Painting the Patriarchy Pink: This Barbie is a Blogger

Tee: Kohl's

I finally saw Barbie yesterday, and it was every bit as fabulous as I expected.  The clothes, the colors, the dance routines.  But also, the message.  Because if there's one thing that director Greta Gerwig makes clear, it's that being a woman is complicated.  To paraphrase America Ferrera's Gloria, all we really want at the end of the day is to "wear a flattering top and feel okay."  Yet sometimes the world -- and more to the point, the patriarchy -- makes that more difficult than it should be.  So it's no wonder that Barbie -- both the "stereotypical" one played to perfection by Margot Robbie and all the others who share the same name -- would rather stay in Barbie Land where women are always in power and cellulite is a myth, than venture out into the real world only to be arrested for rollerblading.

It's no surprise that it's Weird Barbie (Kate McKinnon) who convinces Stereotypical Barbie to hang with the humans.  After all, it doesn't get much more real than having a toddler yank your hair out by the roots and tattoo your face with Jem-style graffiti.  McKinnon kooks it up brilliantly, pouring every ounce of SNL alien abductee energy into channeling the discarded doll.  As for her aesthetic, it's excellently edgy, a kind of warped candy cute.  Her outfit and house are my favorite. 

But this isn't about Weird Barbie.  It's about Stereotypical Barbie.  And what she learns is what we all learn at some point -- that things aren't always perfect.   Also, that sometimes it's better to have an Allan (Michael Cera) than a Ken (Ryan Gosling).  Finally, not to trust men in charge. (I'm looking at you, shades-of-Mugatu Mattel CEO Will Ferrell.)  Yet however imperfect, it's still okay.  Because being human is a beautiful mess, and the only way to clean it up is to muss your hair and snag your stockings.  Authenticity is better than plastic.  

And that, Barbie girls, is nothing to toy with.

Lars and Stripes Forever

Sure, it's a little weird that I'm trotting out a Canadian for a semi-patriotic post.  But Ryan Gosling is so much more than an overly polite, maple syrup-guzzling, hockey-worshiper.  After all, he did save that journalist that time.  And it doesn't get much more American -- or, for that matter, thespian -- than risking it all for free speech.   

We've seen Gosling in courtrooms and race cars, behind the piano and on the other side of the law.  But of all of his movies, I like him best in Lars and the Real Girl.  To me, it's there that he's at his most vulnerable and endearing.  And yes, I'm counting that one where he rows a boat in the rain.

Lars is a near-recluse who lives in his brother's garage in a small, snowy town.  His brother Gus (Paul Schneider) and sister-in-law Karin (Emily Mortimer) have an ongoing bet as to whether he'll show up for dinner (spoiler alert, he doesn't), and he cringes whenever someone tries to touch him.  Some of these anxieties seem to stem from his mom dying in childbirth, others from an innate inability to deal with change.  Still, Lars manages to hold down a job.  And it's in their shared cubicle that his degenerate coworker introduces him to the world of online sex dolls.  Before we know it, Lars is telling Gus and Karin that he's met someone.  They're overjoyed, relieved, and willing to do whatever it takes to make Lars's relationship work.

And then Lars wheels in Bianca. 

Even after one of those hurried, honey-help-me-with-dinner kitchen conferences, Gus and Karin remain flabbergasted.  But Karin, who happens to be pregnant, insists that they be supportive.  And so they solider on with the meal and everything that follows.  Lars has crafted an elaborate backstory for Bianca, which he relays with confidence.  He knows her likes and dislikes, her hopes and dreams and fears.  It's funny.  It's sad.  And because of Lars and his childlike ways, it's also kind of sweet.

Before long, everyone in town pitches in to help with Bianca.  They invite her to potlucks and sewing circles, to volunteer at the hospital and sit on the school board.  And slowly, something happens.  As the community begins to accept Bianca, Lars begins to accept himself.  It turns out that Bianca is how he works through his issues, navigates social situations, and prepares for his first "real" girlfriend.  Because bringing all of his fears to the surface is the only way he can put them behind him.  When we first meet Lars, he's so anxious and self-contained that he can't even bring himself to hug Karin.  And yet, when things take a turn with Bianca, the whole town turns out for him.  Making him realize that he's not so alone after all.

Lars and the Real Girl blurs the lines between what's real and what's not.  Bittersweet and sensitive, it brings new meaning to embracing the bizarre.  Because sometimes going crazy is the only way to get back to normal.

 Both shirts from TJ Maxx.

Both bags Liz Claiborne from J. C. Penney's.

So . . . stripes.  This bold top twosome is somewhere between the spangly sex worker garb that Bianca arrives in and the down-home sweaters in which Lars swathes her.  As for the bags, they're more Good Ship Lollipop than trollop.

Which is just about as sweet as it gets for this more Liz Claiborne than Dolls Kill kind of girl.

Ryan's Goslings: We'd Follow You Anywhere . . .

. . . would be a fun name and tagline for a Ryan Gosling fan club.  At least, that's what I was thinking as I was making this Ryan-rific jewelry.  No, The Tote Trove doesn't suddenly have stars in its eyes (although if it did, then it would be Paul Rudd's mug winking amidst these rhinestones).  My little sister is getting married, and her co-matron of honor asked me to make this necklace and bracelet for her to wear at her bachelorette party.  (Kudos to her, by the way, for coming up with a classy alternative to the usual celebration of male nether regions.)  As luck would have it, I had plenty of charms and pendants just the right size for framing Ryan's kisser, and I was only too happy to contribute my craftiness to the heartthrob-themed hijinks.  Some wire and a few jump rings later, and I had a modern day Prince, ahem, Charming, on my hands.

Talk about one for the (note)books.

Movie Moment: Blue Valentine

I waited to rent Blue Valentine until it was 50% off.  Because I like my heartache at a discount. 

Simply stated, it's about a young married couple that has fallen out of love.  Dean (Ryan Gosling) is a house painter, and Cindy (Michelle Williams) is a nurse.  They have one child, a five-year-old daughter named Frankie.  Dean's "the fun one" and an attentive dad, but he drinks too much.  Cindy is a nag who won't let him touch her. This is how we first meet them, a setting that makes it easy to feel sorry for Dean and to wish that Cindy would soften a little.  But then the flashbacks start.  Like favorite photographs, they slip in and out through the couple's present misery, revealing how they fell in love and how they got to be where they are now.  A world of subtlety is unraveled in those snapshots, and it becomes clear that Dean and Cindy's relationship, although once seemingly pure, was disintegrating even as it was being built.  Before even meeting Cindy, Dean says something that foreshadows their demise.  Men, according to him, are more romantic than women because they live their lives resisting commitment until one amazing woman comes along and changes their minds.  Women, on the other hand, are always ready for commitment but weigh their options, choosing to settle down with the man who makes the most money.  Dean says all of this naively, yet is so convincing that even I had to stop and wonder if maybe we women are just a bunch of unfeeling opportunists.  But by the end of the movie, I realized that Dean's words had prophesized the problems that would result between him and Cindy.  He thinks finding the right person, that one amazing woman, is enough.  He doesn't realize that he needs to work at his relationship to keep it going, that's it's not ultimately how much money he makes that will determine his wife's happiness, but the level of emotional support he's willing to give her.  (Sorry to get all Dr. Phil on you, but it's true.)  Knowing this, my loyalties reversed, and I began rooting for Cindy to break free of Dean.  The movie is crafty this way, manipulating your viewpoint to unveil the truth through the most accurate lens.  Watching it is uncomfortable, but then, it's supposed to be.  Blue Valentine, after all, is a dirty-dish-towels-exposed slice of life, not a detergent commercial fantasy.

It's good, though.  Layered and gritty and all of those other things that make you think and feel.  I'm glad I shelled out the $2.99.                    

Movie Moment: Crazy Stupid Love

Nine times out of ten, the trailers spoil the movie. Yet when I went to see Crazy Stupid Love I was surprised to find that it offered more story and more layers than the previews had promised. Part romantic comedy, part drama, Crazy Stupid Love centers around Cal Weaver (Steve Carell), a nice-guy insurance salesman who's just been dumped by his wife (Julianne Moore). Depressed and alone, he starts haunting bars and spouting his sad story to anyone who will listen. Enter gorgeous, confident trust fund case Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling). Taking pity on Cal and his lack of game, Jacob revamps Cal's wardrobe, brings him to a salon, and shows him how to chat up women in a My Fair Lady-style transformation. (Well, if My Fair Lady were a bromance.)

But then Jacob meets Hannah (Emma Stone), the "game changer." Just jilted by her dweeby lawyer boyfriend (Josh Grobin), a guy whose only charm was his security, Hannah sets out to do something reckless only to soften Jacob with the allure of her naivete.

Had things ended here, this would've been a different kind of movie. A more surface kind of movie. But Love isn't about easy hookups or black and white relationships that can be saved on the strength of grand gestures. It's about the gray areas and the complications and the parts that get left in between.

If I say too much I'll spoil it, but this cast of characters, which includes Marisa Tomei and Kevin Bacon, is unexpectedly intertwined, creating plot twists that are not only entertaining but that deepen the story. And although the ending is marked by a grand gesture, it's more a culmination of the many false starts that came before it than an out-of-the-blue deus ex machina.

Tender and thought-provoking, Crazy Stupid Love is about all the stuff we have to go through to find and keep our soul mates. Yet it's spiked with just enough humor to prevent it from taking itself too seriously.