In the wake of 2023’s breakout hit Barbie, Mattel’s grip on the largely female populus cannot be understated. The Barbie craze existed long before Margot Robbie’s journey to Barbieland, as evidenced by the voracious obsession with the iconic figure as a pop culture phenomenon. Enter: Barbie Boomer, an intriguing documentary that dissects Sylvie Longpré and her longtime fixation on these dolls. Filmmaker Marc Joly-Corcoran has some particularly insightful takeaways in observing Longpré, punctuating her adoration with biting analysis from a cynical scholar. A must-see for even a casual collector, Barbie Boomer provides a peak behind the curtain—and a critique on taking any of this far too seriously.
Known as “Quebec’s Barbie” for over two decades, Sylvie Longpré takes great pride in her collection. But as she grows older, she begins to contemplate her legacy. Some people leave behind their children to carry on after they pass; Sylvie instead sees her dolls as her legacy. Donating them to the prestigious Musee de la Civilization will ensure each Barbie gets preserved to endure the test of time. We get to see this entire process from start to finish, from Sylvie’s Zoom chats with the curator, to the actual selection of which dolls will make the cut. At one point, Sylvie’s entire collection gets evaluated—the actual worth may be rather surprising, as personally I had expected it to be much higher.
While this entire journey is an interesting one in general, Sylvie herself remains of utmost interest. She seems to have latched onto some of the ideals that Barbie has presented. She dresses in pinks, drives flashy cars, and frequently “dolls herself up,” so to speak. As for the Barbies she obtains, she meticulously restores them, down to “manicures” on their tiny toenails. Of particular note here: Marc Joly-Corcoran avoids casting judgement upon Sylvie for any of her actions. He simply observes her day to day, and follows her around. Sylvie’s complicated feelings towards relinquishing her collection are made more meaningful by the addition of vintage photographs and television interviews, emphasizing just how long the little plastic inventions have been by her side.
Though not an explicit statement, Sylvie’s loneliness reflects back onto the viewer. In the Barbies, she finds solace and companionship that she can buy. These dolls are there with her through every life event, waiting for her to pick them up again. She buys them adorable outfits, perhaps to supplement something missing from her own existence. Still, as a collector myself, there is a comfort in these seemingly useless items that brings great joy. The scholar, Jacqueline, has much to say about this. She insists that the rise of Barbie has simply become a plastification of humanity, with children seen as future buyers. Sylvie appears to be living a life of excess, juxtaposed with an analysis of how Barbie is just forcing people to define themselves by what they buy.
Should Barbies belong in a museum? Do they have enough cultural significance to matter hundreds of years from now? Obviously, there are arguments to be made in either direction. I would prefer to side with Sylvie and the museum curators over the cynicism of Jacqueline. Sure, we are living in a material culture, but that doesn’t mean it’s all bad. Only minutes after I finished screening the film, Mattel announced a new Barbie animated movie coming to theaters. That seems proof enough—far into the future, we will still be talking about the legacy of Barbie.
Barbie Boomer debuted at 2025’s Fantasia Film Festival.
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