The algorithms have decided I should be pelted with Barbie promotional trailers; pink, pink everywhere and not a drop of respite.

My email inbox is heaving with Barbie-themed press releases: the Barbie pay gap, Barbie-pink sparkling home makeovers, a Barbie hairbrush that demonstrates "hair can unlock imagination". Can it? How?

I'm entirely hyped-out. This overwhelming Barbie marketing is almost enough to put you off the movie. Almost, but not quite.

There are pros and cons, certainly to the much-awaited Barbenheimer movie weekend.

Even if you've been under a rock you can't have possibly failed to have seen the interviews, adverts and trailers for both Barbie and Oppenheimer, which were released simultaneously on Friday.

As a dedicated cinema-goer I've experienced the theatres immediately post-lockdown and in the deeply troubled time since.

While obvious terrible for the industry, it was quite nice - on an extremely selfish level - to have quieter screenings without selfish dolts ruining everything with their endless phone scrolling and their brain dead nattering. But, personal peeves aside, how delightful it was to go to the cinema over the weekend and be unable to move without ricocheting into other people.

Pros: it was crowded, chaotic and finally felt like a proper night out again. Cons: so many folk on their phones. In one screening a parent occupied her bored child by giving her an iPad to watch cartoons on - with no headphones.

If there's one thing that saps the joy from a movie it's trying to focus on the dialogue while being distracted by Bluey.

But if there's another thing that saps the joy from a movie it's the endless, endless analysis pieces before the piece has even aired.

Can Barbie be a feminist icon? Is Barbie responsible for eating disorders? Is Barbie nothing but a commercial boon for Mattel? What does it all mean? Did we ask already if Barbie is a feminist icon?

It's a tough one, sure. Barbie, with her perky boobs, impossible waist and ingratiating smile - there's no way she can be an appropriate role model for young girls.

That question ripples through the centre of Greta Gerwig’s movie: can an aspirational image of hyper-perfect femininity ever be an innocent focus for girlhood play or will Barbie always only represent toxic gender norms?

It's rippled through Barbie's history too, as Mattel has tried to make the doll more culturally relevant and diverse. And, more importantly, boost sales. "When a girl plays with Barbie she imagines everything she can become," a 2015 Mattel ad claimed. Tall? Busty? Blonde? Or an astronaut, US President or doctor?

Arguably the film is already a feminist success. In its opening weekend the movie made $377 million - the biggest ever debut for a film directed by a woman.

If I was going to fret about anything in the movie it would be the fact that Allan - a now-discontinued doll introduced to be Ken's buddy - as the only man in the movie who doesn't conform to stereotypical masculinity teams up with the women.

The film examines how the patriarchy also harms men but it glosses over the fact that poor old Allan sides with the Barbies because there is no space for him to be authentic with the Kens. As in the movie, as in life, there's no chiding of men who aren't inclusive and diverse - the women will do it. There are some glorious arguments on social media about Barbie. Besides men worried that the film means Hollywood wants them to be gay or that the feminist agenda will kill us all, the disputes boil down to a fight over the questions of can something glossy also be weighty? Can something pink also deal with important themes?

Can we, is my question, just watch the movie and have a nice time without fretting about what it all means?

If Barbie the doll is an icon of anything, it's the culture wars. Hats off to those who enjoy the intellectual scrapping over analysis of what the doll - and the movie - represent. There's no shame, though, in just enjoying the experience.

Maybe that's the most feminist approach to it.