Barbie in My Childhood: A Retrospective Look at Y2K Barbie
Barbie Girl by Alannah Astorquiza
All over the internet, you’ve probably seen the memes about July 21st becoming a box office battle, as many moviegoers are planning a double-feature day at the theatre, lining up for both Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer — as they should. After all, both films are slated to tell the rich story of cultural icons.
On a serious note, aside from the former’s vibrant colour palette, epochal cast, and Gerwig’s proclivity for gut-wrenching American coming-of-age stories, why is everyone so keen on bringing Barbiecore to the big screen in the year of our Lord 2023?
The Chokehold of Barbie
Warner Brothers and Mattel aren’t the ones really responsible for the internet’s newfound appreciation of Barbie. We’ve already been living in a Barbie renaissance for decades. If anything, it began with “Barbie movies out of context” compilations going viral during the pandemic, which makes sense. Most of us revisited old hobbies and childhood comforts to regain some familiarity. While some of us returned to the questionable animation of our youth as a coping mechanism. What better way to process chaos than revisiting the BCU (Barbie Cinematic Universe)?
Yet even before COVID, there was a subculture of adult fans who regularly watched Barbie’s animated vlogs — myself included. For some, the current draw toward “girly” media like Y2K Barbie movies may be a mystery. In fact, coming out of the “strong female character” era of the 2010s, it might even seem regressive.
It’s not.
Barbie is never punished for being feminine in these films. Rather, she discovers strength in her own nuances. For a direct-to-video franchise, the BCU was pretty complex.
Girls devoured Mattel’s Barbie animated films with religious zeal in the early aughts. The most popular of these movies starred “Barbie in Fairytale” retellings. They usually began in the present day, with Barbie coming across her little sister Kelly mid-crisis. In Barbie as Rapunzel, Kelly was frustrated with her art. In Barbie in The Nutcracker, it was ballet. In Barbie of Swan Lake, Kelly was anxious about sleepaway camp.
Barbie always saved the day with a story that would draw you into a computer-animated fantasy. No matter the scenario, it always centered Barbie as a protagonist who overcame inner obstacles and dastardly villains (be it a controlling Mother Gothel voiced by Anjelica Huston or a literal mouse voiced by Tim Curry). Along the way, there were songs, animal companions, and of course, a Prince Charming Ken.
And. We. Ate. It. Up.
Barbie movies of the 2000s are classics not only for their memetic moments, but because they celebrate femininity, love, and having a child-like hope.
Barbie Girl in a Barbie World
A fan-favourite Y2K Barbie film is Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses. In it, Barbie plays Princess Genevieve where she and her sisters discover a magical realm of dance while the king is slowly being poisoned by their evil cousin –as one does when you’re dealing with royal family drama. Though prized for its enchanting soundtrack and everyone’s childhood royal cobbler crush (Derek girlies, rise up!), at this film’s core is sisterhood and all things princessy.
Throughout the movie, it’s clear each girl has a distinct “special interest” or quirk, including but not limited to: horseback riding, reading, painting, insects, and even walking on stilts. While their cousin Rowena attempts to snuff these interests out, vying for propriety and control, the sisters find solace in each other and discover that their way of being princesses is valid. Cue happy ending. Roll credits.
It brings to mind Alfonso Cuarón’s English directorial debut, A Little Princess when scrappy Sara Crewe stands tall before her cruel headmistress and delivers this powerful little speech:
“I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren’t pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses. All of us. Didn’t your father ever tell you that? Didn’t he?”
Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses taught little girls that however they chose to exist, to spend their time, they were still worthy of being princesses. A similar concept is explored in Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper for Princess Anneliese and seamstress Erika, when they triumphed by being true to themselves without diminishing their differences. I mean, the “I’m just like you, you’re just like me” bop is a viral meme for good reason.
The BCU’s approach to girl power was the literal opposite of the “I’m not like other girls” movement. Plus, the acting and music was sometimes Broadway quality — just search up “How Can I Refuse?” from the Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper soundtrack, starring the film’s villain, voiced by the legend Martin Short.
To me, reliving the magic of Barbie movies is an act of defiance. As we shift away from girlboss culture, we ought to interrogate archetypes like the bimbo or a “girly girl”. Otherwise, Barbie, by the very nature of her existence, is anti-feminist.
Listen, Barbie is no Katniss Everdeen. And that isn’t to say there’s no worth in strong female characters — we love a badass.
But to dismiss Barbie for glittering in pink or falling in love is reductive. In a cutthroat capitalist world, where Hollywood keeps the metatextual discourse fresh as ever, we need to lean into softness and duality.
Not “Just Ken”
Speaking of duality, there’s been recent speculation that Gerwig’s Ken will subvert the character’s often flat reputation. No offense to Ryan Gosling, but these Y2K Ken stand-ins were breaking the mold long before him.
Some love interests are more fleshed out than others in the BCU. Derek and The Nutcracker, for instance, are more layered than Swan Lake’s Prince Daniel (who I had to Google because I forgot he even had a name). Or The Barbie Diaries’ Todd, who I choose to forget.
We can break down Ken’s charm in these totally scientific observations:
He treats Barbie not only as an equal but pushes himself to grow in her influence.
He saves the day with her, his strengths complementing hers.
He has a personality and goals existing beyond his love for Barbie.
Conclusion? Ken is Himbo Charming.
In the BCU, Barbie and Himbo Charming had to find their own way before ending up together. Romance was the cherry on top.
In Barbie in The Nutcracker, the late Kirby Morrow plays The Nutcracker, whose goal is to find the Sugarplum Princess and defeat the Mouse King. Eventually, it’s revealed he is the missing Prince Eric, thought to have abandoned his people. His redemption hinges on protecting his people and finding confidence. Eric’s arc directly parallels Barbie’s, since she turns out to be the Sugarplum Princess who restores the kingdom.
Then in Barbie as Rapunzel, Rapunzel and Prince Stefan also have independent journeys. Rapunzel learns to take charge of her destiny, while Stefan learns to break the cycle of war-inspiring grudges.
Basically, the BCU redefined the idea of “If he wanted to, he would.”
If he wanted to, he would … let me impersonate my doppelganger.
If he wanted to, he would … help me break the curse on my Pegasus.
If he wanted to, he would … find definitive proof of my father being poisoned by his own cousin!
Romance wasn’t the end-all, be-all of Y2K Barbie. Her romantic relationships were on equal footing with her friendships, sisterhood, and self-love.
Barbie in Your Inner Child
I’ll be the first to say the animals of the BCU range from “I would lay down my life for them,” to “Dear God, what is my sleep paralysis demon doing here?” Not to mention, there are certain creative choices in these films that are … in bad taste, generously put. Derek’s parrot haunts me to this day. What was the point of him?
Still, many of us keep finding comfort in Barbie movies. These fairytale retellings, however awkwardly animated, were a dream.
There was nothing like being transported into a kingdom of edible sweets or a literal fairytopia. Sure, the worldbuilding wasn’t top tier, but it was enough to get my seven-year old’s gears shifting. You felt safe knowing there was always going to be some way Barbie could get through her challenges.
In Barbie’s stories, believing in the best of others wasn’t stupid. It was brave.
Even though Rapunzel’s painting dresses montage instilled in me an unrealistic idea of design, I came away with wonder and respect for fashion. I never did have to face a mouse king and his annoying bat sidekick (a rip-off of Bartok in Anastasia), but I saw first-hand how to deal with an army of bitter men.
And of course, I still dance in my room to Barbie’s criminally underrated scores.
Pretty & Pink
To me, reliving the magic of Barbie movies is an act of defiance. As we shift away from girlboss culture, we ought to interrogate archetypes like the bimbo or a “girly girl”. Otherwise, Barbie, by the very nature of her existence, is anti-feminist.
Meghan Dillon for Evie Magazine outlined the tumultuous relationship Barbie has had with feminism. On one hand, Barbie is an everywoman with every career under the sun. She’s an icon. On the other hand, Barbie dolls have long had a negative impact on young girls’ body image. But Dillon points out that these critiques only go so far to ask, “Can you still be a feminist if you’re pretty?”
Dillon reflects on the words of Susan Shapiro, author of Barbie: 60 Years of Inspiration. For Shapiro, playing with Barbies fostered empathy. Barbie taught her to value female friendship deeply: “Female companionship was essential, and a shortage of men wouldn't ruin any party.”
While there’s a whole conversation to be had for their historical lack of body diversity, early Barbie movies still hold value. They show girls that they can express themselves and their girlhood in infinite and complex ways.
Barbie animated media is ever evolving— just look at the Barbie vlogs on YouTube or Barbie Dreamhouse Adventures on Netflix. (I’m not saying they’re perfect for lunch breaks, but I’m not not saying it.) They’ve elevated the female friendships of the aughts, and Barbie’s inner circle is no longer overwhelmingly white. As far as I know, they haven’t even confirmed a romance between Ken and Barbie yet, which is part of the allure for adult fans in that they’re developing an authentic slow burn friends to lovers dynamic, and by slow burn, I mean slow. (I’ve been waiting for confirmation on that channel since 2016.)
Barbie Roberts of the 2020s talks about mental health explicitly, racism, and makes mistakes. She’s just like us, for real. But the Barbie of the 2000s is our older sister who knows how to spin a damn good story.
The BCU isn’t perfect by any means, even if it did give us Bibble. The franchise was likely born, in no small part, due to the ‘90s wave of girl power, but it was also a killer marketing ploy. It gave us much to cringe at (see: Todd), but it also gave us so much to live, laugh, and learn from.
It really is a Barbie world. And we’re just living in it.
TLDR: If you’re yearning for more Barbie content, before or after you watch Margot Robbie embody the prolific blonde, look no further. The content’s there. It’s been there. Right on Kelly Sheridan’s IMDb page.
