This isn’t your typical Dreamhouse, or anyone else’s for that matter. Prior to Greta Gerwig’s transformative influence leading it towards Oscar contention, a Dreamhouse akin to this was unprecedented.
Emerging during the peak of the Obama era, the animated web series “Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse” foreshadowed the fourth-wall-shattering, consumerism-satirizing, and Ken-mocking humor by over a decade. It’s witty, humorous, currently streaming with a 12-episode lineup on Netflix, and for those seeking more of the movie’s delightfully subversive charm, it’s all readily available.
Crafted primarily by David Wiebe and Robin J. Stein and overseen by Mattel as a collection of web and YouTube shorts, subsequently consolidated into the 12 Netflix installments from 2012–15, “Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse” diverges significantly from the plethora of other CGI Barbie animated series saturating the streaming platform. It doesn’t conform to the standard comedic-adventure children’s cartoon format, although it remains child-friendly (without any references to Ken’s flesh-toned bulge). Similar to the movie, it serves as a subtly sharp satire of the very doll it aims to promote. While the opinion of Barbie’s creator, Ruth Handler, remains uncertain, Don Draper would likely approve.
Wiebe, Stein, and their adept team of writers, animators, and voice actors (led by Kate Higgins portraying Barbie) delved into decades of Barbie’s imagery and stereotypes to extract adult-oriented humor from this children’s plaything. In the process, they laid the groundwork for the film’s future direction. At this juncture, one might raise an eyebrow at the vivid pink plasticity of the series, but trust me, I’ve encountered skepticism regularly since my kids stumbled upon the series a decade ago. However, perceptions tend to shift post-viewing. “Life in the Dreamhouse” demands firsthand experience, akin to the Matrix. Fans of the movie will discern the striking similarities between the two.
Located in a utopian Malibu constructed atop ancient glitter aqueducts, “Life in the Dreamhouse” revolves around the fashion-forward and versatile Barbie Roberts and her devoted companion, Ken. The ensemble includes friends, family, rivals, pets, and even a sentient closet, featuring Nikki and Teresa as besties, competitive Summer, traditional Midge, conniving twins Raquelle and Ryan, and Barbie’s younger sisters Skipper, Stacie, and Chelsea.
The group embarks on various comedic escapades — from a rain-drenched beach outing to a pet bath day, a swarm of mischievous Barbie-bots, and more — incorporating reality show elements such as confessional cutaways, a reunion episode, and a humorous take on “The Amazing Race,” all while consistently breaking the fourth wall to provide ongoing commentary on the antics.
Managing a multitude of roles requires a nation of Barbies, as elucidated in the movie where Barbie boasts “135 careers — and counting!” Yet, how does “Life in the Dreamhouse” reconcile this without a distinct Barbie for each profession? It doesn’t, and that’s precisely the joke. This Barbie embodies every facet of the doll’s persona, having served as a flight attendant (career No. 37), a model, a rock star, and more.
The ensuing continuity challenges become a fount of comedy. In an episode centered on Barbie obtaining her driver’s license, characters question her past roles, leading to comical exchanges like, “Weren’t you a race-car driver?” or attempts to calculate her age based on her myriad occupations. The romantic relationship between Barbie and Ken in “Life in the Dreamhouse” is unequivocal, unlike the movie’s ambiguous portrayal. However, Dreamhouse Ken differs significantly from the movie’s portrayal, embodying a devoted partner who commemorates the 43rd anniversary of their first hand-holding incident with a special date. In a playful Superman parody, he even engages in the Lois Lane “Can you read my mind?” routine.
Essentially, Ken enters his “simp era.” While movie Ken fades under Barbie’s gaze, animated Ken exists solely to cater to his beloved. An episode humorously depicts his inability to retain a job as he rushes back to the Dreamhouse to open jars (already opened by Barbie) or eliminate spiders (mere sweater fuzz) whenever his “Barbie sense” tingles. Displaying superhuman abilities, he promptly fulfills any request from Barbie or her sisters. At one point, he abandons a space shuttle launch to deliver human-sized snacks for a movie night featuring Barbie’s favorite film, “Sad and Romantic: The Sequel.”
Ken tirelessly endeavors to enhance Barbie’s life, introducing moderately successful inventions like CLOSET, the sentient fashion AI program safeguarding her extensive wardrobe. With a single glowing red eye, CLOSET parodies HAL 9000 from “2001: A Space Odyssey,” pre-empting Gerwig’s Kubrick homage. Even when constructing a Ken Den reminiscent of Mojo Dojo Casa House, it merely serves as a waiting area for male dolls while the female counterparts indulge in shopping. Despite occasional mishaps, his good intentions shine through.
“Lif in the Dreamhouse” doesn’t feign realism regarding Barbie, Ken, or their companions, much like the movie. Both the series and its characters consistently peel back the plastic facade, incorporating jokes acknowledging their doll status, along with close-ups on Barbie’s perpetually pointed feet reminiscent of the movie.
The references range from subtle to absurd. The show’s inaugural fashion show features Barbie in the iconic black-and-white striped swimsuit that launched the original doll, a motif echoed by Margot Robbie in the movie. Over time, the references escalate to absurd levels, including Midge’s envy of her friends’ articulation points, foldout assembly instructions for cars, and amusing anecdotes about unruly doll hair, catering to fans of Weird Barbie.
A standout moment involves Skipper hosting a game show to determine who knows Barbie best. Rapid-fire responses from her BFFs yield answers like “1959,” “Millicent,” “Barbie & the Rockers,” “the moon,” “Mermaid Fairy Princess,” “George and Martha Roberts,” and “Sugar, spice, and polyvinyl chloride,” offering a treasure trove of Barbie-themed trivia.
Recall the scene in the movie where Barbie gracefully descends from the second story to the ground, reflecting the notion that girls simply lift their Barbies rather than making them traverse stairs, as elucidated by Helen Mirren. Or the sequence where Mattel executives strive to repackage life-size extradimensional-visitor Barbie. Such visual gags constitute the essence of “Life in the Dreamhouse.”
When Barbie secures her driver’s license, she struggles to hold the oversized document with both hands, mimicking a human driver’s license in scale. During a packing episode, her friends envelop her copious belongings in a cardboard box matching the Dreamhouse’s dimensions, employing a comically large roll of packing tape akin to a hamster wheel.
The oversized heads stand out as a personal favorite. Barbie showcases a makeup room featuring a colossal bust akin to the styling heads used for hair and makeup practice, evoking amusement. A brief “Indiana Jones” parody replaces the boulder with an enormous bald Barbie head, complete with visible scalp holes, which remains unsettling even in animated form.
While “Life in the Dreamhouse” doesn’t delve as deeply into themes of feminism, patriarchy, or consumerism as the movie does, the underlying motifs persist. Fraternal twins Ryan and Raquelle continuously conspire to drive a wedge between Barbie and Ken, embodying stereotypical male and female weaknesses. Ryan epitomizes vain, macho foolishness, envisioning himself as the ultimate doll, while Raquelle epitomizes backstabbing materialism, coveting Barbie’s walk-in closet akin to Gollum fixating on the ring. Their antics underscore the crass aspects of living dolls, offering a light-hearted yet insightful take on gender dynamics.
While it may not rival America Ferrera’s Oscar-worthy performances, the show subtly weaves in themes of consumerism and societal norms through Ryan and Raquelle’s characters, providing a satirical mirror to real-world dynamics within the whimsical realm of the Dreamhouse.