If you check out this site's Oppenheimer review, you'll know that my skepticism of Barbenheimer and exhaustion at its omnipresent marketing was at a fever pitch arriving to the theater to watch both films in a row. You'll also know how highly I thought of Nolan's movie, which I saw first and gave me hope that the double feature would live up to its dual promises. 

Barbie, while no doubt a fun summer movie, is hardly more than that, and its corporate IP trappings prevent its otherwise great director, Greta Gerwig, from reaching the achievements of her previous directorial outings in Lady Bird or Little Women. 

It's not clear how much of Barbie's shortcomings are the fault of Gerwig, her romantic and creative collaborator Noah Baumbach, or the cast and crew. The movie is based on uncertain footing, to say the least: Barbie, a line of toys from Nasdaq-listed multinational manufacturer Mattel, has long been criticized for portraying unrealistic, sexualized standards of the female body and marketing those standards to young girls. The company resisted change for decades since the doll's launch, finally acquiescing in 2016 (after sales had been plummeting for years) and introducing several new body types. 

Gerwig and team have centralized this troubled history to the plot of Barbie, which follows "Stereotypical Barbie" (Margot Robbie, of course) as she begins feeling that something is awry despite the wonders of the female-led Barbieland where she resides. Seeking the input of "Weird Barbie" (Kate McKinnon, also of course), the protagonist Barbie learns that the answer likely lies in the Real World, where she must travel to cure herself and make sense of her feelings. She does so — accompanied by her platonic boyfriend Ken (Ryan Gosling) — only to discover that the Real World is far more hostile to women that she expected. While this upsets Barbie, Ken is enraptured by the patriarchal tendencies of reality, and returns to Barbieland to rally the other Kens and usurp the girl power that oppresses them. 

Along the journey, there's plenty of winks and nods to Barbie's historical shortcomings, including a high school teen (Ariana Greenblatt) spitting out critiques of Barbie's "fascism" and the narrator (Helen Mirren) making tongue-in-cheek fourth-wall comments about Margot Robbie's unrealistic beauty. Mattel — whose production company financed the film and whose bottom-line will no doubt benefit from the film's success — is portrayed as a gray, bleak, cubicle-lined workplace whose entire executive team is suit-clad yes-men (led by a funny Will Ferrell). 

But these winks and nods never get more interesting, thoughtful, or critical than just winks and nods, and in fact, most of the film ends up feeling like a big-budget advertisement. An early scene, for instance, shows a Barbie litigator in front of the Barbieland Supreme Court, proudly announcing that corporations are not people and therefore do not have the right to free speech. The Barbie audience applauds the fact that Citizens United doesn't exist in Barbieland, ironic of course because we're watching a movie that feels exactly like a corporation's exercise of free speech to make a self-congratulatory critical darling two-hour ad. Ferrell's portrayal of the CEO, too, is clever buffoonery masking the fact that Mattel's actual CEO is a white man, as is its CFO, CTO, CSCO, and President. 

The film's corporate politics are even more eyebrow-raising when matched to its feminist claims. Even though Robbie and her real-world counterpart, played by America Ferrera (whose biggest role was the comically unattractive and style-less Ugly Betty), are technically the center of Barbie, all the funniest punchlines, most interesting character development, and core screentime are given to Gosling's Ken — including a cutaway gag that reveals the Mojo Dojo Casa House set has been a bestseller in the Real World. Success is still measured in money for a company, in the movie's logic. 

And Ken never really gets a comeuppance even in Barbieland, despite trying to start a literal patriarchal government. The best that Ferrara gets, in the meantime, is a monologue that's evocative of a 2000s slam poem. (To be fair, though, the supporting cast of Barbies, including Issa Rae and Hari Nef, is way more charismatic and interesting than the totally flat Simu Liu and Kingsley Bed-Adir, who play other Kens.)  

All of these concerns mostly don't get in the way of the actual raw enjoyment of the movie, which is made with a lot of wit and style. Gerwig transparently borrows some of the most fun stylistic elements from all-time greats like Singin' in the Rain, including large musical setpieces and choreographed numbers that are so joyful and unrelated to the plot that they're reminiscent (in a good way) of Bollywood moments. Set design is rich and immersive, especially practical effects used to simulate the portal between the Real World and Barbieland. Costumes are completely perfect, as is hair and makeup; should be no surprise for a film based on consumerist style, but still worthy of every commendation. 

The soundtrack is brilliant, especially Gosling's power ballad "I'm Just Ken", but also total bops from Charli XCX (as always, singing about being hot and driving fast), Ice Spice and Nicki Minaj (interpolating Aqua's "Barbie Girl", for which Mattel sued MCA in the 90s), Billie Eilish, and Sam Smith. The album as a whole may be the most impressed I've ever been by Mark Ronson, who scored the film. 

Gerwig knows what she's doing, and does it well. The box office agrees, to the tune of ten figures and counting. But this is not the best use of her skills, and while it's fun for a one-off, no doubt sets up will be an increasingly grating new Mattel Cinematic Universe.