One of my favourites, Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper, follows the parallel narratives of Anneliese, a spirited princess bound in an arranged marriage to save her kingdom from bankruptcy, and Erika, an indentured servant working as a seamstress to pay off her parents' debt. When they meet under unusual circumstances, not only do they discover their identical appearances, but also the similar nature of the burdensome duties they've resigned themselves to fulfill, even though it means letting go of their dreams.
I could go on for pages about the movie's compelling characters and captivating plot, but in hopes that I've convinced you to check it out for yourself, I'll refrain from spoiling it too much. Instead, I want to touch on this film's revolutionary impact on the world of Barbie movies, as well as children's media in general.
The original Barbie narrative started back in 1959, advertising the classic concept that a girl's value was contingent on her attractiveness to men. Young women intuitively saw these dolls as role model figures, and strove to fit into their narrowly defined mold of what "attractiveness" meant. This was, and is, one of Mattel's most common critiques: the toxic directive that if you aren't conventionally attractive, you aren't acceptable.
That isn't to say role models are inherently bad, though. In fact, I would argue they're the opposite. When you see someone you identify with being something or doing something, it gives you a sense of what's equally possible for yourself. In sociology, this framework of feasibility is known as a "plausibility structure." Whether consciously or not, everyone lives according to a set of boundaries, or a plausibility structure, established by the skills and margins of the people they look up to.
That's the stem of Mattel's initial problem. Its original line of dolls presented a restricted plausibility structure, in that it excluded girls of colour, plus-sized girls, and queer girls from achieving the same level of success as tall, blonde, Barbie-like girls. But where the early dolls failed, Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper prevailed. Along with implementing a plausibility structure grounded in reality, by being the first Mattel film not to involve magic, fairies, or any fantastical elements, the entire movie is a subversion of the wonted Barbie narrative.
When Anneliese and Erika meet for the first time, Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper identifies the importance of having role models, or "girls like you," by means of an undeniably catchy musical number.
This idea embodies itself in Wolfie's subplot. If you haven't seen the movie, Wolfie is Erika's adorably charming pet barking cat. After meeting the princess's cat, however, Wolfie starts learning to meow in an attempt to change himself and fit the mold of what it means to be a cat. A second, equally effective song confirms that while the people (or cats) in your life should inspire you, influence you, and broaden your plausibility structure, it is ultimately most important to be true to who you are. Or as Erika puts it, "if you bark, celebrate it."
All this, not to mention the historical accuracy, expert songwriting, and admittedly some childhood nostalgia, has made Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper a fan favourite. Growing up with such progressive media has altered the way I look at the different relationships that have influence in my life, and I'm sure there are others who can say the same. Everyone needs someone to look up to, and someone to embrace your differences with, which is why knowing "a girl like you" is so important.
This an excellent movie for everyone!
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