The Girls of Summer: ‘Barbie’ Wasn’t the Only Film About Women

Looking back at the films featuring girls and women this summer, one truth stands out. Barbie ruled. The film earned over $1 billion at the box office and, no doubt, gave the Barbie brand a massive shot in the arm. Articles and reviews about the film sucked up countless column inches, and the Los Angeles Times even ran an article about the punditry and analysis that the film generated. It was coverage about the coverage. But Barbie wasn't the only film to feature prominent female characters this summer. A number of movies offered portrayals that broadened the scope of roles for women, while others provided tired narratives that were clearly out of step with the current zeitgeist.

In spite of the considerable publicity the film received, I couldn’t reconcile that a film celebrating a doll that has helped to define unrealistic appearance standards for women for decades, could also convincingly conjure a subversive message about gender identity and feminism. The movie felt like a Trojan doll, a marketing opportunity masquerading as a progressive statement about women’s evolving feminist sensibilities. I may have been in the minority on this, but I was not alone. Writing for Vulture, film critic Alison Willmore noted, “The trouble with trying to sneak subversive ideas into a project so inherently compromised is that, rather than get away with something, you might just create a new way for a brand to sell itself.” Similarly, LA Times film critic Justin Chang wondered, “Can you really call out and perpetuate a stereotype at the same time?”

For the younger crowd, Disney delivered an only slightly retooled Little Mermaid in which Ariel pined for her prince once again. Even with a female lead of color, it’s still a story about a girl trading her voice for legs and romance. It was a bad deal the first time, and an even worse choice the second. Some tales are simply so dated and fundamentally flawed that even a nod to inclusion can’t save them.

In a more progressive story about the trials of romance and growing up, Ruby Gillman: Teenage Kraken found the titular character trying to fit in when she discovers, to her considerable horror, that she sprouts tentacles when she dives into the ocean to save a boy she likes. Cheered on by her enthusiastic and powerful grandmother, played by the venerable Jane Fonda, Ruby wrestles with her out-of-control kraken roots. Given the dearth of coming-of-age stories about girls, it was a welcome addition in spite of its close resemblance to last year’s Turning Red. Finally, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret offered a somewhat dated, if sincere, retelling of the novel featuring multiple generations of women in a single family.

Targeting a slightly older audience, Adele Lim’s Joy Ride continued the slow but steady march of women into the raunchy comedy genre, a door initially opened by Amy Heckerling’s Fast Times at Ridgemont High in 1982, and pushed slightly further ajar by Bridesmaids almost three decades later. Bridesmaids caused such a stir in 2011 that it prompted critics to predict that the film would permanently redefine female characters’ relationship to raunch. They dubbed it the “Bridesmaid’s effect.” Instead, the film opened the door a little wider for actresses specializing in this type of comedy including Amy Schumer, Melissa McCarthy, Tiffany Haddish, and Rebel Wilson. Of course, the twist in this summer’s Joy Ride is that the women taking the ride are Asian Americans, a group not typically associated with low humor. The film follows in the footsteps of the 2017 female-driven comedies Rough Night and Girls Trip and seems a little worse for the wear, though as many critics pointed out, Joy Ride also makes a number of insightful and not-so-obvious observations about gender and ethnic identity.

In a nod to a still older audience, Book Club: The Next Chapter featured a foursome of seasoned women — Diane Keaton, Jane Fonda, Mary Steenburgen, and Candice Bergen — on a jaunt to Italy. In spite of their paper-thin roles, seeing actresses of their caliber feels like a minor miracle as films rarely include females over 60, let alone four of them, in lead roles. The mainstream film industry is surely worse for this omission.

All in all, it was an odd summer for the girls, er, women, dolls, mermaids, and krakens of summer. The number of films featuring girls at the center of coming-of-age stories was heartening, as were the movies with women over 50 in major roles. The range of comedic roles for women expanded slightly to include more women of color, but audiences also saw women in thinly drawn and cringeworthy parts. Jennifer Lawrence deserved better than her role as a down-on-her-luck woman willing to trade sex for a car in No Hard Feelings. And a movie with a decidedly checkered feminist past rose to become the number one grossing film of the year. Like I said, it was an odd summer for women in the movies.