The Barbie doll has long been controversial in her iconicism, praised for empowering and inspiring children, at the same time denounced for propagating unrealistic standards of body image and beauty. Any artistic foray into Barbie would no doubt require much interrogation of these glaring contradictions – and writer-director Greta Gerwig proves herself to be more than up to the challenge.

Gerwig specialises in coming-of-age stories. Her first two solo directorial efforts, Lady Bird and Little Women – both of which she also wrote – won over critics and audiences alike for their candid, authentic depictions of girls navigating the tricky transition to womanhood.

With that in mind, the multi-hyphenate creative is the perfect captain to steer a ship as hefty and tricky as a live-action movie based on the world’s best-selling doll.

That said, if you think this is a “chick flick”, think again.

The film opens on Margot Robbie’s Barbie – or, more specifically, Stereotypical Barbie – who lives in Barbieland along with all the other Barbies in Mattel’s repertoire, including Doctor Barbie (Hari Nef), Writer Barbie (Alexandra Shipp) and President Barbie (Issa Rae). However, when existential concerns and fears begin to seep into her perfect pink-tinted world, she must journey into the real world – Los Angeles – to seek out the source of her distress.

Let’s get the obvious stuff out of the way: yes, Barbie the movie is a ton of fun. The upbeat, bubbly soundtrack kicks in from the get-go and keeps the energy up throughout the film’s very manageable 114-minute runtime. It’s been a while since we’ve had a big-budget blockbuster with some decent colour, and Barbie’s bright palettes and warm tones are a welcome change from the bleak lighting and slate grey washes so favoured by box-office heavyweights such as Marvel and DC.

A NEWSLETTER FOR YOU

Friday, 2 pm

Lifestyle

Our picks of the latest dining, travel and leisure options to treat yourself.

Sign Up

The jokes and gags are aplenty, each one carried off with ease by a capable cast led by Robbie as Barbie and Ryan Gosling as her devoted boyfriend Ken. The two A-listers do tremendous justice to Gerwig’s sparkling dialogue, and take full advantage of the opportunity to flex their physical comedy muscles with hilarious results.

Beneath the candy-floss fluff, though, Barbie offers much to chew on.

The switch from Barbieland to the real world is an effective metaphor for the loss of innocence we all experience growing up. The desire to fit in or blend in with everyone else, the acute discomfort of having others notice and make judgments on your physical form, the struggle to understand unspoken social rules and norms – these are universal dilemmas we all grapple with as we enter adolescence, albeit with crucial differences on either side of the gender fence. As powerful as the mere depiction of these differences is – and Gerwig certainly isn’t shy with the spotlight – it’s even more of a punch to have them explicitly identified and addressed by the characters on-screen.

The core of the film’s humanity is Gloria (America Ferrera), a Mattel employee who helps Barbie in her quest to restore her halcyon happiness. Ferrera’s heartfelt performance is the true secret weapon of the film, giving voice to the many contradictions and frustrations that come with womanhood in modern society. In a classic Gerwig monologue, she details the pressures and obligations placed on women, rounding off with “I’m so tired of watching every woman tie herself into knots just so people will like us.”

Barbie’s interrogation of societal stereotypes doesn’t stop at girls and women. Having been ensconced in the female-dominated Barbieland, Gosling’s Ken is launched into his own journey of self-discovery when he encounters the patriarchal norms of real-world America.

There’re a lot of genuinely funny bits about “brewski beers” and cowboy hats and horses, which Gosling and the supporting cast milk with earnest aplomb. A couple of riotous set pieces involving all the Kens and an inordinate amount of singing and boyband-esque dancing had the entire theatre clapping and cheering. But the real impact of Ken’s arc is in his climactic realisation that he needs to figure out his worth and value in himself, not in his dominance over others or in his attachment to Barbie.

For all it does to compare and contrast contemporary gender stereotypes, Barbie’s biggest strength is that it doesn’t want to divide the sexes or pit one against another. It does itself a great deal of credit by bringing the focus back to what men and women have in common when it comes to navigating the difficult nuances of life.

“But it’s Barbie and Ken,” Ken protests. “It’s Barbie, and it’s Ken,” Barbie corrects with a smile.

The message is clear: There is space for both in the world, and it is more than Kenough.