Article

Creed

Feminism

24 July 2023

5 min read

The good, the bad and the Barbie

At the Barbie movie, Lauren Windle fraternises with her childhood enemy, and leaves pondering change and imperfection.

Lauren Windle

Lauren Windle is an author, journalist, presenter and public speaker.

Barbie stands between Ken and a rival with her hands raised.

Peacekeeper Barbie.

Warner Bros.

Barbie and I always had an unspoken understanding that our relationship would be mutually destructive. She made me feel inadequate; I was too short without a synched-in waist and pneumatic boobs. And I chewed her off her toes. One all.

I have spent the better part of two decades not thinking about my adversary, until once again she reared her (not at all) ugly head. I always celebrate on July 21. It is, after all, my birthday. But this year, the date was eagerly anticipated by millions and not because they share my love of Colin the Caterpillar cake. Last Friday was ‘Barbie Day' and it was all anyone could talk about. 2 – 1 to Barbie.

If you missed the news that there’s a Barbie movie now in the cinemas, clamber out from underneath that rock and let me tell you about it. The film, starring Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling, caused quite a stir with, what I can only assume is, the biggest marketing budget since Nike release Air Jordans. Both Warner Bros and Barbie’s parent company Mattel have thrown money at making sure we all know about their candy-coated flick. The campaign has been so effective that production sparked a global shortage of fluorescent pink paint.

The box office is now raking in cash as people flock to see the fuchsia film. When I attended a morning viewing this weekend, I was one of the few people who hadn’t come dressed head to toe in pink. Not a chance Barbie.

On taking my end-of-row seat (to facilitate a quick getaway) I settled in for one hour and 54 minutes of fraternising with the enemy. I’ll level with you, Barbie had made some effort to change. The vibrant colours (mainly in a rosy hue) were still in place, along with the glossy hair and impossibly smooth legs. But there was a new self-awareness and self-deprecation that hadn’t featured in our childhood tea parties.

Finally, my arch nemesis is on the right side of history, right? I’m not sure that’s the case.

I had expected a vapid tale with fun flourishes. The story certainly delivered on both of those but with a lot more I hadn’t anticipated. From where I was sitting (popcorn in hand, legs stretched out into the aisle), it was a satirical story of feminism, patriarchy and the joy and anguish of fully embracing life on life’s terms. If you saw that coming, you probably have the gift of the prophetic, because it was certainly not on my radar.

If you don’t think too much about the plot, the film is easy to enjoy. Helen Mirren offers a witty commentary which is like someone handing you a cup of tea with two sugars when you usually just take milk. It was a welcome surprise that you wouldn’t have asked for but were delighted to discover. It was a visual feast for the eyes with everything – especially the inhabitants of Barbieland – looking perfectly polished. There are also a number of very funny jokes – albeit with adult undertones.

All good so far, but now let’s suppose that you, like me, will think about the plot. When the word is defined correctly, I am delighted to identify as a feminist. That does not mean that I support every feminism-associated declaration of the last 100 years, but it does mean that I passionately champion women and the correcting of previous (and some current) oppressions. This would make me a prime candidate for loving the Barbie movie. Finally, my arch nemesis is on the right side of history, right? I’m not sure that’s the case. Sometimes, in an attempt to show willing, we can allow the pendulum to swing a little too far in the wrong direction.

Mattel’s campaign to rebrand Barbie from a ditsy blonde to an empowered achiever has been well documented. People didn’t want the lack of ambition that came with “shopping mall Barbie” or “beach Barbie” and they certainly didn’t want to have to live up to her unrealistic beauty standards. Apparently if a Barbie doll was to scale, she’d be 5ft 9 with size three feet, and only enough space in her waist for half a liver.

Rather than continuing along these lines, portraying the company as inspiring for girls and women, they take the mick out of it. They highlight that Barbie has been a part of the problem. But in making their point, they outrageously infantilise men. Of course, this is satire, and comedy allows space for exaggeration, but it still didn’t quite sit right for me. Not one man offered a positive portrayal of masculinity (although Michael Cera’s Allan is a joy to watch). On the whole, men were either oblivious, obsessed with their own success, or childish and sometimes sit in board meetings wishing they could just tickle each other.

The very brief summary – without revealing too much of the plot – is that Barbie is very happy in Barbieland, a perfect paradise where women do the lion share of the work and take all the leadership roles. But something starts to change, and the real world begins to seep in. After “causing a rupture” between the real world and Barbieland, “the patriarchy” is introduced into this female-led eutopia and the Barbies must banish it in order to restore the sorority-dominated lifestyle they previously enjoyed. Not a problem – when Ken found out patriarchy wasn’t about horses he lost interest anyway.

In ten years, I think many of the critics who have lauded this film as a classic will cringe at their enthusiasm.

In a world where even Caitlin Moran is writing a book posing the question “What About Men?” I fear this film will age badly. The vast majority of people, including women, don’t want to propel women by doing men down. In ten years, I think many of the critics who have lauded this film as a classic will cringe at their enthusiasm.

Finally, let’s frame this with the ways the Bible has influenced the film. Oh yes, the biblical message hasn’t just underpinned Harry Potter and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, it’s apparent in the Barbie movie too. If we replace Barbieland with Eden we can see a stark comparison between the film and the creation story. In this utopia, Barbie is given authority over the land. She is given a helper in Ken. But their paradise is threatened by human fragility and quest for more knowledge. After it comes crashing down the inhabitants just want to get back to their previous state.

The film demonstrates the desperation to 'return to Eden', in the face of an imperfect and broken world. But it also highlights the beauty that can be found in allowing yourself to experience life on life’s terms; to cry, feel pain and embrace the ache associated with change. For that, I respect its efforts. Although I think Disney’s Inside Out manages to achieve the same without belittling men.

Article

Comment

Paganism

Sport

28 July 2024

8 min read

Paris 2024 and Christianity’s opening ceremony

A subversive Olympic opening relies on Christianity’s own beginnings.

Tim May

Tim is an associate vicar of King’s Cross Church (KXC), a London-based Anglican church.

A painting of the Last supper showing Christ and the disciples at a table.

da Vinci's Last Supper.

Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

The opening ceremony of the 2024 Paris Olympic Games, held on the River Seine, has unsurprisingly caused controversy. Such moments, where one nation through pageantry and spectacle performs itself to all others, never fail to draw comment. The 2024 ceremony has drawn various detractors, not least those claiming the ceremony was an “attack on Christianity.”

You might remember the masterful opening to the London 2012 games. Director Danny Boyle’s theatrical spectacle told a symbolic story of nationhood. By depicting the bucolic, the industrial, and the NHS, he considered the UK in both dark moments and at its brightest. With a great exhibition of British humour, James Bond appeared to parachute out of a helicopter with HRH Queen Elizabeth II, while Mr Bean entertained the whole wordlessly through sardonic single-finger piano playing.

Widely held to be a creative triumph, Boyle was preceded by the Beijing Olympics where its opening ceremony, CGI fireworks put to one side, wowed the world with unprecedented size and scale, reminding us that we live in an era of Chinese power.

Tokyo 2021, delayed by a year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, involved 1,800 drones filling the skies – a faultless demonstration of a technological age where Japanese engineering has been indispensable.

The sporting side of things was easily forgotten as we witnessed an emphatically kitsch depiction of French history and culture.

In 2024 Paris, the weather was perhaps the greatest focus of attention, which suited the British commentary perfectly. We Brits surely are the world experts in making light-entrainment out of describing rain. Soggy athletes sailed the Seine on a variety of uninspiring looking barges. Sanguine but soaked, the athletes dutifully waved and smiled; adorned not in gold, silver or bronze but flimsy ill-fitting plastic ponchos.

Overshadowing this athletes’ parade were the creations of theatre director Thomas Jolly, mastermind of the whole ceremony. Boldly deciding to choose the city as a stage, rather than make use of the conventional choice of a stadium, the sporting side of things was easily forgotten as we witnessed an emphatically kitsch depiction of French history and culture.

Although the weather somewhat thwarted proceedings, it was the content of the performance that drew criticism.

Far-right politicians decried Jolly’s offering as a violation of French nationhood. Conservative pundits focused their criticism on Jolly’s elevation of LGBTQIA+ culture.

Christian commentators have, with various degrees of rancour, condemned a strange scene where Leonardo da Vinci’s famous painting of the Last Supper was subverted by a pastiche of ostentatiously queer characters. At the centre of which was not Jesus Christ but a robust-looking figure resembling Lady Liberty.

Elon Musk spoke up in protest too, posting that it was ‘extremely disrespectful to Christians.’ Full-throttled cries of blasphemy resound, and probably for good reason. What we witnessed was Christ being usurped and replaced by the insurgency of self-expression and the currently sacred idea of diversity and inclusion.

Ahead of the ceremony, Jolly told British Vogue about the heart behind his creation: “there is room for everyone in Paris. Maybe it’s a little chaotic, it’s true, but that allows everyone to find a place for themselves.” The opening ceremony will be a success, Jolly says, “if everyone feels represented in it.”

I guess this isn’t the case for the thirty per cent of the world who would identify as Christian. That’s because every family and flavour of Christianity would recognise that Holy Communion, the central act of Christian Worship for 2000 years, the institution of which is depicted in da Vinci painting, was being publicly and globally vandalised.

When Christianity becomes moral wallpaper to an entire civilisation and its culture, it unsurprisingly becomes a target for satire.

How can we make sense of this moment? Is there anything more for the Christian to contribute other than indignation or outrage?

Whenever something like this occurs it reminds me of the central role Christianity has played in Western culture. The intelligibility of the ceremony’s controversial scene rests on the idea that da Vinci’s painting is a globally recognised symbol. Otherwise, we would have just been watching a really strange dinner party with no food. But with Da Vinci’s famous painting in our mind the subversive power of Jolly’s scene hits hard.

The view, popularised by the historian Tom Holland among others, would go as far as to suggest that Christianity’s effect on Western culture is so pervasive that even moments of protest and subversion, as we saw in the Paris ceremony, are cultural phenomena inherited from the Protestant Reformation. Regardless of how far you agree with Holland’s thesis, Jolly's subversion only makes sense because of the dominant role Christianity has played in shaping the western imagination, and that is a position of latent power that should cause pause for reflection.

I’ve read half a dozen articles from a certain sort of right-wing journalist who parrot thoughts like, “they wouldn’t do that with the Quran”. That might be right, but it fundamentally misses the point. Blasphemy, let’s say, in Iran, would certainly not involve the Last Supper.

The scene made sense only because of Christianity’s now diminishing position of power but it's a position of power, nonetheless. When you align Jesus Christ with the status quo, with the corridors of power, when Christianity becomes moral wallpaper to an entire civilisation and its culture, it unsurprisingly becomes a target for satire. Especially for anyone or any group that feels persecuted or marginalised. I’m not for a moment defending what Jolly did but trying to understand why it happened.

The last supper, the meal Jesus shared with his friends the night before his crucifixion, was the opening ceremony of Christianity.

The kind of cultural power Christianity has had in the West comes at the cost of clarity because Christianity was itself originally a counterculture. Crucifixion, a supreme act of imperial domination, became the foundation of Christian thought and ultimately its greatest symbol. The original Christian movement was seen itself to be blasphemous for contradictory reasons by both the Jewish and Roman religious leaders of the time.

The fundamental difference between Christianity and merely holding conservative values that should not be transgressed, is God. It was genuine belief in Jesus Christ as the long-awaited messiah of the Jewish people and the Saviour of the whole world - a belief that led his first bedraggled and bewildered disciples to live in such radical and counter-cultural ways that many were killed by the Roman Empire.

It is right for his followers today to speak up and say how wrong it is when the special and sacred things he did for them are yet again trampled on in public, but it's also worth remembering that’s how the story started - with Jesus’ body brutalised and broken. That somehow, in moments like this, we miss the power of Jesus when we simply defend him on grounds of “decency” and “respect.” Instead, if we return to the original events themselves, Jolly’s depiction, in its mockery and subversion, actually reveals the power of The Last Supper.

Da Vinci’s painting was not intended for a gallery but was originally painted on the wall of a fairly obscure monastery, transported to a gallery years later to become primarily art, it is more a foundational aid to the faithful to remember the original events Da Vinci is depicting.

The last supper, the meal Jesus shared with his friends the night before his crucifixion, was the opening ceremony of Christianity. Every time a Christian takes Holy Communion - the central act of Christian worship for over 2,000 years - they remember the opening ceremony where:

“Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins”

The most peculiar part of the opening ceremony of Christianity - more peculiar than any sight we saw last night - is the presence of Judas. The biblical accounts describe Jesus’ knowledge of Judas’ intentions to betray him to the Romans, and yet Judas is still welcome to the table. If there’s space for Judas, then there is space for all of us. The opening ceremony Christianity cannot be remembered without the presence of Judas the betrayer, and Peter the coward or Thomas the doubter. The great irony and the big mystery of the Christian Faith is that you can’t out-sin grace. You can mock it and subvert it, but Christ died for the ungodly.

Last night’s scene doesn’t come close to the original events. Not only was Jesus betrayed by his friends, he was then tortured, humiliated and executed publicly in just about the most excruciating way humans have devised. That was blasphemy of another level, but it was also victory because God was choosing to love inclusively beyond any human metric.

Tom Holland may be right that no part of western culture has escaped Christian influence, but I want more than a little downstream influence.

This means that there’s nothing more inclusive than the opening ceremony of Christianity and yet, at the same time, nothing more exclusive. It is not us who provide the food but God. In Jolly’s performance, the Last Supper scene was concluded by the French actor Philippe Katerine, emerging painted head to toe in blue. Whilst this bearded smurf caused baffled sniggers across the planet, Katherine was apparently representing Dionysius, The Greek god associated with wild drunken parties. The food on offer by Jolly is wild desire and self-expression. In Christianity the food is God himself, his body and his blood. God’s love is given not simply expressed, even to those who will betray him.

Moments like this will become harder for Christians to navigate. It feels like just as a wave of secular liberalism wants to finally vanquish the power position Christianity has painted for centuries, a new conservative vanguard of resistance is rising to protect or enrol it for its own means. From the mouth of Modi or in Trump’s tirades, a new religiously armed populism is raging. Tom Holland may be right that no part of western culture has escaped Christian influence, but I want more than a little downstream influence.

Take us back to the opening ceremony, to the foundation of Christian faith. Take us to the waterfall, where the torrent flows straight down from the mountain, and save us from the slow-moving sludge of the wide river downstream. Take me back to the opening ceremony of Christianity. To the table where God welcomes a Judas like me, to the meal where the master became a servant and washed his followers' feet. Take me back to eat food I could never afford and wine I could not create.