Exploring The Themes And Performances In "Barbie": A Deep Dive Into Ryan Gosling's Ken

The world of "Barbie" has captivated audiences with its vibrant visuals and thought-provoking themes. At the heart of this cinematic experience lies Ryan Gosling's portrayal of Ken, a character who navigates the complexities of masculinity in a whimsical yet critical narrative. As viewers indulge in the spectacle, they are also invited to reflect on deeper questions about identity, societal expectations, and emotional vulnerability.

In the film, the musical number "I'm Just Ken" serves as a pivotal moment, blending humor and poignancy as it highlights the struggles men face in conforming to traditional notions of masculinity. This fusion of entertainment and social commentary not only showcases Gosling's impressive vocal talent but also positions the film as a conversation starter about male identity in contemporary society.

As we delve into the world of "Barbie," it becomes evident that the film transcends mere entertainment. It challenges stereotypes and invites audiences to explore the implications of gender roles, making it a significant cultural phenomenon. Join us as we unpack the multifaceted layers of this cinematic journey, focusing on Gosling's Ken and the broader themes at play.

The Mojo Dojo Casa House

In the film, Gosling’s Ken — Barbie’s anxiety-ridden, try-hard, beta-status boyfriend — is revitalized by the patriarchy of the real world and returns to indoctrinate everyone in Barbieland. And though he acquires everything a man could want (Horses! Hummers! Mini fridges with beer!), he still doesn’t have the undivided attention he desperately craves from Barbie.

Shirtless in the bedroom of his Mojo Dojo Casa House, Ken laments his existence as a superfluous accessory created to complement her. “Doesn’t seem to matter what I do, I’m always number two / No one knows how hard I tried,” Gosling sings melodramatically, to gentle piano accompaniment. Though he is playing what Times critic Justin Chang calls “the neediest, most pathetically insecure Ken of the lot,” he is doing so as intensely as he did Neil Armstrong in “First Man” and a pained husband in “Blue Valentine.”

“I just knew he could be really funny but also would mine the depths of this kind of outrageous conundrum that Ken finds himself in, as a person,” director Greta Gerwig told The Times of casting Gosling. “It was the gravitas he’s able to bring as an actor that was part of what made everything so heartfelt — but also so funny.”

The Beach-Off

Gosling’s Ken then heads into the long-teased “beach-off” with his archrival: Ken (Simu Liu), who constantly undercuts him in front of Barbie and repeatedly makes him feel inadequate. Gosling’s mob rides into battle on paddle boats reminiscent of cannon-loaded ships, while Liu’s crew carries him over their shoulders, spinning umbrellas like wheels and holding stick horses as if they were human chariots.

As they approach each other in a comical slow-motion — and with a threatening arsenal of frisbees, beach balls, tennis rackets and pool floaties — Gosling’s Ken continues to reflect on his romantic impotence, which spirals into an identity crisis. “I’m just Ken / Anywhere else I’d be a 10 / Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blond fragility?” he wails over Wolfgang Van Halen on the electric guitar and Foo Fighters’ Josh Freese on the drums.

The scene is vibrant, goofy pandemonium — these are toys fighting each other with toys! — but the actors all play it straight, as if these Kens are ready to end lives. Meanwhile, Gosling’s Ken continues his melancholic monologue about his purpose and self-worth, now to a more upbeat rhythm. “I wanna know what it’s like to love, to be the real thing,” he sings, with a hunger in his eyes.

The Dream Ballet

Gosling and Liu’s Ken-on-Ken clash sets off a collective trance, transporting the action to a pink-and-blue soundstage. In a tribute to the stylized dream ballets of golden-age musicals like “Oklahoma!” and “Singin’ in the Rain” — both of which Gerwig screened for the cast during filming for inspiration — a total of 44 Kens, wearing black outfits and Barbie-pink socks, absurdly strike each other with aggressive dance moves.

After urgently spinning in symmetrical formations to full-on ‘80s synthpop, Gosling’s Ken is revealed anew. He helps his fellow Kens up from the floor and giggles after they kiss him on the cheek in gratitude. He is no longer threatened by other men, or the expression of affection among them.

“I’m just Ken and I’m enough / And I’m great at doing stuff / So hey, check me out, yeah, I’m just Ken,” the Kens sing in unison. Shortly after “I’m Just Ken” ends, Kingsley Ben-Adir’s Ken tells the crowd, “We were only fighting because we didn’t know who we were.”

What It Means

In just over five minutes, “I’m Just Ken” resolves the narrative and emotional arc of Gosling’s Ken, transforming him from a petty, vengeful villain into a man who got caught up in society’s toxic masculinity — a taboo topic for plenty of men in real life. “Life is hard for everybody,” said Gerwig to The Times. “I think equally men have held themselves to just outrageous standards that no one can meet.”

Oscar pundits are already eyeing possible original song nominations for Ronson and Wyatt, who previously won for their work on the “A Star Is Born” hit “Shallow.” Gosling’s name is being tossed in as well for his performance. But he doesn’t take credit outright, especially for “I’m Just Ken.”

“Ken sang that song,” he told The Times with a straight face. “I never sang like that in my life. I don’t know why or how that happened.”