At this time in writing this review, most people in my social life are involuntarily single. This sample bias is why I have unscientifically declared a singles epidemic. Well, okay – I’m sure that there are psychological and economic truths behind the increase in adults who are unmarried and childless, but I’d like to ride this claim on vibes. My friends are relatively reasonable people. There’s nothing egregiously wrong with them, nor do I think that there’s anything egregiously wrong with the people they’re meeting. I just think that sometimes we play in the wrong leagues, and the game isn’t getting easier when our knees start to crack and life hardens the shell of practicality over the idealisms of love.
Celine Song’s Materialists addresses the rules of modern dating in the way a venture capitalist reviews the stock market. Eligible bachelors and bachelorettes can be dissected by biological and financial stats (cue the “Man In Finance” jingle in your head when you hear characters throw out the minimum thresholds for height and salary in their perfect partners). Luckily, Lucy (Dakota Johnson), a matchmaker in New York City, knows the game very well. Employed through the Adore Matchmaking services, Lucy is both professional liaison and personal confidante. She knows how to find the “unicorns” (people with little to no flaw in their resume), can say the right thing to wailing brides on the day of the wedding, and talk down the still-single people who become more cynical the longer they are on the market.
While the film isn’t classically dystopian, the ways in which we talk about potential life partners can feel cold. Lucy’s co-workers look a lot like Lucy: conventionally attractive, polite but firmly means-business, with a somewhat fragmented view on what a successful relationship is. The company caters to people of wealthier means; whether it was the original mission to serve upscale clientele or if the aforementioned “successes” require people of a certain income, placing a premium on love can’t be ignored. When Lucy meets Harry (Pedro Pascal), who works in private equity but seems to act all but the mayor of the city, she immediately shares her self-infliction of how she doesn’t really belong in his world. In the same scene where they first chat, the conversation is intercepted by Lucy’s old flame John (Chris Evans), who all but knows who Lucy is when the cocktail dresses and the religion of marketable love return back to the closet.
The world is different, and it speaks in money. Lucy’s directness in her attraction towards money might feel like gold-digger misandry, but for people who have lived through their 20s, financial situations can be enormously life-affecting. Lucy says the quiet part out loud to a generation who has considered the cost-benefits of college or why subscriptions and produce have a higher tier if they shell out more money. I’m willing to bet that there are a lot of people who see this film and have either said this themselves or know someone who has. It is a cold perspective, but dating for love doesn’t exist in a vacuum anymore. Materialists showcases matchmaking in this caliber as a classist extreme, but a lot of times, it’s not just about chemistry but the visible probability of a stable future with someone. Isn’t being realistic okay?
Even as a talent with a self-assured vision, Song’s higher-stock investments are in the cast, A-list stars of different illuminations. Johnson, Evans, and Pascal have the sort of Hollywood draw power for these kinds of movies that succeed in meeting genre criteria but weaker in other areas. And to be honest, there is a lot about the film that feels like it should be bad, including that sunken fear of Song’s sophomore slump following Past Lives. But her determination in baring souls and her re-collaborations with cinematographer Shabier Kirchner and editor Keith Fraase makes Materialists a film that works above its story. If it were done as a Netflix production with an equally famous cast, I’m not sure if they could make the lighting at a loading dock cast forlorn and romantic shadows on two ex-lovers. I’m not sure if I would have caught costume designer Katina Danabassis’s intention in Lucy’s jewelry; in classier events, Lucy wears a silver necklace that delicately hovers on her clavicles while in private moments, her necklaces changes to a chain resting comfortably against her chest. I’m not sure if many directors would have placed faith in their characters, including a memorable performance by supporting actress Zoe Winters, who plays Sophie, a client struggling to find a partner for months.
Rom-coms are predictable, and Materialists, in that way, is predictable. But instead of feeling like I need to be angry or sad with the characters, watching Materialists feels like warmed butter in every pleasurable sense. The dialogue feels fresh, the 35 mm is working its good magic, and I don’t feel entirely disconnected from this environment that I do in a lot of rom-coms. But similar to Past Lives, Materialists is a romance film with magic and authenticity living under the same roof. It doesn’t feel like it has to fight off expectations or expect Johnson’s inflection to change in emotional scenes (and I don’t think Johnson’s voice will ever leave her earthly being without a fight, but in this scenario, I’m okay with it). It may not be a cure for the singles epidemic, but as the way people are, Materialists just is – right in place where Song wants to be.
Materialists
2025
dir. Celine Song
109 min.
Opens Friday, 7/13 @ Coolidge Corner Theatre, Somerville Theatre, Kendall Square Cinema, Apple Cinemas Cambridge, Alamo Drafthouse Boston Seaport, and all local AMCs
