Greta Gerwig goes from Little Women to even littler women in Barbie, the most hyped 43rd film in a franchise ever seen.

Essentially a live-action Toy Story, it sees the eponymous Mattel toy (Margot Robbie) leave the matriarchal utopia of Barbieland for the patriarchal corporatocracy of reality. Like Neo in The Matrix or Emmet in The Lego Movie, Barbie discovers she has been fed lies about the real world, where Mattel has done about as much for feminism in 64 years as Liz Truss managed in 44 days.

But where the Lego movies built multiple layers of irony, Barbie is disappointingly one-note, basically repeating the same joke for two hours. Fortunately that joke is funny and intelligent in its deconstruction of absurd female ideals, but it’s also all in the trailer. Those gags are padded out by lessons and points stated so explicitly that there is no room to explore its themes or subvert our expectations.

Instead the Film is weird in the wrong places, namely the role of Mattel and Warner Bros. in postmodern proceedings. A brand choosing to advertise via two hours of public self-flagellation is bizarre, even depicting its own offices as a corporate dystopia run by idiotic suits. Will Ferrell is annoying as the CEO, effectively reprising his role from The Lego Movie in a particularly unimaginative piece of casting.

Stranger still is the exclusive referencing of Warner Bros. properties, the company forcing itself into the movie as it did Space Jam: A New Legacy and The Matrix Resurrections. And while Stanley Kubrick films will always be natural reference points, are we really meant to believe indie darling Greta Gerwig voluntarily put the Snyder Cut in the script? If we do need Warner Bros. IP-based toy adverts let’s see one about the Kubrick’s Cube.

Depressing as it is to see Gerwig hamstrung by corporate mandate, her witty take on Barbie is a Dreamhouse of great performances. Robbie not only looks like the improbable doll but humanises her, while Ryan Gosling is a bleach blonde highlight as perpetually emasculated Ken. Scene-stealing turns from Kate McKinnon, America Ferrera and Michael Cera will also leave you tickled pink, alongside brief appearances from Emerald Fennell and Rob Brydon.

Barbie has its moments, but they come in a long, schmaltzy package, its satire as transparent as Barbie’s mirror accessory. It is almost a victim of its own aggressive marketing campaign, setting the film up for failure with its bombardment of plastic messaging and unrealistic expectations. And what could be more Barbie than that?