Every Movie Performance That Brought Us Closer to the Glory of Ken in Barbie
“To be honest, when I found out the patriarchy wasn’t just about horses, I lost interest.”
I know I’ve written a lot about Barbie in the past couple months. It was all over my Year in Review, my Oscars, my predictions. However, I think it is truly one of those movies that deserves all of the analysis and praise being heaped upon it. Specifically, in this article, I want to focus on the glorious performance of Ryan Gosling as Ken, which feels like it might just be the top performance of the decade so far? I’d need to evaluate more, but it is certainly in the superlative echelon.
Without just going back over all the things that made Gosling such a dynamite choice for Ken, I thought another way to celebrate it could be to consider all the ingredients in the rhinestone-festooned blender that led to this iconic, Oscar-nominated creation. This article features all the movie performances I could conjure in my memory and in my analytical brain that seem like they were influences on Gosling’s Ken take. Or, at the very least, we could not have received what Gosling did as Ken if we did not have these (strictly cinematic) turns first. I’m not sure if any of these are accurate or even known by Gosling, but they feel right in my soul and I’m glad to think of them all existing in the same cosmic menagerie.
Ryan Gosling as Holland March in The Nice Guys
Obviously, you couldn’t have Gosling as Ken without all that Gosling did before. The Mickey Mouse Club, to be sure, but also his turn into comedic films was vital when it came to crafting a viable Ken performance. I’m not yet sure which Gosling role is funnier — Holland March or Ken — but such a debate is beside the point. What matters is that he’s funny and a deft enough actor to possess a firm handle on both of these characters, which allows the humor they deliver to be so genuine. Something that is easily spotted in Gosling’s Ken performance is how clear it is within his purview and how lived-in the character seems, even though he could be outlandish with the wrong control over the character.
Gene Kelly as Andy Miller in The Young Girls of Rochefort
If the Oscars are any indication, one of the most memorable elements of the Ken performance came in the dream ballet sequence. Greta Gerwig has made no secret of the movies she used as touchstones for Barbie, including many films by Jacques Demy. Performance-wise, I think we have to look to Gene Kelly’s American transplant character into the Technicolor French world of The Young Girls of Rochefort. He dances through the screen and dominates it when he’s on it, but is also able to be reserved enough to pull back and relinquish full control to the title characters. If George Clooney is our newer embodiment of Cary Grant, perhaps Gosling is the Kelly we never knew we had.
Michael Keaton as Ken in Toy Story 3
There have been innumerable adaptations of Ken on screen before 2023’s Barbie, but only one was ever as much in the mainstream. Michael Keaton was an odd choice to provide a vocal performance for Ken when the major Mattel toy was finally introduced into the world of child’s playthings, but it absolutely works. Ken is kind of a nothing character in the world of toys, so being able to characterize him as a materialistic, deeply feeling, totally smitten person in Toy Story 3 was a crucial step into the future of characters who align with this metrosexual bend. As the kids say, Keaton walked, so Gosling could sprint faster than the cheetah who was used as inspiration for his patterned sequins.
Chris Pratt as Peter Quill in Guardians of the Galaxy
I know the anti-Chris Pratt is always out in full on the Internet, but this brigade is one that forgets how revelatory his breakout in the 2014 Marvel classic was. The 2010s in cinema was a decade that was filled with irony, self-deprecation, and — of course — superhero films. The zenith of this was likely 2014’s Guardians of the Galaxy, which brought a knowing, winking self-awareness to the absurdity of a superhero team that included a raccoon and a tree. Leading this team was the person we knew at the time as Andy Dwyer from Parks and Recreation. Obviously, Marvel has a strong touch when it comes to transforming comedy television stars into superhero action leads. But bringing in a self-defeating turn from Pratt was vital for redefining the leading man archetype that would eventually wind its way towards Ken.
Chris Hemsworth as Kevin Beckman in Ghostbusters (2016)
A big part of the 2010s’ tonal shift at the cinema came from how we view our leading man heartthrobs. Pratt’s turn as Peter Quill was necessary for the irony of it all. However, Hemsworth’s turn in Ghostbusters was necessary for what has been described as — for lack of a better word — the “himbo” movement. That is, people enjoy when hot, charming men act like complete morons in movies. Having Hemsworth steal a lot of the critical praise from this film (I will not dissect the overtly stupid culture wars about it) gave quite a bit of confidence to similar performers that it was okay to be kind of dumb. For a long time, the protagonists of myriad genres in Hollywood had to be intelligent, until John Travolta in Pulp Fiction said otherwise. Hemsworth proved supporting characters didn’t have to be whip-smart either.
Will Ferrell as Buddy the Elf in Elf
Maybe Barbie has more in common with Elf than Ken has with Buddy, but it was Will Ferrell’s lead turn that really set a template for movie-goers about how this sort of character can operate. Specifically, I think of the ways in which Gosling interacts with the real world as Ken. He is wholly sincere and buys into all the tropes and signatures of the real world that we take for granted as a public audience. His acknowledgement of the world around him was reminiscent of Buddy’s starry-eyed obsession with all the magic of a disenchanted society.
Donald Glover as Deni Maroon in Guava Island
A crucial element of the Ken portrayal from Gosling is that he is outrageously goofy and nonsensical, while still maintaining some aura of coolness, in spite of his most pathetic moments. He has to be, at least, a little brooding and intriguing for this kind of character to work. While he’s never quite James Dean-level (“I got the bullets!”), he does find a lane with someone who is goofy-cool. In my opinion, no one embodies goofy-cool more than Donald Glover, who brings this exact vibe to the offshoot short film he worked on with Rihanna years back, Guava Island. There have been goofier Glover performances and there have been cooler Glover performances, but the balance struck here was a touchstone for me viewing Ken, even if it wasn’t explicitly for Gosling.
Rachel McAdams as Regina George in Mean Girls
Between all the glitz and glamour of Barbieland, there is Ken, his own beacon of fashion and modernized sensibilities that help lay out a roadmap for culture. When he delivers the Mojo Dojo Casa House or any one of the signature outfits he sports or the vibe of “beach” while trying to catch a gnarly wave, he is outlining a culture that will be embraced in the Ken-Land. In that way, he is sort of a Regina George-esque trendsetter. His arc is like a reverse of Regina’s. At the beginning of Mean Girls, Regina sets the rules for the school’s social hierarchy. Over time, this power is stripped from her. In Barbie, Ken morphs from powerless to completely in control. Fortunately, both characters find the same denouement to their arcs in the form of recognition and acceptance for how to be good people for those who care about them and care what they think about them. McAdams’ rich pseudo-villainy bears so much in common with her Notebook costar’s.
Leonardo DiCaprio as Rick Dalton in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
I don’t really think there’s a whole lot of overlap here, but I wanted to shout out the moment Ken exclaims, “Sublime!” when Barbie pretends to be interested in him. I felt like it was something Rick Dalton would’ve done, too.
Matt Damon as Linus Caldwell in Ocean’s Eleven
To be able to play Ken, Gosling had to shed himself of some ego (if he ever had an obnoxious amount of it). This is something that was not always easy for movie stars to do, but in the twenty-first century, it’s become gradually easier. I think one of the biggest shifts in this move towards a vanity-devoid performance is Matt Damon in the Ocean’s trilogy. Coming off an Oscar win, The Talented Mr. Ripley, Saving Private Ryan, and an entry into his own franchise, Bourne, Matt Damon had all the charisma and clout in the world to be someone who was just as cool as Brad Pitt and George Clooney in Ocean’s. However, the movies don’t work if everyone is just at their same levels of suavity. Damon, being aware of himself enough and talented enough as a performer to downshift his charisma into a sort-of “hapless” mode, was vital for laying out the model of the modern movie star that Gosling would later have to embrace in the misogyny and buffoonery of Ken.
Animal as Himself in The Muppets
The tone of so many movies could never have been rightly achieved without the tonal reinvention of the 1970s that came from the Muppets. Obviously, the Muppets weren’t the sole progenitor of movie culture in the 1970s, but they changed perception of the medium forever in the sense that it was okay to be silly again (credit is also due to Steve Martin). For so much of the 2011 edition of the Muppet story, we see a push-and-pull of that silliness. Animal is forced to deny who he is in favor of a world that eschews his raw, emotional, passion-driven corridor of a rock and roll lifestyle. Only when he embraces his niche does he become who he always ached to be. In Barbie, Ken first tries to force himself into the role of doting boyfriend and then forces himself into the role of machismo-laden fascist. When he denies what others demand of him (or, rather, what he thinks others demand of him), he becomes “Kenough.” It’s something I’m sure Animal would’ve liked to hear, too.
Paul Rudd as Andy Fleckner in Wet Hot American Summer
There is a dewy-eyed lap dog sense of the Ken character in Barbie, but in the second half of the film, he shifts into something of an over-the-top, cartoonish douchebag. Even down to the overwhelming amount of denim, this douchebaggery seems to be traced of a lineage with Andy fuckin’ Fleckner from Wet Hot. Yes, obviously, if someone acted like Andy or Ken in real life, we would dismiss them as a social pariah and an emotionally stunted toddler. But in movies that strike the right tone, characters like these shine as hilarious creations.
Andy Samberg as Conner4Real in Popstar
It’s not easy to play a character who is supposed to be likable, douchey, and a total dip all in one. In addition to Rudd in Wet Hot, I feel that Samberg and Gosling have pulled it off the best in recent years. It’s okay to not be the brightest person in the room when you treat everyone with the love and kindness they deserve. Samberg has shown us that better than most in the archetype with which he’s most comfortable. Vitally, these characters also have an underlying awareness that they’re not very bright, but they always have little flashes where they think they might be (like John C. Reilly’s porn-pontificating Reed Rothchild in Boogie Nights). Gosling is able to strike exactly those notes, too.
Jamie Dornan as Edgar Paget in Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar
Just two years before Barbie, there was another lovestruck, pastel-wearing dream boat traipsing around a manufactured play land. Surely, Barbie was too far along in the production process to have taken much influence from something as contrastingly low stakes as Barb and Star was. However, it’s hard not to read Dornan’s villain character and Gosling’s sometimes-villain character as indicative of some sort of delirious trend that is brewing in the 2020s. Worth keeping an eye on these two to see what performances might be subsequently influenced by them.
Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
For years, Gosling has proselytized Gene Wilder as the movie star he wanted to model his own career after. As such, it’s hard to imagine any single actor having more influence over the Ken performance — save for Gosling himself. Even just the moment when Gosling slides off the car in Barbie’s return to “Ken-Land” with misplaced confidence and a slight clumsiness seems to hearken back to the physical comedy imbued into the Willy Wonka character by Wilder from the first minute he somersaulted into our chocolate-craving hearts (see also: Ray Bolger as The Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz). Couple that physicality with the wry nature of a character who doesn’t know as much as he thinks he can lord over others, and you have a clear cut template for the kind of movie star Gosling strove to be in 2023’s biggest film.
Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy in On the Waterfront
At no point in Barbie are we ever supposed to take Ken seriously, but we are supposed to believe that Ken takes Ken seriously. He absolutely thinks of himself as a Brando type figure in his own mind. Maybe, in real life, Gosling is just as cool and commanding as Brando was, but Ken is absolutely not. Instead, he is representative of the kinds of men who see themselves as being just like Brando in On the Waterfront, even if the very nature of making such a statement prevents them from seeing the emotional throughline of the film that makes this archetype the last thing you’d want to be. Still, the superficial, narrow-minded Ken thinks it’s the pinnacle of masculine achievement. And he’d like to be the same.
It’s sometimes hard to qualify modern performances with influential touchstones of movies in the past, especially when those movies had to create a visual language without heeding any influences of their own. Like, Gosling was influenced by people like Brando and Wilder. And maybe they were influenced by people like Cagney and Chaplin. But eventually, the influence stops because we arrive — backwards — at the origin of film. Does that make Gosling inherently a weaker performer than those of the 1910s and 1920s because they became stars without any influences to go off of? Is it not more impressive to build movies and stories when you have no idea how, rather than a century of a medium to look to? I’m not sure. Does it actually matter that Gerwig has a Letterboxd list of films that inspired Barbie and Sergei Eisenstein and Alfred Hitchcock never would have? Perhaps this is the destiny of all art: to become products of itself. To be honed and tuned for decades until one person comes along and renders it perfect. That’s Ryan Gosling as Ken.
