Like it or not, we are all citizens of the state of Barbieland – or at least we were on the eve of Barbie’s opening.
Following a year-long wink-wink, think-pink marketing blitz that shaded every corner of the public consciousness in Pantone 219C, masses of film and pop culture devotees squeezed into their rosiest garments and headed to the cinema to see writer-director Greta Gerwig’s sparkly tribute to the wasp-waisted Mattel doll. Made in conjunction with the Los Angeles-based toy brand, Barbie is the first of 45 Mattel IP productions in the works.
The film, which stars Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling and whose production budget is $145m, is expected to capture at least $90m in domestic ticket sales over the weekend, jolting the soft box office revenue of late. The film shares an opening date with another summer tentpole, Christopher Nolan’s atomic bomb drama Oppenheimer. Projections for the Barbie rival’s first weekend showing are less explosive, with expectations between $40m and $60m.
A contingent of pop culture obsessives have made sedentary sport of the double feature, and plenty of TikTokers have opinions on the correct way to do “Barbenheimer” (save the sweet treat for last is the general consensus). The theater chain AMC reported that more than 40,000 people had purchased tickets to see Barbie and Oppenheimer on 21 July.
“I can’t remember the last time I bought a ticket this far in advance,” said Hannah Jegart, a 33-year-old producer at a design agency who secured her Barbie seat two weeks before Thursday’s sneak previews. “I just want to feel unadulterated joy,” the film lover said of what she hoped would be a “silly and campy afternoon”. Hours before showtime, she was already feeling nostalgic for the kind of event entertainment that has been so lacking in recent years. “And with the writers’ and actors’ strike, this is probably the last Barbie-level movie for the next while.”
“I’ve been waiting for this for two years,” said Madeline Warshaw, 27, a design strategist who lives in Philadelphia. “I’ve been dying to go to a movie theater and have something that feels like a monoculture event.” The design strategist grew up playing with Barbie dolls and has been a Gerwig super-fan for her entire adult life. “I feel like the stars are aligning.” After the screening, Warshaw’s group of four headed over to her apartment to feast on a cake that she had baked and decorated with a mess of rainbow sprinkles and an actual Barbie doll.
“Margot Robbie’s hair looks like whipped cream,” marveled Brooklyn resident Elena Mehlman. The 27-year-old said her commitment to putting on lavender checkered pedal pushers and seeing Barbie on opening night is about more than entertainment. “I believe in voting with my dollars,” she said, citing her desire for Barbie to win the box-office war against Oppenheimer. “Even though there’s a sense that women have a big voice in creative spaces, that’s not true,” Mehlman said. “A film directed by a woman and with a woman in the lead deserves all the support it can get.”
“The cast list is so crazy it’s fun,” said another New Yorker, Arianna Mastro, who made a point of reserving her opening night spots at a theater near the Malibu Barbie Cafe in downtown Manhattan. A pre-showtime swing-by at the pop-up saw about two-thirds of the tables occupied, mostly by women wearing pink spaghetti strap dresses and feasting on California Dreamin’ club sandwiches. Also in pink was a young girl by the door, sobbing. It was her fifth birthday but the restaurant wouldn’t seat her family because they had failed to make a reservation. “You can’t just sit down and order off the menu,” a host told the Guardian. “Everything has to be selected in advance.”
A trio of high-schoolers in Barbie Cosplay had better things to say about the restaurant. “The Paradise Rainbow pancakes were really good,” said Tee Compton, 17, wearing a pink A-line dress and matching bobby socks. She and her friends, who live in New Jersey, had made a two-day event of the Barbie release. They had tickets for a matinee screening the following day, and planned to wear darker versions of their outfits. “It’s something fun to do,” said Compton.
Further uptown, at the AMC theater in Times Square, there were no fewer than 28 Barbie screenings taking place between the window of 6.15pm and 12.30am. (Oppenheimer was also showing, but in fewer theaters.) Dressed in varying degrees of commitment (one woman’s fuschia sweatshirt draped over an arm is another woman’s pink bandage dress and heels), ticket-holders filtered in and reported to their assigned seats. Some stopped along the way to purchase a popcorn-filled plastic Corvette souvenir and doll combo for $64.95.
Morgan Staley, a professional dog walker wearing pink cat eye glasses, was waiting at the entrance for her friend, a man who she called a Barbie obsessive. “I’m mostly here for emotional support,” she said. “But I do love Margot Robbie.”
The energy in a 7.30 screening room, filled to near capacity, started off at a high pitch. There was a note of determination to the laughter that broke out when the Mattel logo flashed on the screen. Then came rapturous cries of “Hi Barbie!” as everyone waited for the first actor to appear. Over the next hour and 54 minutes, the audience’s mood took a turn for the less forced. It was Barbie’s turn to do the work. When the house lights came back on, a woman in the front row didn’t budge. She had sunk deep into her seat and appeared to be in a state of unadulterated bliss, her pink kitten heels kicked off to the side.
