Barbenheimer: The Movies Are Back

Happy Barbenheimer Weekend to all who celebrate. Suspenders and pink cowboy hats at the ready, this weekend the #Kenergy will be the atomic energy created by nuclear fission.

In typical Q fashion, I took the day off work to commit to the Barbeinheimer bit and watch both films in one day. In typical bisexual she/they fashion, Greta Gerwig and Christopher Nolan are two of my favourite currently working filmmakers, and in typical attention seeking desperate for validation fashion, I dressed up for the occasion.

I’m a Barbenheimer girl in a Barbenehimer world

Both films are astounding. Gerwig has, once again, delivered a beautiful tribute to the trials and tribulations of girlhood, wrapping it up in pink plastic and beautiful gowns. It’s a skewering of the mythos of Barbie TM whilst paying tribute to the personhood behind any IP.

Oppenheimer meanwhile is a devastating 3 hour biopic dressed up as a thriller. It’s Mank meets The Social Network meets Batman Begins and I mean that in the best way possible. There were a few scenes with such tension and horror that I physically couldn’t breathe, the performances are pitch-perfect (Robert Downey Jr miraculously remembered how to act following his Marvel duties), and it’s probably Nolan’s best film since 2008.

Whether or not the films were any good is beside the point though. The 11am weekday IMAX showing of a 3-hour-long historical biopic was sold out. The lobbies were packed with people of all ages in various states of Barbenheimer fancy dress. Four hours later, the lobby for the 16:15 showing of Barbie was heaving. Literally everyone was wearing pink of some sort, there were queues for a photo in the Barbie Box, and shouts of “Hi Barbie” filled the venue.

Yet despite the crowds, as soon as the BFI rating showed up for both films, there was silence. Then laughs, gasps, cries. For two to three hours, a crowded room full of strangers weren’t just detached bodies in a hall – we were Oppenheimer struggling with the weight of what he had created, we were Barbie trying to find her place as a woman in the world, we were there for the first implosion of the atomic bomb, and we were there for the dawn of Barbie.

It’s easy to have felt disenfranchised by the cinema experience over the past few years. Whilst there have been plenty of excellent independent films and non-Hollywood films, it seems that the only things in the cinema are sequels, reboots and countless soulless superhero films. Meanwhile, Netflix seems to have given up on auteur-driven stories like The Irishman and Roma, and has moved onto 30 Rock Style algorithm-driven fake movies like Your Place Or Mine and The Mother. As Hollywood shuts down due to corporate greed and the want to cut corners, Barbenheimer weekend has proved that there’s still an appetite for well-written original films with an inherently human core.

Hopefully, Hollywood listens to the box office numbers and realises that the working actors and writers who can craft such magic deserve better. There’s an appetite out there for well-crafted movies made with care and consideration. People care about real stories, and people care about the movies. Cinema is back, don't let the studio executives take it away. 

(I should add that Mission Impossible 7 also rules, and I will support Tom Cruise’s various attempts to end his life as long as he keeps making them. I’ve spent the past two weeks marathoning all the previous films. This is a Mission Impossible stan account. My only regret was not doing the triple feature.)

Tom Cruise running to the cinema

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