Celine Song explores modern romance in Materialists by dismantling the familiar blueprint of the romantic comedy, highlighting how financial concerns and digital-age dating impact relationships today. Unfolding against the urban backdrop of Manhattan, the film delves into the emotional volatility that arises when love gets tangled with money, echoing themes from Song’s acclaimed debut, Past Lives, but focusing this time on a broader generational experience rather than specific personal memories.
Lucy Finds Herself Torn Between Idealized Partners
Materialists centers around Lucy, played by Dakota Johnson, who is faced with the classic romantic dilemma of choosing between two suitors. On one hand is Harry, portrayed by Pedro Pascal, a wealthy, charismatic ‘unicorn’ who seems to possess every desirable quality a partner could have, especially in the world of New York’s elite matchmaking scene. On the other is John, depicted by Chris Evans, a struggling actor and erstwhile love, whose less stable lifestyle reflects the harsh realities faced by many pursuing creative careers. Each man serves as a distinct archetype, symbolizing the competing values of passion and security. Celine Song uses their dynamic to critique and complicate traditional genre tropes, though neither suitor quite transcends his prescribed role.
Lucy’s own life further complicates matters. As a successful matchmaker, she approaches relationships with clinical precision, evaluating potential couples based on statistics—net worth, height, lifestyle goals, and more. Early in the film, her analytical approach appears effective; she celebrates her ninth successful client marriage, evidence of her method’s efficacy, even if it sometimes strips romance down to numbers and probabilities.
The Influence of Wealth and the Realities of Modern Dating
Lucy’s meeting with Harry becomes a turning point. Both she and co-worker Daisy (Dasha Nekrasova) are immediately struck by Harry’s rare combination of traits, referring to him as a ‘unicorn’ among eligible bachelors. This introduction highlights the trio—Lucy, Harry, and John—and the Manhattan environment as central to exploring how economic stability, looks, and status dominate the contemporary dating “market.” Lucy is as surprised as anyone when Harry—who seemingly has his pick of partners—pursues her, especially since, by her own calculation, she doesn’t fully meet the profile of his ideal match.
Flashbacks reveal the depth of Lucy’s relationship with John and her struggle to reconcile emotional connection with financial hardship. The memory of their break-up, prompted by ongoing money struggles and her own bitterness, casts Lucy not as someone driven purely by material concerns, but as a person genuinely grappling with what she seeks in a partner. Materialists uses these conflicted emotions to both question and reinforce the idea that love can be quantified—or at least that its conditions are shaped by the realities of modern living.
Online Dating and the Commodification of Relationships
Song turns her gaze to the mechanics of contemporary dating, often drawing direct lines between online matchmaking and consumer culture. Scenes unfold in which Lucy and her clients list partner preferences as if shopping for products. The language of dating morphs into economic terminology; Lucy describes the pursuit of relationships as navigating a ‘market,’ and the qualities of a partner as assets, further reducing human connection to data and choice. This framing suggests a collective anxiety: are people looking for love or simply making rational selections based on measurable traits?
Within these exchanges, Materialists is at its sharpest, dissecting how technology and data have restructured the search for romantic fulfillment. Lucy’s worldview—preferring statistical range over intangible qualities—comes under increasing pressure as her own love life grows more complicated. The film’s second half pivots closer to rom-com convention, focusing more on whether Lucy will stick to her formulas or allow genuine upheaval to disrupt her careful equilibrium.
Visual Style and Emotional Tension Elevate the Story
Shabier Kirchner’s cinematography captures the contrasts between Harry’s opulent lifestyle and John’s more precarious day-to-day, grounding the film’s emotional stakes in real, relatable settings. Upscale restaurants, pristine Manhattan condos, and bustling city streets offer a visual juxtaposition to John’s modest existence, enriching the central theme of love versus money.
Still, despite the film’s polished appearance and moments of insight, there are times when dialog and character motivation seem to serve Celine Song’s message more than organic storytelling. The trio—Lucy, Harry, and John—sometimes drift into philosophical debate about money and romance, sounding more like stand-ins for a thesis than authentic individuals. This approach, while intellectually engaging, can pull viewers out of the immediate emotional experience, reminding them of the film’s intent to critique as much as to entertain.
Pivotal Events Force Lucy to Reevaluate Her Choices
A key turning point comes with an incident involving Sophie (Zoe Winters), one of Lucy’s clients, which starkly addresses the risks and emotional hazards tied to digital-age dating. Sophie’s traumatic experience momentarily forces Lucy to see the process—and her own role within it—in a new light, provoking questions about whether love is something that can truly be manufactured or controlled. However, the narrative’s reliance on this incident to produce a late-stage epiphany for Lucy arguably strains believability, especially given her experience in the dating world. The script’s handling of this shift, as well as Lucy’s subsequent introspection, might feel abrupt to some viewers and at odds with her otherwise pragmatic demeanor.
As the story draws to a close, Lucy’s actions—along with her consideration of what Harry calls ‘intangible assets’ in a relationship—appear to be motivated less by her character’s authentic growth and more by the film’s determination to provoke debate about love and money. Conversations about the nature of attraction or the factors that foster a real emotional bond become more stylized and less convincing as genuine discourse. Ultimately, the storyline boils down to the familiar dilemma: do you choose a partner for love or for financial security? Materialists appears to challenge and mimic the very rom-com formulas it sets out to interrogate, blurring the line between critique and homage.
The Broader Impact of Materialists on the Romantic Comedy Genre
Materialists, shaped by Celine Song’s direction and sharp observations, raises critical questions about the intersections of love, wealth, and algorithm-driven matchmaking in the modern world. With its conflicted tone and slick production, the film invites viewers to confront their own beliefs about what makes a relationship valuable—and whether romance can ever truly be separated from economic realities. Featuring performances from Dakota Johnson, Pedro Pascal, Chris Evans, and a supporting cast that includes Dasha Nekrasova and Zoe Winters, Materialists brings together a trio of characters who each personify a piece of contemporary dating’s biggest dilemmas.
As the closing scenes unfold, the movie’s pointed self-awareness and shifting perspective leave the audience pondering whether our choices in love are ever entirely free from calculation. Materialists finds its voice not by resolving these questions, but by reflecting the ongoing struggle to balance heart and mind—a theme that remains deeply relevant in today’s rapidly evolving dating landscape.
