What 'Barbie' and 'The Little Mermaid' say about the world

Early controversy

Actress Bailey wasn't the first choice to play the new Ariel in the 2023 reimagination of The Little Mermaid.

Other actresses were considered, some of whom closely resembled the animated character presented by Disney in 1989, with fair skin, blue eyes, and red hair.

However, director Rob Marshall was massively impressed by emerging singer Bailey, who he first saw perform on stage when she was just 18 (Bailey is now 23). Marshall didn't see any obstacle to having an Ariel with dark skin; neither did Disney.

But a heated debate ensued, particularly on social media. Should Ariel's appearance today differ from the image that has been in the minds of a large portion of the audience for years? (A similar controversy broke out when Netflix cast a black actress as Cleopatra.)

Some critics claimed that they had formed a connection with the old image of The Little Mermaid and that Disney shouldn't underestimate this emotional attachment. Others argued that the mermaid in the original myth was not black and that Bailey's casting represented some kind of historical revisionism.

But the reality is far different. In the original story written in 1837, writer Hans Christian Andersen never specified the skin colour of the mermaid. It was Disney's artists who portrayed her as white.

It's astonishing, then, that so many people stood fast in their belief of what a mythical creature – part magic, part human – should look like.

We often forget that one of the most potent characteristics of myths or fairy tales, and the heart of their ethereal nature, is their ability to be constantly reinterpreted, expressing our real lives in different times and places.

And if we were to cater to the "emotional attachments" of cinemagoers, as per the first argument, then another question inevitably pops up: why produce new versions of any story at all?

Why not simply allow the audience to revisit old films, rather than opening the floor to blast filmmakers for their creative choices?

Nonetheless, Marshall did a great job in discovering the talent of Bailey, who adeptly performed nearly half of her scenes in the film without dialogue. The majority of Bailey's screentime was when Ariel was transitioning from her life as a mermaid, whose voice was taken away by the sorceress, to her life as a human.

She also offered an excellent vocal performance, delivering song after beloved song, which expressed the inner voice of mermaid Ariel. As per the myth, her voice was thought to possess magical qualities, which enchanted the prince's heart.

More importantly, Marshall's casting choice for the protagonist injected some diversity into the storytelling. For instance, Ariel had six sisters with varying appearances, one with Asian features and another with Scandinavian traits, among others.

This didn't detract from the essence of the myth but added a new, refreshing dimension to the Little Mermaid tale. After all, it's only natural that the seven daughters of Triton (Javier Bardem), the king of the seven seas, don't all share the same look.

Bans and more

Barbie's controversy looked different.

Producer Margot Robbie was excited to make a movie about the popular children's doll, while also starring in it. In the first scene, Barbie descends, almost miraculously, from space onto Earth. A blonde-haired, doe-eyed Robbie seems made for the role.

Behind the scenes, director Gerwig and co-writer Noah Baumbach had complete freedom in shaping Barbie's first cinematic foray, unlike the dilemma of The Little Mermaid. There is no real story or history behind the doll, which seems to have it all; in the film, the cast sings: "Today is beautiful like yesterday and like tomorrow, and like every day."

But, to go against the notion that Barbie, by pushing limited and conventional beauty standards, is responsible for insecurity and depression among young girls, the film featured other Barbies with diverse features, including darker complexions and a variety of body shapes.

We even saw a hijab-wearing Barbie sitting next to the Stereotypical Barbie in the Pink House – the film's equivalent of the White House. Yet the film was banned in some Arab countries, regardless of whether hijab-wearing Barbie was meant to appease them.

The main reason for this ban may very well be the portrayal of women exercising some form of psychological and political dominance over men in a pure fantasy setting. This alone indicates how some powerful figures in the region might perceive (and fear) the status of women.

Yet, after the premiere of Barbie, there were no protests or calls for women to copy Barbie's lifestyle. And thanks to technology, a complete ban on the movie was virtually impossible. Within a few days of its release, pirated versions began to appear online.

The film's record-breaking box office success, both in the Arab world and globally, shows that almost everyone was looking forward to watching the film, regardless of what Barbie was going to say, or how she would be depicted.

As the trailer suggests, it's for people who love Barbie – and people who hate her, too.

Barbie, the lukewarm activist

For those well-acquainted with Barbie, perhaps even having played with the doll as a child, it might be a stretch to imagine her in poverty, or even picture her deviating from her all-American image. It might be even harder to imagine her championing environmental causes or engaging in discussions about climate change.

But that's what Barbie presents.

However, there are inherent contradictions within the character. First, Barbie is made of plastic, which is one of the environment's worst enemies, and she is essentially a creation of the capitalist system, which often disregards the harm it inflicts on the planet.

In the movie, Barbie does nothing to actively rebel against this well-oiled machine. (She does escape from the CEO of Mattel, once, when he decides to lock her in a box to send her back to the fictional world she came from.)

Towards the start of the film, Weird Barbie – who plays the role of a fortune-teller or magician in the heroine's journey – presents Stereotypical Barbie with two choices: either stay in Barbie Land and gradually suffer the loss of her ideal physical attributes, or descend to Earth and "explore the truth of the universe," as she puts it. However, it becomes evident that she has no real choice and is compelled to explore this "universe."

But Gerwig never really pushes Barbie into the deep end. She merely lets her dip her toes into the kiddie pool of real-world issues, in a way that does nothing to shock the protagonist or her viewers.

For example, we see an old lady sitting peacefully reading in one scene, or teenagers discussing the falsehoods behind global beauty standards in another. That's about it. There's nothing about wars and nothing about the potential threats of global nuclear annihilation.

All that was left, apparently, to Nolan's Oppenheimer.

Ultimately, Barbie operates as an entertainment offering that aims to promote Mattel and its merchandise.

The film focuses on a particular form of capitalistic lifestyles where wealth equals achievement. This doesn't stray from the rhetoric used by many self-development advocates across various cultures, including Arab ones.

A quick visit to YouTube shows that Barbie has not introduced anything new here; instead, it may have simply summarised and repackaged these ideas.

Ultimately, we all desire to enjoy ourselves and the world without obstacles, and that's the dream or illusion that Barbie sells to us as revolutionary.

In the future, someone might offer a new take on the Barbie story or present a narrative that opposes the doll's desire for immortality. On that day, viewers may be up in arms about "changing" the narrative that the "first" Barbie had set.

Ariel's plight, a parable about migration

Like many other kids, I personally experienced an attachment to the The Little Mermaid. I spent a considerable amount of time trying to envision this enchanting creature who turned the life of a fisherman upside down.

It's one of few fairy tales where the woman is the devoted heroine, extending her hand to rescue her love interest, rather than the other way around.

Over the years, I read various versions of The Little Mermaid, each suited to different stages of my life. Then I encountered Andersen's original rendition. At that point, I felt a profound sadness – I couldn't quite wrap my head around why fate was so unkind to Ariel.

But that's how most mythological tales originated – they were never intended for children but eventually found their way to them.

I recently reread the story and began to see it as a poignant and sad allegory for migration. The mermaid, fascinated with the human world, takes a significant risk to become a part of it. However, the world strips her of her voice (or her language, in certain interpretations), then deceives her and denies her complete integration.

Consequently, the heroine finds herself as a captive, suspended between two realms, unable to return to her original world and unable to attain her new aspirations.

Even though the 2023 film commences with a line from the original tale – "No tears for the little mermaid... nevertheless, she suffers endlessly" – screenwriter David Magee and director Marshall opted to build a safe haven for the unruly heroine this time.

One can argue that the new interpretation aligns with the nature of current affairs. It seeks to celebrate the "other", as Marshall himself indicates in dialogue with the film's cast on YouTube.

The film, which presents songs and dances featuring Ariel and a cast of colourful ocean creatures, also serves to highlight the damage caused to her environment as a result of pollution and the invasive interference of humans.

This reckless disregard for Ariel's homeland provides valid justification for her desire to leave and explore the new world.

Barbie is content; Ariel wants more

The Little Mermaid juxtaposes its early emphasis on the beauty of the human world with the recognition of the damage humans inflict on the planet. This is in contrast to the narrative of Barbie, where the protagonist is content in her plastic world and is forced to embark on a journey into the human realm.

Furthermore, the screenplay of The Little Mermaid emphasises that the human world is a blend of different backgrounds, cultures, and races. Unlike the original myth, the film portrays Prince Eric, played by Jonah Hauer-King, as an adopted child who accidentally finds himself in the Queen's palace. (This provides a connection with the story of the Prophet Moses.)

The Queen adopts Eric and makes him the heir to the kingdom. There is no conflict or discord in the film arising from the Queen's dark skin and the prince's fair skin.

Neither does the conflict in The Little Mermaid arise from the mermaid losing her sense of self, as in the case of Barbie.

Instead, it emerges from an underlying hostility between two worlds – the underwater world, and the terrestrial world of humans. The film's true challenge is finding a way for Ariel and Prince Eric's love to bridge the chasm between these different realms.

This suggests, perhaps, that migration can lead to happy endings, where new voices are added to the world, rather than taken out of it.