The Guardian (USA)

The banned Barbie film: her anguished first role as Karen Carpenter

- Sam Joyce

Greta Gerwig’s Barbie, out next Friday, is the most anticipate­d film of the year. Yet, for all the hype, this is not the first time Barbie has found herself cast as the lead in a film. Much like mumblecore queen Gerwig herself, Barbie first arrived on screen as an insurgent outsider. Back in 1987, Todd Haynes, later the director behind contempora­ry classics such as Carol, Safe and Far from Heaven, cast a downmarket version of the popular doll in the title role of Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story. The undergroun­d classic charts the rise and tragic demise of singer Karen Carpenter and her breezily California­n musical stylings, using whittled down Barbiestyl­e dolls to illustrate the worsening anorexia that eventually led to her untimely death in 1983. Thanks to a spot of litigation from the Carpenter estate, this long out-of-circulatio­n film is today most likely to be watched on iffy YouTube bootleg.

Superstar draws a parallel between these two American icons – Carpenter and Barbie – and dramatises the former’s decline against newsreel footage of America at war. Early in the film, a tank firing off rounds is intercut with a domestic scene of Karen complainin­g about how unflatteri­ng her maxi dress is, while her mother’s spindly plastic limb snakes a measuring tape around her daughter’s waist and pronounces the measuremen­ts as if delivering a decree. Set in a time before anorexia was widely understood, these dolls’ domestic sphere was a psychologi­cal war zone.

The 1970s was a reactionar­y period in the US, as a crisis of national selfconfid­ence stoked by the Vietnam war and Watergate met the social upheavals initiated by campaigns for civil rights. Conservati­ves found themselves looking back longingly towards the prehippy era as a time of stability, and so the nuclear family gained significan­ce as a comforting symbol in need of protection. Enter the Carpenters; a family band with sunny tunes and a clean image. Yet for all its promise of security, in Haynes’s vision, the Carpenters’ suburban doll house becomes a nightmare for Karen. An atonal, sinister drone scores a montage of the endless fattening family meals she is subjected to, all photograph­ed in unappetisi­ng

Kodachrome colours as you might see in a dogeared 70s cookbook. Later, a musical conductor guides the scale ever downward as another cavalcade of unappealin­g foods dances across the screen.

The suffering of Carpenter’s dolllike facsimile supports the film’s ambiguous interest in quaint, chintzy consumer culture. Her plastic quality and fixed grin reinforce the popular perception of the Carpenters’ music; innocent, anodyne and commercial. Yet her anorexia is seen to reject the values of American consumer democracy, turning instead towards a fascism of the body. An infomercia­l-style interstiti­al opines that “in a culture that continues to control women through commoditis­ation […] the anorexic body excludes itself, rejecting the doctrines of femininity, driven by a vision of complete mastery and control.” With an impossible figure set off by a multitude of accessorie­s, a Barbie doll becomes the perfect vessel to express the unresolvab­le tension between these mirrorimag­e imperative­s of consumptio­n and suppressio­n, phenomena both concerned on some level with personal empowermen­t.

Gerwig’s glossier film similarly utilises the ambiguity of Barbie. The film’s trailer tells audiences, “If you love Barbie, this film is for you. If you hate Barbie, this film is for you.” This playful yet subversive pitch makes a gleamingly commercial propositio­n for a digital age of hate-watching and algorithmi­cally whipped-up anger; love it or loathe it, you have to see this film. Barbie can be everything to everybody.

In both films, the doll ultimately decides she must leave her home. For Carpenter, this precedes an attempt at healing, away from well-meaning if destructiv­e family dynamics. For Margot Robbie’s Barbie, her journey leads her to discoverin­g true power in the real world, outside Barbieland’s colourful confines. Both films imagine the home as a place of repression, and dolls as a vessel for often contradict­ory ideas about domesticit­y, femininity and self-realisatio­n. This is perfectly fitting; Barbie was first conceived of to provide children with a female role model who worked outside the home. To counter that her first job was as a fashion-model would perhaps be churlish from today’s perspectiv­e.

In his 1979 book Stars, film scholar Richard Dyer claimed that popular actors’ “star images” usually reconcile seemingly irreconcil­able traits. This could be innocence and sexuality, independen­ce and romanticis­m, or any other similarly opposed qualities. Having ignited so much pre-release conversati­on, and by speaking to so many people’s disparate readings, with Barbie we may be finally witnessing the big-screen arrival of a new, truly fascinatin­g film star.

• In the UK, Beat can be contacted on 0808-801-0677. In the US, the National Eating Disorders Associatio­n is on 800-931-2237. In Australia, the Butterfly Foundation is at 1800 33 4673. Other internatio­nal helplines can be found at Eating Disorder Hope

 ?? ?? Barbie in Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story. Photograph: Iced Tea Prods/Kobal/Shuttersto­ck
Barbie in Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story. Photograph: Iced Tea Prods/Kobal/Shuttersto­ck
 ?? Lifestyle pictures/Alamy ?? Playful yet subversive … Barbie. Photograph:
Lifestyle pictures/Alamy Playful yet subversive … Barbie. Photograph:

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