Barbie was the biggest movie of 2023. It made almost $1.5 billion at the box office and propelled director Greta Gerwig into the mainstream.
This surprised some, although not because a movie based on a toy did good business. The Lego Movie proved the viability of that strategy years ago. It’s Gerwig’s deliberate shift to big-budget, mainstream moviemaking that caught existing fans off guard.
She spent much of her early career as a mumblecore mainstay before directing indie-aligned dramas Lady Bird and Little Women. Following up with a glitzy (albeit socially conscientious) comedy fantasy looked like a leftfield move. Particularly to the type of people who spend time policing the concept of ‘selling out’.
Gerwig’s trajectory as a director is one of the most important, progressive steps Hollywood has seen. Let me explain why and what’s at stake.
Pigeonholes and Perceptions
In 2010, Kathryn Bigelow won the Academy Award for Best Director for The Hurt Locker. Discussion at the time centered on the competition between her and her former husband, James Cameron, in this category. This is retrospectively a bit icky, with the battle-of-the-sexes/exes angle belonging to the last century.
Bigelow’s win made her the first solo female director in the history of the Oscars to take the top accolade. In the almost 15 years since just two other female directors have been recognized. Chloe Zhao in 2021 for Nomadland, and Jane Campion the following year for The Power of the Dog. It’s a pitiful amount of progress when you consider the male-dominated lineup of nominees at each and every ceremony.
Looking back, the framing of Bigelow’s triumph is even more problematic. There’s a sense that she was being given a pat on the back for making a movie with which male audiences could connect. It’s intense, suspenseful, and bombastic when it needs to be.
The tone in the media at the time suggested she was the equal of Cameron. The implication being “Wow, this woman is as good at directing as a man!”. Or even “You wouldn’t even know that a woman directed this!”. That it took another decade for a female director to get an Oscar speaks volumes. This is also the backdrop against which Greta Gerwig began her ascent.
Addressing the Market
In the wake of Barbie’s success, Gerwig has made clear her intentions to focus on big studio projects. She has written the script for Disney’s live-action Snow White remake and is making a pair of films for Netflix based on The Chronicles of Narnia.
This is particularly interesting because Gerwig has escaped Bigelow’s fate of being pitted against male directors at every turn. She has been showered with praise for putting out pictures that are at once deeply personal and widely relatable. Audiences have flocked to them because, frankly, they serve a market that Hollywood often overlooks.
It parallels the surprise that accompanied the success of John M. Chu’s Crazy Rich Asians in 2018. Representation equals ticket sales. This goes double for groups who rarely see themselves represented onscreen authentically, let alone as the majority of the cast.
The Shifting Gaze
My first introduction to Greta Gerwig was in Greenberg. This 2010 com-dram is more interesting for the circumstances surrounding its production. It was written by director Noah Baumbach and his then-wife Jennifer Jason Lee. The couple divorced shortly after the film’s release. Baumbach has been in a relationship with Gerwig ever since.
In the film, a middle-aged, middle-class former musician played by Ben Stiller falls for the much younger personal assistant of his brother. That’s Gerwig’s character; we see her through Roger’s eyes. She’s quirky, vulnerable, and of a different generation. She connects him to his youth, stirring up passion and regret. It’s a typical mid-life crisis narrative, elevated by the charm and charisma of its cast.
2012’s Frances Ha is a step in the right direction. Baumbach is back in the director’s chair, and Gerwig stars, but this time, she shares a writing credit. The fragmented life of a moderately directionless 20-something is not focused through the male gaze to anywhere near the same extent as in Greenberg. But it’s a film that can’t help but be tarred with the manic pixie dream girl brush. Luckily, it’s applied with a feather-light touch.
The Director’s Chair
Lady Bird might be her first film as a solo director, but 2008’s Nights and Weekends gave Gerwig her first taste of control behind the camera. This micro-budget movie, co-directed by fellow mumblecore stalwart Joe Swanberg, is low-key in a typical way for the genre. It’s also one that Gerwig has recently reflected on with some trepidation, specifically in relation to the sex scenes.
Regardless, it’s a claustrophobic affair. Tight shot composition conveys the awkwardness of a couple trying to make a long-distance relationship work. It’s a far cry from Barbie’s day-glow musical set pieces. Yet there’s an energy to Gerwig’s performance that does carry across this divide.
Lady Bird itself is exactly what you might expect from a director who cut their teeth in the indie com-dram scene. From the sepia-tinted color pallet to the coming-of-age plot, it nails self-discovery and nostalgia simultaneously.
Little Women is a step up in its accomplished direction, the confidence of its humor, and its emotional impact. It also pivots into Gerwig’s now all-consuming focus on adapting existing works. To be fair, she’s probably had enough of acting in or writing about the domestic minutiae of modern couples.
The Barbie Complex
For most people, Barbie was their first experience of Gerwig’s writing and directing. It’s certainly an unconventional entry point, capturing the joy and silliness of her early career without the mumbling or introspection.
Barbie is also a movie that wears its heart on its sleeve. The social commentary of the plot is unambiguous. The brand tie-ins with Mattel are unapologetic. The progressive message is served as a sugared pill. And the people who needed a dose of it most almost certainly didn’t see it anyway.
But honestly, who cares? We should be beyond the point of holding female directors to higher ethical standards than their male contemporaries. Phil Lord and Christopher Miller didn’t receive nearly as much heat for the promotional underpinnings of The Lego Movie. It’s only fair to praise for taking the Barbie payday and doing something at least mildly subversive with it. Pairing high key lighting with a feminist plot is more than you’ll get from most mass-market directors.
What Comes Next
I’m a big fan of the idea that women must have the opportunity to make bad films. With just three solo female directors having an Oscar to their name, the number of high-profile people in this position is still perilously small.
For Greta Gerwig, I want more directing and writing jobs in flagship projects. I want some of them to be mediocre. And I want this fact to be discussed without needing to mention her gender. It might take time to reach this point, but the dream of a day when men and women can flounder creatively in equal numbers can’t be too far away.
The good news is that Barbie’s success shows there’s money to be made backing the projects that Gerwig is interested in. Commercial confidence gives directors room to experiment and fail. The market pushes through progressive movies from more diverse teams. It might all trickle up to an aging male CEO in the end, but the wheels of positive change turn slowly. It’s better than them not budging at all.
Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick
Taken as a whole, Greta Gerwig’s career reflects unconventional power. Early on, she was often viewed through a male lens, at once cool, confident, vulnerable, and flighty. When she got her own voice as a writer and an actor, the balance tilted towards nuance and complexity. This blossomed into Lady Bird and flourished as the box office smash Barbie.
Hopefully, it’s a type of power that proves you don’t need to be a dictator to direct. This, more than her gender, is a form of positive representation in Hollywood.
The ‘big stick’ is not the style but the end result. Her movies are meticulously made, which has only become more apparent with her move to the mainstream. The respect and acclaim among her peers and movie critics cement this reputation.
It is a little disheartening to think her time as an indie auteur has ended. But with plenty of the mumblecore set still plowing their preferred furrow, it’s easier to let Greta Gerwig go. If her next big step has to be injecting spirit and laughs into fodder for Disney and Netflix, I’m here for it.
