what she’s spent her whole life dreaming of first. There isn’t an Ariel falls in love and throws away everything to be with cute sailor boy here. That ain’t how Barbie rolls, not once, not ever. And I’m kinda in love with that as much as anything else. 

Now I base all this off not only one Barbie movie, of course, but off the ensuing marathon that followed my Diamond Castle soiree. I devoured the 12 Dancing Princesses, The Island Princess, The Nutcracker, Rapunzel, The Barbie Diaries, Mermaida, and the one, the only, The Princess and The Pauper. While the 12 Dancing Princesses is a genuine masterpiece with perhaps the most gorgeous soundtrack I’ve ever encountered, The Princess and The Pauper held out as being my all-time favorite in this stiff and intense competition. Sure, it’s basically The Sims 2: The Movie in terms of graphics, but let’s just forget that. I’ve gotten emotionally attached to a number of Sims in The Sims 2, 3, and 4, so I am well-versed in just not giving a shit about visual delivery. 

The Princess and The Pauper is up there with Mulan for me, if not slightly higher even. For one, it doesn’t rely on animal mishaps for the majority of the plot- which is a lovely, intelligent plus. But both share some solid bops, iconic dialogue, and a story that’s both encouraging as well as child-like and full of wonder, and I adore it. It’s got this mix of emotional complexity, stirred with lovable fairytale-ism. If you gave it a Disney graphics coat of paint, you’d hardly tell the difference. 

Could I do a full in-depth character analysis of every character? Of course. Do I long for more JulianxAnneliese content? Absolutely. Am I hardcore Julian stan to the day I die and not-so-secretly have a crush on this man who should’ve set the standard for every male I ever considered dating? Why is this even a question? It’s also a 10/10 plot that makes complete sense, could stand up to literary analysis, and every damn song is stuck in my head, please don’t send help. Even the song lyrics are soaked in rich reality, as nothing is silly, dumb, or basic in the slightest, instead echoing genuine adult human emotions as two girls, the Princess and the Pauper, balance their longings for freedoms alongside their responsibilities to the people they care about. These are not two pretty, ditsy girls who sing their way through the story and then marry princes at the end, absolutely not. These are two well-developed women with their own perspective interests, struggles, and internal dialogues that express themselves, make hard choices, and face their fears to save their kingdom, their own stories, and their futures, with the added bonus of marrying the men they love at the end. 

The opening song to The Princess and The Pauper is “Free” and it about sums up the underpinning themes of the storyline. Anneliese, the princess, and Erika, the pauper, each take turns describing their lives and why they so desperately long for freedom. Anneliese is a princess, but she isn’t an ungrateful brat- no, no. She’s just really busy and she’s weighed down by endless expectations. She’s destined to marry a stranger to save her kingdom, and she’ll do it, but she’s in love with her tutor- and she wants to be free to control her destiny, but she can’t be. She has a duty to her kingdom. She sits in such wealth and luxury because her life belongs to her kingdom, and she accepts that- even as she longs to just study to her heart’s content, marry her best friend, and have one day without needing to be anywhere. And then there’s Erika, who’s trapped as an indentured servant to the greedy, nasty Madame Carp. She’s tired, mistreated, and literally in bondage, likely to never escape this life no matter how hard she works or tries. But she’s fiery, spirited, and wants to make her own life as a singer someday. Even though she longs for freedom, she promises not to just leave and to stick to it, to pay off her parent’s debt as best she can- all while never giving up on her scheming or trying to still be free in small ways only she can see. All of this- this nuance between responsibility and freedom, duty and desire- is laced in one opening song. And I promise you this isn’t just some English major getting too excited- it’s real. All this is really there if you just listen, actually listen to the female characters singing on screen. Up there with “Reflection” 100%. 

Every plot point and movement in The Princess and the Pauper is not only sensical but intelligent. The evil advisor Preminger wants to be king, duh, and repeatedly keeps shifting his plan to adjust to the Queen’s decisions and twists in the plot. He ain’t stupid, and he will be king, damnit. Every choice he makes and how he keeps shifting how he frames the princess’s disappearance was complex enough that it took me a bit to realize how often he was having to think on his feet. The princess and the pauper don’t switch places because they’re bored, but because the princess is kidnapped by Preminger and her tutor, the one and only Julian, decides Erika should be her replacement- a way to sniff out what exactly is going on and buy him some time to save the arranged marriage, investigate Preminger, and, hopefully, find Anneliese. And all this is sniffed out just cause Julian literally sniffed Anneliese’s supposed runaway note, suspiciously concluding that that’s not her usual stationery. 

And then there’s the classic “How to Be a Princess” song, where the one and only Julian instructs Erika on all it takes to be a princess. My cousin lamented to me as I watched it that yeah, she really wanted to be a princess- until she heard this song. Then she was like, “Can I take that wish back though? Like what if I’ve changed my mind??” Because this song does not glamorize being a princess. Absolutely not. There is one line about shoes, one line about dresses, and another about not having to make your bed- but everything else is just an endless stream of expectations, behavior modifications, and requirements. It has such uplifting lines as how you should “Never show a thing you feel inside,” be “charming but detached and yet amused” at all times, and how you “never get to rest.” Real idyllic, yeah? 

I feel like after this long soiree into the glorious madness of early 2000’s Barbie movies, I’ve emerged as someone who would gladly die on the hill of Barbie greatness. I never thought my heart and soul would be so etched by silicon and fake hair, but it was. It turned out there was so much more substance to the Barbie universe than anyone expected, and- I think it really reflects on what exactly being proud of girl and womanhood looks like. 

In nearly all of the Barbie movies, there’s some young girl character that looks up to Barbie and consistently we see Barbie guiding, teaching, and caring for this little girl character. We see Barbie advocating, defending, and investigating on behalf of those she cares about. We see her fight, plan, and advise to save her family, her kingdom, or her friends. We see her make mistakes, grow, become self-aware, and stand up for girls getting to just be human. She never even entertains just being a pretty perfect girl with everything figured out- that’s literally never her character in the slightest. She can be clumsy, overwhelmed, naive, faulty- but she always chooses to care, to grow, and to be brave. There seems to be so much thought put into making Barbie a genuinely strong, well-developed woman that writing off Barbie movies as girly and stupid just, well, just makes you look like the real sexist here. 

The beauty of good Barbie movies is that they show us that there is goodness in being a full-fledged woman. In loving pink and adoring gorgeous dresses and pursuing supposedly frilly things like painting, dance, and fashion. We can squeal at puppies and save our kingdoms from destruction, fall in love and pursue our career goals. Being girly doesn’t make us less than, less important, or less respectable- in fact, we should say a royal fuck you to anyone who thinks that way. In almost every film, there’s some common sexist phrase levied against Barbie and her fellow main characters- usually spoken by the villain. Evil aunts, cousins, and royal advisors will condemn women as flighty, emotional, dumb, uncouth, ugly, or only being worth their money, beauty, or youth. Several villains told female characters to stop reading so much, give up their passions, stop being so emotional, or be more modest, quiet, or reserved. These phrases are hardly ever said with any dramatic zoom-ins or loud fanfare, often just added as little side comments as someone leaves a room, admonishes a side character, or is in-between plotting murder. And these films just make us sit with that being said so offhand and blatantly- almost intentionally urging little girls to realize those are terrible things to believe about women, and they shouldn’t just take it when someone believes that about them. 

And another fun fact- plenty of these villains… are women. I found the fact that so many villains in Barbie movies are women to be oddly fascinating. So often the most sexist and concerning phrases are in fact said by these female villains, leaving the males to just being greedy, misguided, or power-hungry. The worst thing Preminger did towards Anneliese was call her a brat and want to marry her only for money, but several of the female villains are far more blatantly cruel, chauvinistic, and conniving. And, I think that’s part of Barbie’s big motif- that our greatest enemies aren’t evil men or the system, but each other. It’s us women thinking we’re only worth our beauty, money, or youth that kills us more than anything. It’s that internalized voice to “not be like other girls” or to cut ourselves down, diminish our dreams, or resign ourselves to what others demand of us- that’s what really hurts us. We are our own worst enemies, and all those expectations, insecurities, and prejudices we walk around with- those are the real villains we have to fight off. 

While I don’t think Barbie movies will change the world, I think they’re honestly some of the best genuinely feminist content I’ve ever seen. They’re old, grainy woman and girl-centric stories that still hold up to the test of time and humanity. They’re quirky, wack, funny, and also oddly beautiful, nostalgic, and powerful. I think if I’d ingested more Barbie and less Disney growing up, I would’ve known that I didn’t need a prince to complete me and that liking girly things wasn’t ever stupid or pathetic. I wish Barbie movies had set the standard for the men that I dated, the treatment I expected, and the prejudices set against me I should’ve called bullshit. I didn’t expect to emerge from this all as some sort of Barbie soldier, but here I am- willing to wage war against anyone who calls them dumb, girly, or stupid- as if those three words should ever be synonymous. Because they shouldn’t be. Girls have a right to be respected, regardless of their stereotypical girliness- and more than anything, that’s what Barbie movies seem to drive home. There’s no right way to be a woman- other than just be the woman you are, and embrace her- no matter what. Even, and especially, if she steps on some people’s toes to be who she is.