Materialists

As I walked out of the dark theater with Manhattan’s lights flickering ahead, I felt that Celine Song had crafted Materialists into an acidic and melancholic portrait of love in an age of apparent prosperity. The camera, always in motion, glides through wealth and emotional uncertainty — and even surrounded by sharp suits and well-lit lofts, Lucy (Dakota Johnson) makes you feel, deep in your chest, the cost of everything that seems free.

It’s a well-constructed tapestry of contrasts: on one side, Harry (Pedro Pascal), the epitome of the “unicorn” — tall, handsome, wealthy, socially skilled. On the other, John (Chris Evans), the struggling actor with a shared room and a bohemian soul. Both are living symbols of the economic inequality that critics have pointed out and which is felt in nearly every frame.

Dakota Johnson delivers one of the most compelling performances of her career — there’s no glamour here, just a matchmaker who, with a calculating gaze, knows every parameter of income, hair, height, and education, yet falls silent before her own reflection. There’s something in how she manages emotional distance and deploys her smile as a shield that stiffens this character without turning her into a caricature — which makes the final catharsis honest, not manipulative.

Song’s direction attempts to deconstruct the traditional romantic comedy — what one reviewer called a “rom-com deconstruction” — and she succeeds in blending humor with doubt. It’s romantic, but not a rom-com. It’s a wedding comedy for the modern world, talking about “marriage as business,” gently mocking Jane Austen with jokes about price per square foot, income brackets, and zip codes. Some moments evoke the lightness of Lubitsch or Sturges — that skillful dance between what’s said and what’s withheld feels almost poetic.

The film falters a bit in the second half, when Song introduces a subplot involving client abuse. It has noble intentions — showing that love “for sale” isn’t always safe — but the tone suddenly shifts. The pacing lags, and the sharp, verbally agile first act begins to lose its spark. Some critics noted this loss of momentum.

Even so, Shabier Kirchner’s clean cinematography enhances the close-up shots of intense, near-theatrical dialogue, where every glance becomes a character. Daniel Pemberton’s score walks the line between glam and urban melancholy — elegant, restrained, and emotionally textured.

The standout moment for me? A dinner scene at Harry’s upscale apartment, with Lucy reflecting in the living room mirror — warm lighting contrasting with her cold talk about data, expectations, and bank balances. From that point on, the comedy bends toward melancholy, and we realize the characters are painfully aware of the price they pay for every choice.

Strengths: sharp script, aligned cast, an honest engagement with the financial reality of modern love. Song has done something original here — she doesn’t romanticize the city, she interrogates it. Weaknesses: the second act drags, some emotional arcs remain underdeveloped, and the tone teeters between cynical and overly didactic.

Materialists is a film that unsettles precisely because it knows what it is: an adult, sharp, offbeat romance. I applaud its courage to avoid the formulaic happy ending — but I also understand it may frustrate those looking for escapist lightness. As for me, I walked out reflecting: did Lucy really have to choose? Sometimes, growing up means learning that no partner can make up for your own absence.



Materialists (2025 / United States)
Director: Celine Song
Writer: Celine Song
Cast: Dakota Johnson, Pedro Pascal, Chris Evans, Zoë Winters, Marin Ireland
Runtime: 117 min.