There are few better examples of damning with faint praise than to note that Barbie, the new comedy directed by Greta Gerwig, is better than it has any right to be. It’s true, though. In a cinematic age where it’s increasingly difficult for any project to earn even fleeting enthusiasm from Hollywood power brokers unless it starts with strong brand awareness, a movie based on a doll that’s been a semi-problematic rite of passage for little girls for more than six decades is properly slotted in the Part of the Problem column. Based on what’s on screen, Gerwig knows this. With ingenuity, she turns it to her advantage.

Barbie proceeds with knowing appreciation of its own artificiality. The film is primarily set in Barbieland, a utopia of plastic-sheened dream houses and vibrantly accomplished women. All the various Barbies coexist, their places of professional esteem in notable contrast with the lackadaisical existences of the equally wide range of Kens, who have no real reason for being beyond seeking a Barbie’s attention. When the Barbie dubbed Stereotypical Barbie (Margot Robbie), identified as the forerunner of all others in an opening sequence that spoofs 2001: A Space Odyssey, comes down with an ailment diagnosed as stemming from troubled play in the real world, she is cast into an existential crisis. The solution is to infiltrate the real world and address the issue, which cascades into other problems, including a catastrophic disruption of the social order of Barbieland.

As if anticipating feminist rejections of Barbie as a subject worth of attention, Gerwig commits wholeheartedly to an expression of anti-chauvinistic ideals. Owing to the panoply of pastimes Barbie dolls have engaged in throughout the years, essentially her deliberate positioning a role model, Stereotypical Barbie is certain the world outside Barbieland has been eradicates of all sexism. The truth of the matter is jarring to her and toxically influential on the Kens, whose collective first taste of patriarchy is like a firehose blast of opiates. Gerwig’s gags (the screenplay is co-credited to her partner, Noah Baumbach) are bright and bruising at once. As a director, she bolstered the material further, using every technique of visual framing and editing to fortify the humor.

Gerwig also continues her streak as a splendid collaborator with her actors. As the main Ken, Ryan Gosling is a comic dynamo, and there are dandy turns up and down the cast, led by Kate McKinnon, America Ferrera, Simu Li, Michael Cera, and Issa Rae. Robbie is on a whole other level, though, bringing real depth and pathos to her character’s journey. She could have easily glided by on movie star charm, but she instead digs to get at the genuine emotion in Gerwig’s story. The revelations this Barbie comes upon are moving. When she triumphs, it’s a thrill.

So, is Barbie better than it has any right to be? Sure. But stripped of diminishing context, it’s still smart, thematically satisfying, and extremely funny. On any scale, Barbie is a beauty.