There’s no easy answer to the toxicity of the 'manosphere', but Barbie gets a lot right.
Coming to terms with being Kenough *spoilers below*
Image credit: Warner Bros (please don’t sue me)
Telegraph film critic Robbie Collin called Barbie “the most improbable triumph of the year” which, like the film itself, is a complicated statement. While he’s right in the sense that films linked to existing toys tend to be cash-grab advertisements masked as mediocre action flicks (Transformers, Battleship, the list goes on), one look at the line-up for Barbie shows a star-studded cast filled with British comedy talents and a director who has yet to do any wrong in her dominance of late 2010s depictions of complex female relationships. Great acting and direction won’t automatically make a film a hit, and it’s certainly a supreme balancing act to deliver something as funny, complicated, and “achey, but in a good way” as this, but I’m incredibly happy to report that everything in this film hits its mark. From the bizarre meta-humour and sublime Gosling Kenergy, to the touching earnestness of dolls making complex and introspective spiritual journeys to discover what it means to be human. A lot will have already been written about Greta Gerwig’s deconstruction of the cognitive dissonance of living as a woman in a patriarchal world, and I’m in no position to meaningfully add to that conversation. However, one thing that stood out to me the most in Barbie was its similarly sensitive and multifaceted depiction of masculinity, and how patriarchy not only oppresses and objectifies women, but also commands men define themselves through the narrow performative box of traditional masculinity – money, status, power. This is, of course, a fairly basic take: ‘patriarchy harms men too’, but the way in which Barbie is able to use its own worldbuilding and setting to delve deeper into this narrative is what really fascinates me, and what I believe gives the film its own answer to the damaging pipeline of the ‘manosphere’.
For those unfamiliar with the manosphere (and I wish we all were), it is generally defined as an “overlapping collection of online men’s support communities that have emerged as a response to feminism, female empowerment, and the alienating forces of neoliberalism.” When you hear about misogynist ideologues such as Andrew Tate or Jordan Peterson, generally their audiences are part of the manosphere - (usually young) men who feel alienated from a society they perceive to be increasingly anti-man due to the rise of women’s rights. Predatory figures like Tate exploit these anxieties by proscribing a lifestyle that reasserts a traditionally masculine ideal focussed on physical dominance, romantic/sexual conquest, and the pursuit of money - with the ideologues themselves usually profiting through paid affiliate programmes such as Tate’s ‘Hustler’s University’. The manosphere is as broad as it is deep, and can often be difficult to disentangle from other overlapping misogynist communities - incels, pick-up artists, etc. We’ll use this loose definition for the sake of this piece, but I’ll put some articles below for anyone wanting to learn more.
What does this have to do with Barbie? Well, any media that deals with patriarchy as a core element of its narrative will by necessity have to depict and deconstruct masculinity and its fraught co-construction alongside both patriarchy and femininity. Barbie does this through its depiction of the Kens, presented initially as vacuous, attractive dolls seen as superfluous to female-run Barbieland. It’s no coincidence that Ryan Gosling is likely in the best shape of his life for this film, Kens are engineered to present this harmless ‘himbo’ energy with incredible good looks and an empty-headed chill – a mirror of how patriarchal society expects women to be attractive and pliable without too much going on upstairs. In addition, Ken is solely defined by his romantic pursuit of Barbie, and “only has a good day when Barbie looks at him” – another mirrored stereotype of women in the real world, who are seen as acting primarily for male approval. Just as there is often an implicit paedophilic undertone to the child-like vacuity and naivete of the ‘ideal woman’, the Kens in Barbieland are easily influenced and led astray by their first exposure to the patriarchy of the real world. In this sense, the Kens are similar to the target audience of manosphere narratives, inexperienced young men who come to perceive themselves as second-class citizens in a society run by women and who ultimately are unable to form a meaningful connection with any of these women, which further drives them into masculine, exclusionary communities. Obviously, Barbieland is quite literally run by women, but as the Kens have only ever known it to be this way, none of them protest until an alternative is presented in patriarchy – they are given a narrative that presents them as oppressed, just as incels use the ‘gynocracy’ (women being in charge by virtue of their ‘sexual power’) narrative to frame themselves as victims. Once Ken’s (the main Ken, ‘Beach Ken’) anxieties over his place in Barbieland and his constant rejections by Barbie have been stoked by seeing how powerful the performance of masculinity is in the real world, he seeks to bring this same ordering system back home. An interesting (and kind of gross) wrinkle here is that gender and sex in Barbieland are entirely performative, like Butler’s “sex [is] gender all along'' taken to the extreme; there are no genitals, no chromosomes, no biological basis for sexual differentiation, only the performative aspects of gender acted out through the dolls’ designations as either Barbie or Ken. As a result, both dolls are at the mercy of the performative gender roles ported over from the real world, which is why the Barbie’s have “no defence” against patriarchy.
So, the Kens are mirrors of women in the real world, defined by a performative masculinity that prioritises attention from women, good looks, and minimal thought. At the same time, when presented with the patriarchal ideas of the real world, they feel themselves enlightened (much in the same way as impressionable, anxious young men) to their position as second class citizens, and seek to reassert their dominance in Barbieland. Does this work for them? Well, in the same way that real-world patriarchy tends to harm men by pushing them into narrow, restrictive moulds defined by traditionally ‘masculine’ ideals, the Kens’ new focus on an eternal boys’ night and the pursuit of masculine consumerism – cars, coats, sports, and “brewski-beers” – actually drives them further from a healthy sense of self-worth. The paradoxical patriarchal framing of women as lesser beings with the supreme power of rejection over men causes women to be doubly-hated, yet this also sabotages men’s chances of forming meaningful connections with women, as rejection is seen as a reflection of the woman’s character and thus she bears the brunt of responsibility for it, even if the guy was an absolute creep. In Barbieland, the Kens’ constant inability to ‘perform’ romance towards the Barbies (don’t think about that too hard), combined with their new ‘enlightenment’ towards patriarchy, causes them to flip the switch and treat Barbies as second-class citizens whose needs don’t matter. Instead of being the superfluous “and Ken’s” to the Barbies , they seek to define themselves through their masculine possessions and characteristics: strength, status, and a focus on superficial relationships with the opposite sex as “long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriends”. The Kens are thus defined by their performative masculinity and yet still unable to meaningfully connect with Barbies, as patriarchy demands the othering and exclusion of women as a core part of masculine identity. This is the call of the manosphere; rejection from women damages self-esteem which then hardens into a hatred of (or at the very least, disinterest in) women, with a new focus on the pursuit of traditional masculine ideals of money, power, and ‘masculine’ possessions. The Kens have fallen into the trap of toxic masculinity.
To resolve this conflict, the Barbies use the toxic traits against the Kens and ferment a civil war. Their jealousy, possessiveness, and masculine egos centred around physical dominance cause them to go into a melodramatic beach battle with sports equipment as weapons (the two are both interchangeably masculine). Patriarchy has turned the Kens against each other, as the framing of Barbies as superficial objects of conquest and power has led to an implicit competition for their attention. When the masculinity of the Kens is threatened by other Kens (though the conflict itself is manufactured by the enlightened Barbies), they act out in the most traditionally ‘masculine’ expression of all – violence. The real-world equivalent, of course, is men literally and figuratively (through the social one-upping of each other and the constant pursuit of status) fighting over women. However, this is where the trajectory of the Kens splits from the trajectory of ‘real men’ under patriarchy, and a partial solution is gleaned in the process. The battle between the Kens progresses into a dance sequence – still competitive and oppositional at the start but eventually giving way to more cooperation and support between them. Two things in this dance sequence are important to note: the unabashed displays of male affection such as hand holding and cheek-kissing, and the development of the lyrics of the song itself: “I’m Just Ken”.
Yes, I’m really going to analyse the lyrics of the Ken song in the Barbie movie, it’s actually a perfect little microcosm of the journey that all the Kens go on throughout the film, just focused on the main Ken (Gosling). The first verse and chorus are characteristic of Ken’s’ feelings of isolation: “I’m always number two”, emotional repression and illiteracy: “I have feelings that I can’t explain”, and his lack of self-worth combined with an inability to live up to expectations: “I’m just Ken”. The Kens are ‘just’ Kens, they’ve always been defined by their inability to form connections with Barbies and being seen as second-class citizens. Again, this is an articulation of the same grievances of young, disenchanted men in the real world who fall prey to manosphere narratives, that they can’t seem to talk about their emotions, they feel lonely and like they’re not living up to what society demands of them. In these cases, their anxieties cause them to embrace harmful ideologues like Tate, who give them meaning in a confusing world through a focus on traditional ‘masculine’ traits. Ken also shares a lot of points with the male entitlement narratives of incels; that they’ve always been “so polite” (nice), but are relegated to the status of a friend when actually, they’re a catch (a “ten”), and deserve attention and love from Barbies. Ken has fallen prey to these narratives, but this song is the beginning of his introspection as to why he actually feels bad, and how to get out of this toxic worldview. Verse 2: Ken wants to “know what it’s like to love”, this is his straightforward articulation of a desire for real love, not just the superficial low-commitment relationship that patriarchy has told him is ideal for preserving masculine dominance and emotional detachment. He begins to recognise a desire for real emotional connection and, here’s the kicker: “Am I not hot when I’m in my feelings?” The seeds of self-worth are planted here, Ken is afraid he won’t be attractive - a ‘real man’ - when he shows emotion, but there’s the implicit acknowledgement that, actually, it’s patriarchal masculinity that shames the expression of emotion. In the outro comes the beginning of the resolution for Ken:
“I’m just Ken
(And I’m enough)
And I’m great
At doing stuff”
Don’t let the simplicity of these lines fool you, that is one of the greatest expressions of self-worth there is, just believing that we are enough and that we’re good at what we do. He doesn’t even specify the “stuff”; whether it’s beach, pull-ups, or anything else traditionally ‘masculine’, because he’s beginning to realise that just being good at something is enough justification to believe in yourself. He doesn’t have to be told what he needs to be good at, he just knows that being good at something is inherently enough. Another line I loved in the film is about becoming “sad, mushy, and complicated.” ‘Complicated’ occurs quite a bit throughout and it’s another eloquently simple expression of what it’s like to be a human, you’re complicated, but you’re enough, it’s a perfect little dyad. Then finally, the lyrical expression of all the acts of male affection that occur throughout the dance number: “Put that manly hand in mine”. The Kens realise that they should be supporting each other and, though the call for physical affection is still veiled behind the pretense of ‘manliness’, it still comes across as vulnerable and open. This time, it’s less about subjugating the Barbies’ femininity and instead about trying to make real connections, even just through holding hands. The end of this song is the beginning of Ken’s self-care journey – his discovery that he isn’t just defined by his relationship to Barbie, or by his ownership of ‘masculine’ possessions.
Ken’s ultimate moment of self-realisation occurs later, when Barbie honestly communicates her feelings to him and delivers the core ethos of the film’s constructive and empathetic approach to masculinity: that Ken isn’t defined by his girlfriend, his job (beach), or his mink, that maybe the things he thought made him him, weren’t him after all. And so the lie of patriarchal masculinity is exposed; you are not defined by your material possessions, status, or any other lie all these masculinity ‘gurus’ sell, you are a deep, complex individual who is worth far more than all this superficiality. All the Kens come to realise that they are their own people (dolls), concluding that “we were fighting because we didn’t know who we were”, which is another comment on the perceived loss of male status and privilege in the modern world. The common narrative is that men are no longer able to define themselves by their entitlement to traditional indicators of power and status like high-paying jobs and sole-earner status, this is primarily due to the changing global economy but often blamed on increasing rights for women and the feminist movement. Similarly, the traditional chauvinistic possession over women that was once integral to masculinity is now seen as an archaic remnant of a less enlightened time. The choice then, is either to fall into the trap of a toxic embrace of the past, clinging to a fractured and dispossessed masculinity which demands so much but gives so little – note how manosphere narratives hypocritically push you to be a self-sufficient individual that stands out from the crowd whilst simultaneously encouraging you to blindly follow the advice of one messiah-like man who purports to have all the answers. Or, the Barbie way: introspection, self-awareness, true empowerment through being comfortable with yourself and understanding that you are Kenough. You don’t need to be defined by what you own, or any of the other status symbols patriarchy thrusts upon you, you just need to work on understanding who you are from a place of kindness and empathy, and do what you can to get through the day. The film’s ending solidifies this approach, there is no kiss and reconciliation between Ken and Barbie, the idea of them being together is dismissed entirely. In fact, there isn’t even an alternate love interest for either character, which is usually the way these things go. A poorly-executed 2000s version of this script would see Ken ending up with some lesser-known Barbie whose beauty he discovers by the finale. Nope, nothing like that. Because Ken doesn’t need Barbie’s affection to be happy, nor does he need the markers of masculine power that the patriarchal world impressed upon him; what he needs is the time and space to figure himself out, outside of all those things he thought made him who he was. Ncuti Gatwa’s Ken decides he doesn’t want to do all this figuring out, he just wants his friend Barbie back, and that’s okay, Kens and Barbies can be friends too.
So, back to the manosphere to conclude. Just as Ken claims he lost interest in the patriarchy when he realised it wasn’t just about horses, the easy solutions offered to young, anxious men by the manosphere are not what they appear to be at first glance. Clinging on to ‘traditional’ ideals of masculinity as a basis for identity and self-worth alongside the harnessing of in/out-group dynamics to frame manhood as ‘under attack’ by a ‘woke culture’ creates a community of angry, bitter, exclusionary men who think being loud is the only way to be heard and who can never, ever fix what is truly causing their pain. The manosphere doesn’t empower men to be well-rounded, understanding, and empathetic individuals, it crushes them into conformity with tired old stereotypes that cause far more harm to themselves and others than any of the people who profit from masculine misery would ever be willing to admit. You can’t buy your way out of loneliness, or lift heavy enough weights that you love yourself. So much of patriarchal masculinity is about punishing yourself to fit into a narrow box that encourages anger and resentment over understanding. The Kens aren’t just well-built empty vessels, but complex individuals with a depth that has long gone unrecognised, both by the ‘status quo’ Barbieland society and then by the imported patriarchal society. The solution is in the ending, the assertion of your own individuality outside of the expectations others have placed on you. Don’t let predatory ideologues (and convicted human traffickers) like Andrew Tate tell you who you are; but also don’t let people whose hatred for patriarchal masculinity gets transposed onto your existence define you either, as a reductive binary of gender hatred goes both ways. Defining yourself through hatred (either of yourself or of others) will never leave you fulfilled or feeling worthy; only you can find the things you like and learn to build yourself up, whether that’s through a love of your friends, a love of horses, or a love of the pure masculine energy that comes from doing a choreographed dance number in matching loafers with your buddies. Introspection is painful, and having a license to build your self-worth as an individual doesn’t mean you can escape the realities and obligations of the very real world that we live in, you just need to approach things with love over hate, and appreciate everything you can without climbing over other people to get a better view. It’s a hard, complicated, sometimes paradoxical process, but it’s human.
Additional reading on the Manosphere:
Stephen Marche, Swallowing the Red Pill: a journey to the heart of modern misogyny.
I would highly suggest reading Laura Bates’ book Men Who Hate Women, it’s all about the various overlapping communities and ideologues that form the manosphere and was an influential piece in the writing of my dissertation on incels.