Feminist enlightenment follows, but while Barbie is discovering herself, Ken learns that real society is male-dominated and uses the lesson to turn Barbieland into the Kendom—a bro paradise of brewskis and weight lifting. In his ideal state, “Everything exists to expand and elevate the presence of men.” Spot the joke? I don’t. “Barbie” contains more swipes at “the patriarchy” than a year’s worth of Ms. magazine.

Though Mr. Ferrell, who brings along his sunny manchild lunacy, is amusing in his small role, he seems to be visiting from a more lighthearted film, such as “The Lego Movie.” Directed by Greta Gerwig, who wrote the script with her romantic partner, Noah Baumbach, “Barbie” is a template for how not to write a crowd-pleasing Hollywood feature. Ms. Gerwig and Mr. Baumbach are accomplished indie filmmakers (she made “Lady Bird,” he “The Squid and the Whale”; both are wonderful) who make poor choices to flesh out these characters. Try to imagine “The Super Mario Bros. Movie” as written by someone who not only hated Mario and Luigi but blamed them for highway fatalities, climate change and gorilla abuse while tossing in some Proust references. Nor do Ms. Gerwig and Mr. Baumbach have the sensibilities of kids. They pepper the film with film-nerd allusions—“2001: A Space Odyssey,” “Being There,” “The Shining,” “The Matrix”—that are likely to sail over the heads of those born this century.

As bubbly as the film appears, its script is like a grumpier-than-average women’s studies seminar.

[I don’t mind adult-targeted humor in kids’ movies, as long as the movie itself remains entertaining. Pixar has done that well in the past, and Dreamworks occasionally as well. But if the rest of the film is designed to sail over the heads of children, or worse yet, operate as a lecture, fuhgeddaboudit. — Ed]