Have you seen the two summer blockbuster movies, “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer,” which collectively have become known as Barbenheimer?
The films couldn’t be more different but thanks to some clever marketing, audiences are filling cinemas to see them both. While “Barbie” is “Toy Story” on steroids, raking in over a billion dollars at the box office, “Oppenheimer” is a complex biopic about the father of the atom bomb.
While I thought they were both great, I’ll admit it was a lot more fun visiting Barbieland than Los Alamos. In fact, a couple of hours into the latter, my mind started to wander. What if Barbenheimer wasn’t just a meme. What if it became a real movie?
Scene: A world where everything is pink. The buildings are pink. The roads are pink. Even the cars are pink. Barbie floats down from a pink cloud, gently landing on her tip toes.
Barbie (squealing with delight): “Oh, a new place to play — how fun!”
She begins bouncing along the street.
“Ouch! Something’s happened to my foot. Oh no!”
Looking down to her toes she notices a layer of plastic is peeling off. It slowly travels up her leg.
“I didn’t order a dermabrasion treatment from the Barbie Spa Day Toy Playset. What’s happening?” she asks.
“Down, down,” a dark voice calls from the distance. At first it sounds like an Irishman trying out an American accent, but within seconds you forget thinking he was Irish at all. “Over here.”
“Just a moment!” she responds, pulling a yellow rubber boot over her left foot and a tiny red scandal onto her right. As all true followers know, the first rule of Barbie ownership is you’ll never find a complete pair of matching shoes when you want them.
Spotting a glint of light coming from a nearby doorway, she rushes inside.
“Oh, it’s only you,” she says relieved.
She’s confronted by her off-and-on boyfriend Ken, who is dressed in a smartly dapper but dated suit and tie with a tiny plastic fedora on his head. His usually neat hair is wild, odd make-up covers his face.
“Excuse me, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he says stiffly, reaching out his hand. “I’m Weird Bobbie, but you call me Dr. Oppenheimer.”
Barbie looks confused. “Are you sure you’re not Atomic Ken? You look just like him.”
“We haven’t got much time,” he urges, looking at her leg as the plastic continues to peel off. “We’ve had a couple of practice runs but it’s nearly time for the big one. You have to take cover. We must get as far from here as we can.”
“We can take my rocket, it’s parked just over there, behind that old shed with the pink and yellow radiation sticker on it,” says Barbie.
Oppenheimer appears impressed.
“You have your own rocket? Are you a scientist like me?” he asks.
“Oh, yes,” Barbie says. “A scientist, a vet, a teacher, you name it. We women can do anything. In fact, I can have any career I want as long as it fits in a cardboard box with a cellophane window.”
The two chat as Barbie prepares the rocket for launching, which luckily only involves taking it out of its box. They soon discover they have one very important thing in common: bringing audiences back to the movies after COVID.
Going behind a fuchsia bush to preserve her modesty while changing into a white jumpsuit, Barbie explains she was on her way to the human world to discover who she is and what she wants to do with her life. Meanwhile, Oppenheimer tries to pull a space helmet on over his fedora as he tells her all he wants to do is save the world by inventing a way to blow it up.
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The pair are soon ready for takeoff. Unfortunately, this takes a little longer than anticipated because Barbie forgot to cut the plastic ties that tether the rocket and Oppenheimer insists on counting down in Sanskrit, Dutch and Greek.
Finally, they’re off. Astronaut Barbie sits side saddle on the front of the rocket while Oppenheimer floats behind, hanging onto a fin.
“I can see my house from here!” exclaims the doctor.
“Is it a dream house like mine?” asks Barbie, carefully changing her shoes.
“More of a nightmare,” Oppenheimer says with a laugh. “We had to build an entire town in the New Mexican desert when I started to build the bomb. It’s really boring. It doesn’t have a spiral slide from the roof down to the ground like yours. It looks just like all the other houses.”
“That’s awful!” Barbie explains. “How can you tell it’s yours?”
“I can see the laundry. Despite being constantly reminded, my wife never remembers to bring in the wash.”
Barbie decides it’s time to land the rocket. She calculates they’ve been flying for at least three minutes which can only mean one thing, it’s time for her to become a marine biologist. But before she can, she feels a terrifying shaking.
“It’s about to blow, watch out!” Oppenheimer calls from behind her.
Just ahead of them a huge cloud shaped like a mushroom is forming. It rises into the sky, ballooning out until the rocket is engulfed in a white fog. An eerie silence is followed by a loud “hurray!” as the cloud bursts, releasing a mass of golden confetti.
Barbie laughs, but as she turns round, she makes a terrifying discovery. Oppenheimer is no longer there. Looking down, she breathes a sign of relief as she sees he has made a soft landing in his wife’s towels.
“Thanks for the ride, Barbie,” Oppenheimer calls. “We’re not only safe, but with this bomb I’ve guaranteed there will never be another war!”
“That’s so great,” breathes Barbie, pulling on a pink fur jacket with matching hat. “See you for the sequel!”
Hilary Decent is a freelance journalist who moved to Naperville from England in 2007.