‘Materialists’ is a smart and funny all-star love triangle with its own commitment issues
My favorite actress is Dakota Johnson, a captivating enigma who revolutionized the concept of femme fatale. Born into a lineage of stardom, she skillfully navigates interviews, particularly those who overstep boundaries regarding her work in the “Fifty Shades” series, a trilogy of BDSM films. With a playful wit, she entices interviewers to stumble, leaving them tongue-tied. On-screen, she excels at portraying characters who privately amused by relationships, showing her charm through subtle shrugs and nonchalant gestures.
Johnson fits the role perfectly in “Materialists,” Celine Song’s sequel to her Oscar-nominated film “Past Lives.” In this movie, Johnson portrays an individual who seems to embody the concept of removing emotion from relationships. Her character, Lucy, is a Manhattan matchmaker and upon encountering an attractive stranger on the street, she hands him a card introducing herself as a professional matchmaker. With a single glance, she can determine someone’s height and in a moment’s notice, make a ruthless assessment of their romantic prospects. When informed that a friend-of-a-friend is involved with a nude webcam model, Lucy nonchalantly remarks: “He’s a 5-foot-7 unpublished novelist struggling with depression – he could have done better.
Lucy often describes her job as similar to that of a funeral director or insurance salesperson. She simplifies people into basic data points such as height, weight, education level, family background, and financial status. Remarkably candid about herself, she humorously states, “I’m actually in the hole when it comes to a dowry.” She makes no secret of her disinterest in marriage unless the partner is exceptionally wealthy. However, Lucy also plays the role of a shrewd matchmaker, seamlessly transitioning from sentimental promises of lifelong commitment to briskly reminding a bride that the arrangement is strictly business.
We’re smitten by this charming minx. Two admirers, one from the high society and the other from humble beginnings, are captivated: Harry (Pedro Pascal), a wealthy private equity figure, and John (Chris Evans), a struggling actor turned cater-waiter, who Lucy previously broke up with due to his financial struggles. The way Song portrays their breakup is enlightening: Lucy’s disdain for John’s poverty leads her to despise herself. On the other hand, when Harry invites Lucy up to his place for a drink, she kisses him while keeping her eyes open to assess his $12-million apartment.
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In their latest production, filmmaker-actress duo Celine Song and Dakota Johnson delve into modern perspectives on love and relationships – a continuation of Song’s work following “Past Lives.
Lucy appears to face a decision between two men or none at all. Once again, Song employs a love triangle narrative to delve into her theories on self-realization. Her groundbreaking work, “Past Lives,” which has autobiographical elements, posed a question about choosing between her former South Korean sweetheart and her less successful American spouse – essentially, whether to continue pursuing youthful aspirations or embrace the adult world. While I appreciated parts of the movie, I found it displeasing that she portrayed the husband as a loser to make the heroine seem selfless. Instead, let her be self-centered; it makes for a more intriguing story.
In this scenario, Lucy is grappling with comfort versus hardship. To add insult to injury, Song has given Evans the most atrocious haircut and unkempt look of his professional career. If you look at it from a slightly different perspective, “Materialists” could be seen as the same movie as “Past Lives,” but more daring and humorous. Essentially, Song is questioning whether a sensible woman can rationalize being tied to a financially struggling artist.
In the movie, Song doesn’t just casually incorporate money into the storyline; rather, she skillfully weaves it into the plot in such a convincing manner that it becomes both the decoration and the finishing touch. The script allows Lucy to utter and engage in actions typically reserved for the rom-com antagonist – the superficial snob who usually loses to a more endearing heroine, remarking to Harry that she admires his ability to effortlessly pick up the check. (I was taken aback when I saw her exit a bar, rudely instructing him to settle the bill.) Almost every line in the film’s side-splittingly funny opening hour is reminiscent of Jane Austen reincarnated as a shock jock, until Song runs out of new material and starts repeating herself.
According to materialists, love should be straightforward. They imagine an ideal couple as two ancient cave dwellers who seal their promise with a bouquet of daisies. Thousands of years later, you’ll find dried daisies on Lucy’s dresser, accompanied by more intricate flowers and fragrances that symbolize the complexity modern courtship has reached. Those primitive lovers could hardly fathom the idea of needing a guide to navigate every aspect of their relationship. Are they cavemen?
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This summer appears robust, offering a mix of major blockbusters from Hollywood, intelligent independent films, and a decent portion of entertaining yet mindless movies – all essential for a well-rounded summer movie experience.
Lucy’s modern-day clients often have shallow and demanding needs, making her job challenging yet amusing. New York City, filled with Wall Street bros, provides an ideal backdrop for portraying these characters who evaluate potential dates using spreadsheets. It’s no surprise that Lucy eventually becomes overwhelmed and delivers a harsh speech directly to the camera. The cinematographer Shabier Kirchner skillfully captures both quiet moments and dynamic scenes. Even Lucy’s regular client, Sophie (played by Zoe Winters), isn’t completely blameless. Upon discovering her last match doesn’t find her attractive, she reacts negatively, commenting, “He’s balding!
Lucy attempts to highlight the compatibility of her clients, recommending a tall, 5-foot-11 bachelor to Sophie while omitting her personal opinion that he’s dull and uninteresting. She insists that opposites don’t attract, but Harry disagrees, suggesting she may be focusing on irrelevant factors. While it’s true they have differences, such as wealth, they are both persistent individuals – one man charms Lucy by acknowledging her hidden potential. The endearing way Pascal smiles at Lucy as he kisses her hand captivates her. To balance this, there’s a scene where Lucy and John stand incredibly close without physically touching, their mutual attraction creating an intense, almost suffocating tension.
A pal recently passed me an ancient book containing the earliest newspaper advice columns from the 1690s. One reader inquired, “Is it true that most marriages during this era are primarily motivated by financial gain?” The answer was brief: “Yes, whether it’s this era or any other.” While this is unsurprising, it’s heartening to see such honesty. It’s unfortunate, though, when the author seems obliged to append a happy ending that I suspect she doesn’t truly endorse.
In her early stages of filmmaking, she composes scenes more skillfully than entire scripts. To achieve a single powerful scene, she encourages us to disregard all others that it may overshadow. In this instance, after a discussion about the difficulty of finding parking in Manhattan, she unexpectedly switches to a shot of the same characters in their car, miraculously parked right outside Lucy’s apartment.
As a movie enthusiast, let me express my thoughts about this film: The climax was so preposterous that it left me heartbroken, like a spurned lover who meticulously tallied every trivial flaw to justify the betrayal of my cinematic trust. I found myself growing irritated over the choice of clothing Lucy packed for her Iceland adventure, which seemed to punctuate the movie’s deception.
In her third movie, it seems like Song might express her genuine thoughts throughout the entire film duration. I admire how she portrays women who grapple with the fear that their hearts may be too icy to experience deep satisfaction. As Harry from Pascal’s work would put it, there’s something intriguing about her raw and unforgiving scenes. Leaving the movie, I felt a familiar rush of emotion, similar to what I experienced after “Past Lives.” I found myself yearning to take Song to a relationship counselor and say: I’m ready for commitment, but she strays.
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2025-06-12 22:31