Materialists
In Materialists, Celine Song turns her gaze to the contradictions of contemporary desire – the yearning for love, status, security and spontaneity – and the uncomfortable intersection of all four. Evidently inspired by the literary legacy of women writers, the film borrows the crisp wit and moral dilemmas of Pride and Prejudice, and echoes Amy March’s steely-eyed assertion in Little Women that marriage, above all, is an economic proposition. These ideas surface repeatedly, in the mouths of various characters, refracted and reworded with bleak humour and startling realism.
Dakota Johnson plays Lucy, a professional matchmaker in New York, gliding with soft-spoken assurance through the neuroses of the upper crust. She soothes, flatters and calculates – her clients’ anxieties, salaries and romantic prospects forming the sharpest, most engaging portions of the film. There’s a real bite in these moments: one client in his 40s insists he wants a woman with maturity – just not over the age of 27; another arrives with a four-page checklist of demands. Lucy’s life, like her strategically curated wardrobe, is sleek, performative and comically absurd – and it’s in this terrain that Materialists most confidently thrives. There is much to appreciate in Song’s keen eye for the punishing economics of urban life – from astronomical parking rates to Lucy subletting her apartment for just a week – which grounds the movie in a fitting financial realism. One perfectly timed scene sees Lucy enthralled by the extravagant interiors of Harry’s $12 million Tribeca penthouse than by Harry himself as he is passionately kissing her.
While the satire lands with precision, the romantic elements falter. Lucy’s relationship with Harry (Pedro Pascal), the perfect specimen of generational Wall Street wealth, unfolds devoid of chemistry or dramatic tension. The issue isn’t simply that the relationship seems destined to fail – it’s that we neither believe in it nor feel compelled to care whether it might succeed. Meanwhile, her rekindled romance with her ex, John (Chris Evans), a struggling theatre actor juggling waitering duties alongside the cliché of a beat-up car and terrible roommates, feels equally uninspired. As Lucy takes a four-week sabbatical and the romantic storylines take centre stage, the film’s momentum stalls, with the characters feeling mismatched in a way that lacks the spark or charm of a compelling opposites-attract dynamic. The closing chapter arrives with the weight of narrative obligation, veering into cliché and romantic escapism that feels curiously at odds with the feature’s sharper, more knowing instincts elsewhere.
Ultimately, the Materialists’ strength lies less in love and more in the theatre around it – the scripting, the self-deception, the material realities. Materialists may stumble as a romantic comedy, but it excels as a study in the cynicism and sincerity that quietly coexist in modern relationships.
Christina Yang
Materialists is released nationwide on 15th August 2025.
Watch the trailer for Materialists here:
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