Quote from Alex bobby on June 12, 2025, 7:18 AM

‘Materialists’ Review: Celine Song’s Dazzling Love Triangle Shines Beyond Romance

In her sophomore feature, Materialists, Oscar-nominated director Celine Song once again proves her mastery of intimate, emotionally complex storytelling. While early trailers hinted at a glossy, high-concept romantic comedy — complete with a love triangle starring Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, and Pedro Pascal — what Song delivers is something deeper, sharper, and far more resonant: a candid dissection of modern love, ambition, and the transactional undercurrents that often tie them together.

Song, who earned acclaim for Past Lives — a poignant film about love, destiny, and cultural identity — brings the same layered sensibility to Materialists. Here, Johnson plays Lucy, a high-end matchmaker in New York who operates with steely resolve and brutal honesty. Her job, matching wealthy clients with "suitable" partners, is not merely about chemistry or romance; its about compatibility — financial, social, and psychological.

Lucy’s role might seem like a familiar rom-com device, but it's grounded in authenticity: Song herself briefly worked as a matchmaker before becoming a playwright and filmmaker. That experience lends credibility to Lucy's world — one of whispered demands, impossible checklists, and the unsettling realisation that love is often treated like a luxury commodity.

At the core of Materialists is Lucy’s emotional and ideological conflict between two men. There’s John (Chris Evans), her ex-boyfriend and a struggling actor still hustling as a wedding waiter, and Henry (Pedro Pascal), the rich, poised brother of a client whose lifestyle is everything Lucy now desires. The contrast is intentional, but it’s not simplistic. Song resists the temptation to vilify either man or idealise one over the other. Instead, she presents a scenario where each represents a facet of Lucy’s evolving priorities — security versus spontaneity, stability versus sincerity.

The plot kicks into gear at a lavish wedding where Lucy bumps into both men. Her old flame, John, is pouring drinks, clearly still carrying the weight of their breakup, which we see in a flashback that captures the emotional fracture over a simple, sad meal from a street cart on their anniversary. Money, or the lack thereof, ended their five-year relationship, a moment underscored by the chaos of a New York street. It's a heartbreaking yet mundane rupture, the kind Song depicts so well — where the big questions of love are filtered through everyday disappointments.

Enter Henry. Played with affable polish by Pascal, he’s wealthy, emotionally open, and clearly intrigued by Lucy’s confidence. He listens, he invests, and he mirrors Lucy’s desire for an affluent, controlled life. But their chemistry is more cerebral than fiery. Whether by design or happenstance, Song emphasises that their bond stems not from romance but from mutual ambition. “Once you’ve had your first $400 haircut, you can’t go back to Supercuts,” Henry quips — a line that feels like both a punchline and a philosophy.

Despite Lucy’s belief that “marriage is a business deal,” Song doesn’t paint her as cold. Johnson gives a compelling, magnetic performance, making Lucy’s honesty feel refreshing rather than ruthless. She’s not jaded — she’s pragmatic. That distinction fuels the film’s central question: can love and financial ambition coexist without compromise?

Evans is equally compelling as John, portraying a man who’s emotionally raw, occasionally bitter, but never cruel. His longing for Lucy is palpable in every glance, every pause. When they reconnect — briefly, quietly — there's a sincerity and softness that recalls the emotional beats of Past Lives. You believe in their past, and you believe in its impossibility.

Where Materialists sets itself apart from standard rom-coms is in its detours. There’s a subplot involving a client whose date takes a violent turn — a jarring moment that pulls the film out of romantic fantasy and into the sobering realities of dating in a modern world. Song uses comedy sparingly and effectively, especially in scenes where Lucy deals with absurd client demands: too bald, too short, too old. At one point, she wryly claims to be “Dr. Frankenstein” assembling the perfect spouse. It’s sharp, funny, and just bitter enough.

The film crescendos at — where else — a wedding. As Lucy dances with one of her suitors to the classic That’s All, the lyrics cut through the materialism that’s surrounded her: “I can only give you love that lasts forever.” It's a moment of sincerity wrapped in ambiguity. Can love without wealth survive? Can love with wealth be genuine?

Song doesn’t answer these questions definitively, but she offers something better: a grounded, hopeful finale that trusts the audience to reflect. Lucy’s arc isn’t about choosing between two men. It’s about reclaiming agency over her choices, understanding her own contradictions, and recognising that fulfilment may lie in balancing — not rejecting — ideals.

Materialists is a sophisticated, intelligent film disguised as a love triangle. It’s not about who gets the girl or who gets the ring. It’s about who gets to define what love means in a world where everything — including affection — comes with a price tag.

Song has once again crafted a story that lingers long after the credits roll. If Past Lives was about fate and missed chances, Materialists is about pragmatism and present choices. Both are equally haunting and human.

Conclusion

Materialists is a striking follow-up to Celine Song’s Past Lives, offering a fresh, emotionally honest take on love, ambition, and the compromises we make in pursuit of both. With nuanced performances from Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, and Pedro Pascal, the film defies romantic comedy conventions to explore the subtle, sometimes painful intersections between affection and affluence. Rather than delivering easy answers, Song invites us to sit with the complexity of modern relationships — where desire, money, and meaning are often entangled. Thoughtful, stylish, and refreshingly grounded, Materialists solidifies Song’s place as one of the most insightful storytellers of our time.