The Heel Turn On That 'Barbie' Monologue
Once called “stirring,” “powerful” and “cathartic,” it’s now being called a “god awful theater kid monologue.” What changed?
When I reviewed Barbie here back in July, I called America Ferrera’s monologue — described elsewhere as stirring, powerful, cathartic, resonant, inspiring — as feeling a bit… duh. “It’s definitely an 11th-hour lift for the film, but I didn’t find her words particularly thought-provoking or revelatory, especially in comparison to Amy’s monologue in Gerwig’s Little Women.”
Here’s the monologue verbatim as it appears in the film for reference:
It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong. You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people. You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining. You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood. But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault. I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, then I don't even know.
For me, in a vein similar to “It’s not the crime, it’s the cover-up,” my growing disdain for this monologue wasn’t so much the words themselves, but the surrounding conversation that lifted this moment from fleeting to one worth digging in on. The conversation dignified the monologue in a way that placed it up there with the greats, which, to quote Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof, felt “inconceivable” to me. Of course, nothing can be universally praised, and after a first wave of exuberance came a second more discerning look at the speech, with some seeing it more as Feminism 101.
Now, but of course, the conversation is being revisited. Here’s the latest.