'Bratz: Rock Angelz' (2005) Film Review

(March 2022)

---

A review of Bratz: Rock Angelz, for STUDIO magazine.

Redemption for Bratz: Rock Angelz

How Dolls with a Passion for Fashion Defined a Generation.

Bratz: Rock Angelz is a colourful, neo-liberally feminist, coming-of-age drama.

The second instalment of the animated Bratz film series released in 2005, the film and the doll franchise has reclaimed its rightful place as the frontier of the alt-girls fantasy, in the year of our Lord, 2022.

A celebration of racial and class inclusivity and the art of girl’s enjoyment for simply enjoyment, Rock Angelz deserves its appraisal as one of the big sister films to girls growing up during and post the Y2K era.

Its sensational stylisation and sublime soundtrack bore an era of spunky, expressive and (third wave) feminist young women. The animation is bright, eye catching, an early 3D. It was new and fresh, much like the objective of the Bratz cultural politics.

The narrative doesn’t mock ‘girly’ pastimes; horoscopes, shopping, getting smoothies. Historically, shopping was a huge disrespect to the patriarchy, a small form of women’s empowerment during the 1900s, why would the respectful middleclass women want to explore the dirty urban environment? The narrative respects history but pushes for the uber-feminine in a ‘girl power’ sort of way.

The narrative explores first crushes, friendship troubles, new cultures and of course, self-expression. Much like any other coming-of-age film.

Its animation, though, forces it to be classed as a child’s film, which yes technically it is, but it questions why aren’t animated films treated with the same compassion and respect that live-action films are? This text can be included in a larger argument for the retribution of animation.

The return of neo-punk in the 2000s and angsty, individualist artists like Avril Lavigne Paramore, and Gwen Stefani are the popular fashion and musical influences.

It embraces the English punk scene and is accidentally deliciously anti-imperialistic. Its representations of the English noblemen as crass, elitist, and image-absorbed are flattering reflections of the English upper crust, considering the strong anti-monarchic politics that have permeated British culture for eons.

The film is pretty in punk for a reason.

By way of its antagonist Burdine Maxwell, editor-in-chief of Your Thing magazine, the rival print Bratz goes up against, at times the narrative villainizes the hyper-feminine.

But perhaps in a naïve manner tries, truly innocently, to uplift non-stereotypically feminine forms of style, hobbies, and interests.

There is a subtle commentary on the popularity of the ‘women’s magazine’ of the 2000s, how it pushes for a small aspect of femininity, one that only cares for the superficial notions of life for women- pink, pretty and perfect.

Bratz had taken on a new meaning. A rebellion against the uptight expectations of women during the turn of the millennium. This still rings true for young women of today, so it’s clear to see how Bratz kept its relevance.

This text deserves so much praise. It is enjoyment for enjoyments sake. It is a blatant nostalgia trip, a comfort film and, at times, the necessary superficial pleasure and gratification a young woman may need, whilst navigating the harsh reality of 2022.