👙 on self criticism, and showing a lot of skin
Greta Gerwig's Barbie, Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer, and Sam Levinson, Abel "The Weeknd" Tesfaye and Reza Fahim’s The Idol
29 July 23 | Vol 2 Issue 26
Along with most of humanity I did Barbieheimer last weekend. Should you have spent the last month holed up in an acid pink nuclear bunker, this a portmanteau of the film titles for Barbie and Oppenheimer.
Both movies reminded me of The Idol. Perhaps not as an outlandish observation as it seems. I’ll explain. Be warned, there will be spoilers. So perhaps endure a marathon pink-mushroom-cloud-nipple-central binge feast before reading on. Although my revealing that Oppenheimer does indeed succeed in building the atomic bomb may not spoil the film for you.
Consider this an addition to the already existing thousand pink think pieces on the cultural impact, slash war going on. Let’s start with a delightful contrivance, amongst all the talk of social media echo chambers and cultural divides, we’re talking about Barbieheimer. A month ago the press were basking in stories of Tom Cruise’s battle to get Oppenheimer ousted from all the IMAX theatres so his Mission Impassable could rule the roost.
Then some wag coined Barbieheimer. I’m suspecting as a joke? But the internet does what it does, and before you know it, it’s a thing. Why joyful? The vernacular of the summer blockbuster is winning, waged like a war. Instead the talk is not of Barbie versus Oppenheimer, but of Barbie and Oppenheimer. That these films are equal playmates and they should be seen side by side, equal in standing. Barbie x Oppenheimer if we want to be fashion conscious. Pushing out all the talk of Nolan versus Cruise. No more privileged white men measuring their penises in public (we'll return to this later, metaphorically mind). We have instead a public enthusiasm to see these completely different films back to back. You really couldn’t pick two more contrasting films to pair.
I broke my own rule. I went to Barbie with a closed mind, fully expecting to hate it. I fucking loved it. Against all expectations. I can’t decide whether the trailer was brave resistance kicking against the trend to reveal the entire film, or instead (spoiler!) revealing a large part of the narrative is set in the real L.A., and not the Barbieland of the trailer which could put off the expected audience of young and tweenie girls.
I've also concluded that the order you see them in, will weigh in on which you end up preferring. I saw Oppenheimer first. It's a masterpiece of film making, constructing a puzzle box of overlapping themes. Its trailer is also misleading, coming across like Danny Boyle's Sunshine on drugs, whereas it turns out to really be a courtroom drama. After Seeing Barbie with its (admittedly lesson 101) feminist message, Oppenheimer was transformed into a courtroom drama about two privileged white men dick measuring.
I'm not actually not sure what Oppenheimer is about, what I'm meant to take away from it. Part race-to-win-the-war, part dick measuring courtroom drama, with some nuclear-war-is-bad tacked onto the end. My nephew Elliot who is very astute when it comes to the meta analysis of films, says we should be viewing it as a character study. Given Nolan is sometimes criticised for writing utterly flat characters — Cobb has a wife, full stop. The Protagonist, well, he's the protagonist — and that he directed the three Batman movies just to get the experience in action films so he could make Inception, let's hope this is a dry run for something amazing and character driven from him soon.Â
As far as the war is bad, no nukes message, I'm reminded of Enola Gay, the song by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Given it was perceived at the time of release as a gay anthem, we can assume its anti-war anti-nukes message failed to hit its target [1 ]. Which leads to the reasoning why I think The Idol belongs in the same set as Barbieheimer.
If you aren't familiar with The Idol, it's a much derided HBO show about a scantily dressed megastar (think Britney) who is targeted by a Manson-esque Svengali. There was much furore about a change in director and chaos on set. Much of the derision comes from the overtly sexual content, words like disgusting, cringey, and nasty slung at it. It's nipple central with the star barely keeping her lingerie on. The camera on several occasions literally follows her crotch as she crawls across the floor. The Weekend stars as the cult leader.
If you park the gratuitous sexuality, then I think a lot of the criticism is the internet doing what it does, making it a thing. I watched it as author Susan Finlay, whose novels I adore, told me it was "giving Spring Breakers". Which was reason enough for me.Â
A lot of ludicrous tosh has been said about it. That it was cancelled after five episodes. Which means people actually think it's entirely filmed and edited in the week preceding the next episode. Occasionally what could be been a great show shone through, there's a great scene worthy of Tarantino — which given his reputation of getting actresses to do unnecessary foot fetish scenes and his too close association with Weinstein seems somewhat fitting in context — where "the family" debate wether the death of Eric Clapton's son is a price worth paying for him to write "Tears in Heaven" (given he's a racist he can fuck off as far as I'm concerned, along with any song he wrote, sorry appropriated from the blues, aka Black music [2 ]). The Idol is as trashy as fuck, and frequently 50 Shades cringe worthy. Given The Weekend is on the soundtrack for 50 Shades, this should perhaps come as no surprise. But I did feel it was viewed through a the-internet-says-its-bad lens. Had it been made in the 70s it would be lauded as a camp pulp fave. It's pretty much straight up grindhouse, not far off Dario Argento's seedier moments, who is now lauded for his 70s exploration classics.
The series is in part about how overtly sexual material is used to promote pop music. This is where the problem arises. To portray the crass use of overly sexualised publicity, it uses, well yes, overtly sexual scenes. It tries to criticise the very thing it itself is portraying.
And here we are back to Barbieheimer. Oppenheimer is an anti war film (I think) that portrays war in an exciting way. We see the race to develop a nuclear weapon before the Nazis have one. A sort of Ocean's Eleven of the H-bomb. It is virtually impossible to film war without glamourising it. Making it exciting. People tell me the new All Quiet on the Western Front succeeds in not making it glamorous, I haven't watched it as I hate war films for the very reason I mentioned. The only movie I've seen that works as an anti war film is Catch-22, the rest all fall into the trap of it becoming an action film. Admittedly the bomb is second fiddle to whether Cillian Murphy has a bigger todger than Robert Downy Jnr. He does by the way.
I've always admired Nolan's refusal to add a "Do you mean that..." scene where a minor character explains recent plot points to another minor character, so slower members of the audience can keep up. In Oppenheimer he undoes this by having the clumsiest ever lead into The Protagonist™s famous quote. In an entirely superfluous for the plot scene, his lover picks a random book off the bookcase (while naked of course), opens it at a random page, finds it's written in Sanskrit, points to a random paragraph in a language she can't read, and asks what does this mean, ‘Now I Am Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds.’ he intones.
Unsurprisingly Hindus aren't delighted by having a topless Florence Pugh finger their holy scripture. This isn't why I think it's like The Idol, although it's up there with its most gratuitous sex scenes.
Oppenheimer suggests nuclear weapons are bad whilst making their invention look sexy. The Idol says the music industry is exploitative for using degrading sexual imagery to promote women singers, while weaponising crotch shots and spankings. Which leaves Barbie.
Which is overtly feminist. Actually I found Barbie to be far more important in today's world than Oppenheimer. If we are going to get rid of rich, privileged, old, white men from having the power to fund wars and bombs, then we need to start with grassroots feminism. Which means educating girls at an early age not to accept the shit the patriarchy throws at them. Barbie scores every goal in this game. With a deft hand, or foot if we’re going to keep the football metaphor. Nolan is a master filmmaker, he is technically and artistically brilliant. Greta Gerwig's movie is inconsistent and patchy, and is way more fun and miles ahead relevant.
Unfortunately it is also propaganda for an atomically anatomically disproportionate plastic doll. There are studies that imply the unrealistic figure of Barbie directly affects young girls, and leads to their negative self body image. [3 ]
This is the paradox that runs throughout the film. Can we divorce the political message the film gives out, from the commercial product it pedals? My only real bugbear is amongst all the thin model-like Barbies, there's a single plus-size actor. Not curvy, but overtly plus-size. This seems like lip service. Given there is a "curvy" Barbie doll, who is shaped more like Christina Hendricks than Sharon Rooney, it seems to be putting all its diversity into a single character. Could there not have been a continuum of body sizes?
Unlike The Idol and Oppenheimer there is reason to debate that whatever the setting, or vehicle, in getting the feminist message out is valuable and necessary — in the end justifying the means. Pretty much the Oppenheimer reasoning in inventing the atomic bomb.
Which brings me to what interested me the most about The Idol. It has a feminist twist ending. The execution of which made no narrative sense. I'll recap it here, only in terms of my final observation. The Cult Leader starts to fall apart, but as his last desperate play, he gets The Star's fawning but abused male assistant (who wants to be a singer too) to frame The Star's actor ex-boyfriend for rape.
The Star's only loyal assistant (female) tries to call out said fawning framer, but is stopped by Cult Leader's lackeys. She then tries to tell The Star her ex is being framed for career destroying rape by The Cult Leader and Fawner. The Star is too busy putting on a soft porn floor show to sell her troubled tour to the backers to listen. So loyal friend exits, leaving a resignation note on her pillow.
The Fawner then, rather than be uncovered, is given a role as one of the support singers on the tour (after performing a distinctly mediocre rendition of Oh My Sweet Lord. Oh My Sweet Lord indeed). The Star triumphs. She talks about adversity and overcoming at her comeback concert.Â
One of the things I liked about it was how The Weeknd's character was weak, and entirely dislikable. How refreshing it was to see a pop star write a role for themselves as an unpleasant shithead, and not be the usual awesome / talented / handsome / sexy alter ego we would expect.
Now I would like to think that the dismissal of the loyal aide, the back-stabbing accession of the fawning assistant, The Star's complete ignoring of the ruination of her ex's career which she could have stopped with a single statement, is in fact the hidden message of the show. That to achieve superstar level of fame you have to forge any moral compass. What is important is success at any cost, throwing anyone under the bus who can't help you, and rewarding the most vile people if they can help you on the way up. That the entertainment industry is everything Weinstein signals it is.
But the ultimate scene reveals that the Cult Leader was really a simple dupe, under The Star's control all along, unknowingly doing her bidding, and, sigh, true love between them prevails. Given this, I can only conclude that this tableau of false rape accusation and corruption is in fact lazy script writing, where any moral implications can just be jettisoned, in order to hastily get to the true love triumph star finale.
Concluding that the show is as shallow, empty, and heartless as the corporations it pretends to critique. It is a hollow simulacrum of the Hollywood system. It is the show we deserve for not supporting the writers as they strike, idolising stars, and celebrating celebrity culture. Sunset Boulevard on acid indeed.
In this context Barbie is a war film.
If you're not sure check some of the reviews from men on Letterboxd, I particularly enjoyed Gurdeep explaining how it gets feminism wrong. He does think Margot Robbie is hot though. letterboxd.com/gurdeep/film/barbie
Watch Barbie to join the debate on whether the ends justifies the means. Watch The Idol for an unintentional damning indictment of the corporate entertainment machine people are accusing Barbie of being. Watch Oppenheimer because it was shot on really big cameras.
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This week featured
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbie
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greta_Gerwig
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Nolan
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._Robert_Oppenheimer
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Weeknd
Our heroes are Barbie and Oppenheimer. Drawn by artist in residence, Fatima Fletcher. Show your appreciation by following fatima.fletcher on Instagram. Her work is for sale at fatimafletcher.com, where she’s available for commissions. Her wonderful orchid place mats are for sale at fatima-fletcher.square.site/s/shop.
Buy me a coffee at www.buymeacoffee.com/vfnIE9P0Ta
References
Well, the only one of those I watched was Barbie. A visual delight but such a confused message, such a circular argument. Was (Stereotypical) Barbie's existential angst cured by her return to the 'real' world? Is Barbie pro-feminist or anti-feminist? The film sits squarely on the fence. Does Ken's patriarchy exist in such blatant form or is it a homoerotic fantasy? Is it really about a mother/ daughter reconciliation? All these questions (and more) were asked but none were answered.