果冻影院

A mass of hot pink emerges violently amid the green foliage, palm trees and shrubbery. Located in Malibu, the oceanfront Barbie DreamHouse created by Airbnb is the latest in a series of global marketing stunts to promote Greta Gerwig鈥檚 new film Barbie, the first live-action adventure movie about the iconic Mattel doll.

A closer aerial shot of the video 鈥� uploaded to Twitter by photojournalist John Schreiber 鈥� reveals a curved slide, with a small square pool at the bottom. On the pink and white wall behind the water slide, the Barbie logo has been graffitied over with Ken鈥檚 name.

The image then cuts to an infinity pool where a set of three giant custom pool floats spells 鈥淜EN鈥�. The bird鈥檚-eye view allows us to spy the deep shadows that each letter, swaying gently in the breeze, casts onto the bottom of the pool.

This article is part of Quarter Life, a series about issues affecting those of us in our twenties and thirties. From the challenges of beginning a career and taking care of our mental health, to the excitement of starting a family, adopting a pet or just making friends as an adult. The articles in this series explore the questions and bring answers as we navigate this turbulent period of life.

Aerial footage shows the pink palace in stark contrast to the neighbouring white mansions. The video ends with two crash zooms, a cinematic technique typical in horror films. The camera zooms in rapidly before quickly zooming out and resuming its god-like surveillance of a house seemingly devoid of human life.

Airbnb鈥檚 life-size DreamHouse, as captured in the video, has a very different feel to trailers for the upcoming Barbie movie. Its unsettling aesthetic is a sharp counterpoint to the thoughtfully curated architectural wonderland that production designer Sarah Greenwood and set decorator Katie Spencer painstakingly created for the film.

My immediate reaction upon watching the footage was: 鈥淲hat has he done with the body? Where has Ken buried Barbie?鈥�

The ominous K, E, N, letters floating aimlessly in the deserted pool 鈥� Barbie鈥檚 silencing through the desecration of her signature, a key marker of her identity 鈥� and the terrace furniture enveloped in pallet wrap do not bode well for Barbie.

Airbnb鈥檚 official press release confirms that Ken has taken over Barbie鈥檚 house, going as far as letting guests check in for free while she is 鈥渁way鈥�. The reader is not privy to Barbie鈥檚 opinion or consent on this matter.

Airbnb classifies Ken鈥檚 starring role in this endeavour as a 鈥渢wist鈥�, because 鈥淏arbie is everything, and he鈥檚 always been 鈥楯ust Ken鈥� 鈥� until now!鈥� A fitting tagline for a revenge horror film.

The grim wording of the press release appears unintentional. Indeed, Airbnb is making a charity donation along with the opening of the DreamHouse 鈥渢o honour girls鈥� empowerment鈥�. Why, then, do some of us react to that pink haven with a frisson of anxiety?

Airbnb鈥檚 topsy-turvy iteration of the DreamHouse evokes uncanny emotions. The uncanny 鈥� a state of fear and unease 鈥� has been defined in a variety of different, albeit overlapping, ways.

German psychiatrist Ernst Jentsch (1867-1919), thought the feeling arises from the seeming animation of the inanimate or, conversely, the apparent lifelessness of a living being.

Psychologist Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) saw the uncanny in the resurgence of repressed childhood fantasies and primitive beliefs 鈥� such as animism, the attribution of a living soul to inanimate things 鈥� which challenge adult worldviews.

Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori coined 鈥渦ncanny valley鈥� in 1970 to denote the point at which human-like automata (such as robots but also CGI characters) become too lifelike. Uncanny feelings are triggered by their failure to act in a recognisably human manner, despite their appearance.

Through its myriad revisions over the years, the concept鈥檚 core idea has remained unchanged: the defamiliarisation of the familiar generates ambiguity and temporary disorientation, eliciting a sense of creepiness, dread or horror.

In this sense, Barbie鈥檚 Malibu beach house (in both Airbnb鈥檚 and Gerwig鈥檚 versions) evokes the uncanny. However, the film relishes its artificiality and uses the uncanny playfully. 鈥淗er environment isn鈥檛 always three-dimensional, and the scale of everything is a bit off. Barbie is a little too big for her house,鈥� Gerwig told Vogue.

Set decorator Katie Spencer told Architectural Digest that she and production designer Sarah Greenwood 鈥渁djusted [the] rooms鈥� quirky proportions to 23% smaller than human size鈥�. It reminded me of American writer Shirley Jackson鈥檚 Hill House, which she described as 鈥渃hillingly wrong in all dimensions鈥�.

The candy-coloured mansion is an extension of Barbie and vice-versa, central to her identity. Odd proportions, decals paired with three-dimensional objects and the vivification of dolls paint a portrait, both seductive and unsettling, of Barbie Land. Despite its surrealism, Barbie Land is coated in a fairytale veneer that prevents it from becoming terrifying.

On the other hand, Airbnb鈥檚 garish dwelling annexes more troublesome elements of the uncanny. It blurs the lines between doll and human along with the boundaries between the real world of California and the fictional realm of the magical dollhouse.

Barbie鈥檚 bright pink plastic fantasy is a disquieting inversion of the gothic Addams Family mansion, rising darkly above the white suburban picket fences. The real-life DreamHouse discloses our borderline vampiric appetite for consuming a piece of someone else鈥檚 life 鈥� even a doll鈥檚. As children鈥檚 literature scholar Anna Panszczyk has observed, 鈥渨e can never fully occupy the space of our dolls鈥� 鈥� but that hasn鈥檛 stopped us from trying.

This article originally appeared in听on 6 July 2023.听

尝颈苍办蝉:听

• Original article in听
• Dr Joana Jacob Ramalho's
• 果冻影院听School of European Languages, Culture and Society
• 果冻影院 Faculty of Arts & Humanities

Image:

• Credit: