‘Materialists’ is for the yearners and the lovers
An incredibly long review/essay about Celine Song’s new romantic drama. *spoilers!*
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Celine Song’s achingly romantic new film Materialists opens with a vignette of two cave people, the main character Lucy’s (Dakota Johnson) fantasy of the first people who got married. The caveman returns home with a sack full of flowers to sit with his beloved. He places a flower whose stem has been molded into a ring on her finger. There’s no big budget wedding, no white dress, no dowry, no party, no audience. There’s just a commitment. Just two people who love each other and want to make their love official. The audience is left wondering if we’re in the right theater, but more importantly “what made people get married in the first place?”
I absolutely adored Materialists. I was quite literally giggling and kicking my feet as the story unfolded. The film was beautiful, showcasing shots of a romanticized New York City, the fast-paced life of a career woman navigating the luxury world in which she works, the music was perfectly complementary to the story, the wardrobe made me want to tap into the oversized blazer game, and the performances were wonderful. It’s not hard for Chris Evans, a real-life yearner, to play John, an actor moonlighting as a cater waiter, and a hardcore yearner, and it’s even less difficult for me to root for him. (Sorry Pedro, you’re competing with a crush that’s been alive and well since I watched Fantastic Four (2005) in middle school.)
If you’re a romance fan or just a hopeless romantic, you will love this film. I find that romance films directed by women, such as To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018), have a certain je ne sais quoi about them. They’re soft around the edges, honest but not brutal, and leave me feeling warm and fuzzy. They evoke a romantic feeling in me, and Materialists did not disappoint.
Before I get too ahead of myself, Materialists follows Lucy, a 30-something matchmaker living in New York City (who makes $80,000/year, before taxes), who we meet as she celebrates the 9th wedding she’s made possible. Professionally, she helps people find love, but personally, she isn’t too concerned with romance. She had it once, in a 5-year-long relationship with 37-year-old John, but they ended things because they were turning into her parents––always arguing about money. The problem wasn’t each other, it was their situation. Since, Lucy has been doing well for herself and is thriving at work.
At this 9th wedding, she meets Harry (Pedro Pascal), a 40-something rich private equity guy (whose apartment cost $12 million) who takes a liking to her. She attempts to recruit him as a client, but he wants to be matched up with her instead. She doesn’t seem to understand why––the math doesn’t add up––but indulges him anyway. But lo and behold, guess who’s working the party? John.
“He makes me feel valuable”
So much of the film surrounds the idea of worth, both monetary and intrinsic, and how in the modern dating world, the more materialistic traits tend to cloud, or outright eclipse, the intrinsic ones. Lucy’s female clients can’t get past a bad hairline or a salary below six figures, and especially not a man under six feet tall. And her male clients in their 40s want a woman who can carry on a conversation at their intellectual level, yet won’t raise their age preference above 27.
The bride of Lucy’s 9th wedding tells Lucy that she wants to marry her fiancé because she knows that her sister is jealous of her––her fiancé is more successful, better looking, makes more money, etc. than her sister’s husband. Lucy spins this to sound a bit more human-like by saying “he makes you feel valuable.” This revelation saves the marriage, as prior to this conversation, the bride wasn’t sure she wanted to walk down the aisle. Almost immediately, we are introduced to one of the pitfalls, ethically, of this business. Whether or not these people should get married, or if it will be a successful marriage, is none of Adore Matchmaking’s concern. The concern is the match itself. What comes of it after they say “I do” is not their problem.
When looking at Lucy’s two options, rich Harry or poor John, it seems obvious which one makes Lucy feel more valuable. I must be worth something if a man like Harry is interested in me. Lucy tells Harry in their last conversation in the film that he makes her feel valuable. But it rings hollow, especially in light of the first usage of that phrase in the film, because that’s not enough. For those who see marriage as solely a business deal, it is. But Lucy’s cynicism about marriage, and her knowledge that she can feel love for someone because she has previously, prevent her from seeing that as enough. The value she feels with Harry is monetary––she likes the restaurants he takes her to, the flowers he brings her, the apartment he lets her stay in, the car service he can call for her. She likes to be seen with him, and what that makes others see in her.
Meanwhile, the only flashback scene we have of John and Lucy’s prior relationship in the film is a fight they have in the middle of the street. As John looks for parking so they can celebrate their 5 year anniversary with a restaurant reservation, he doesn’t want to stop for parking at a place that costs $25. He simply can’t afford it. The two argue, but not in a blow-up kind of way, more so in a “I’m angry at the situation, not at you” kind of way, and Lucy decides that she really can’t be in a relationship where both of them are broke.
When the two meet again, John is still in the same position. He still drives the old Volvo he can’t afford to park; he still lives in an apartment with two roommates who have no respect for boundaries; and he is still trying to make it as a theater actor while making ends meet in the service industry. But Lucy never once looks down on this. When he apologizes for being a little rude after the wedding, he says honestly “Sorry, I’m being a dick because I’m embarrassed.” She responds, “what are you embarrassed about? Having a job?” (I will forever repeat that to myself.)
John can’t provide financially for her right now. Harry obviously can. But in the end, this is not the sort of value that Lucy wants from a partner. She can clearly live on her own without any financial assistance. The value she wants is someone to love her in full view of her flaws and her shortcomings. And she knows John has never failed to see that intrinsic value in her.
Class Differences in One of the Noisiest Cities in the World
One of the first things I noticed in Materialists is the sound design. The pleasing click clack of Lucy’s boots on the asphalt. The dress shoes on the dance floor. The thump of a coke bottle and a glass of beer being confidently placed on a table by an unattached arm. It was so crisp and so important. The most important use of sound in my opinion was the way the poor characters couldn’t escape the constant hustle and bustle of the city, while the rich characters could afford the pleasure of silence.
This reality was illustrated through space and sound. The scenes in John’s apartment were easily the most chaotic––a mirror cabinet that won’t lay flush against the wall, a used condom on the kitchen floor, the noisiest kitchen appliance in existence: the blender––which provided a good amount of comedic relief, but also the reality of just how tough it is to be chasing a dream that makes no money. The windows that let in every ounce of sound the street below can possibly provide. The annoying roommate stealing your charger, causing your phone to die and your alarm to not go off. John can’t get away. There is no peace.
Both Lucy, and her most prominent client in the film, Sophie L. (Zoe Winters), live on the first floor of their apartment buildings, where sound can still infiltrate their space. Granted, their streets are nowhere near as noisy as John’s, but their slightly superior living situation is still not exactly ideal. At the most superior position is Harry, who lives in a penthouse apartment. So high up that he can pretend that he doesn’t even live in the city that never sleeps. When Lucy goes to his apartment after a date, she is stunned by the beauty of it, but I was stunned by how quiet it was. All I could hear was the rustling of their clothing and her stilettos on the floor. Needless to say, there were no roommates, and more space than anyone would know what to do with.
After Lucy ends things with Harry, her and John head upstate for the week. Their first real moment together since the end of their relationship is surrounded by trees, fresh air and space. They have peace and quiet at their disposal. While their first conversation after the wedding at the beginning of the film was a temporary oasis, interrupted by the sound of a passing van, a reminder of the lack of privilege that got in their way the first time, this is a real sign of their choosing to make peace with what they have: a week away afforded by Lucy’s canceled trip and John’s stipend from his play.
Dating Isn’t All Fun and Games for Women
Sophie L. is a 30-something all-around nice girl, which is precisely why Lucy has the hardest time finding her a match. Lucy says of Sophie L. that she has an okay job, an okay education and makes okay money, but there’s nothing extraordinary about her. No standout qualities. (You come to realize throughout the film that this is likely what Lucy thinks about herself.) She sends Sophie L. on dates with men who don’t want to go out a second time, and then has to face Sophie L. who admits that she’s “trying to settle” because she doesn’t want to die alone. Lucy tells her that she will not die alone, and that Sophie L. doesn’t have to believe it, because Lucy believes it.
Lucy’s genuine concern about Sophie L.’s chances dissipates when Lucy checks in with a client she set up with Sophie L. who tells her that he’d like to see her again. In spite of this good news, Lucy cannot get a hold of Sophie L. The why comes when Lucy is called into her boss’s office, who tells her that Sophie L. was assaulted on her date. Both Lucy and I were shocked to hear this, while Lucy’s boss states that this is just a part of the matchmaking game. There will be “bad matches,” she says. Mine and Lucy’s naïveté about the consequences of this line of work fade away as Lucy responds, “it wasn’t a bad match. She was assaulted.”
I really was not expecting this unfortunate dose of reality in this film. I genuinely thought it would be all fun and games, but this was such a welcome addition to the film that really added to the severity and the questionable ethics of the matchmaking world. Lucy’s first instinct is to call Sophie––no longer Sophie L.––and check in, but her boss cautions against this, telling her to let their lawyers handle the suit Sophie is bringing against the company.
This is the watershed moment for Lucy, who, despite her frustration with finding Sophie a match, realizes that Sophie is the only client that she actually likes. Sophie may get caught up on a potential match being 5’11” instead of 6’0”, but she’s normal and just wants to be loved. She doesn’t tell Lucy “No Blacks. No fatties,” or is a closeted lesbian hoping for a match with a female Republican. She wants what Lucy wants.
When Lucy meets up with John at a bar after Lucy and Harry attend his play, she is upset about Sophie and contemplating what to do about it, but doesn’t tell John exactly what’s going on when he asks. She shares that she just doesn’t feel good at her job anymore. He responds by saying that she doesn’t destroy the environment by working at Shell or turn into a greedy corporate sellout by working at McKinsey, so how bad could it be? “Yeah, it’s just dating. Girl shit,” is her (sarcastic, obviously) response.
There’s no way John could’ve known the severity of what was bothering Lucy, but the point made here is that even a well-meaning man doesn’t grasp how serious it is to date as a woman. A bad date for a man is maybe a waste of money and time. A bad date for a woman could be the worst or the last day of her life.
I loved how the Sophie storyline wrapped up in the film, but for the sake of time I won’t go into it here. Sophie’s journey provided a really excellent dose of reality, and a wake-up call for Lucy about what she does.
The Bachelor-ification of Modern Dating
One of the other things I noticed in Materialists was the way Adore Matchmaking referred to their clients as first name last initial––Sophie L., Lucy M., John P., Harry C. If you’ve ever seen The Bachelor, this is how they refer to their contestants as well. Not only is this practice impersonal––if you wanted it to be personal, you would just use their first name––but the connection to The Bachelor increases the feeling of a gamified dating environment. People are relegated to their physical and financial attributes, with no accounting for their feelings, their desires, their dreams or their histories.
In a world with so many visible options, it’s harder for people to “settle” for someone who possesses one of their dealbreakers, regardless of their chemistry or compatibility. As Lucy grows more frustrated with her clients’ impossible asks, she tells one of them that she can’t just piece together all of the things they want and build their perfect match like Dr. Frankenstein. These are people. They contain multitudes, they are bald, they’re not “fit,” they have debt, they’re 5’6”, they have a big nose and they are still worth something.
John is a character who, on paper, would not make sense for Lucy, per her own admission. She claims “the math doesn’t add up.” She has the same feeling about Harry. She doesn’t seem to think that she deserves either of these men who, despite the math not mathing, want to be with her. She knows that dating is hard and love is easy, but takes years to realize that the love she shares with John is exactly what people are paying her to find, despite what the math says.
Unfortunately, another aspect Materialists’ Adore Matchmaking has in common with The Bachelor franchise is the failure to properly vet their clients. Lucy’s boss’s reaction to Sophie’s assault was business-as-usual. She doesn’t feel that the company was responsible for what this man did to Sophie on the date they set her up on. But isn’t it a reasonable assumption that the company––who is being paid handsomely––would better vet the clients they send out on dates?
Last-Minute Gushing
Overall, I had a really great experience watching this film. I related so much to Lucy’s feelings of self-worth in relationships, or the lack thereof, and her struggle with who she wants to be with versus who she wants to be seen with. Similarly, I loved seeing John still pursuing his passion into his late 30s and not being shamed for that. The woman he loves has always loved to watch him act and feels no type of way about his pursuit of that goal.
I’ve seen so many people on Letterboxd saying that Chris Evans’s character is a loser and no way Lucy would have chosen John over Harry. (Calling John a loser because he is broke is actually the whole point of the movie: how we see others not as people with real aspirations and potential and instead as status symbols to show the world how valuable we are. John presented no other faults besides his financial situation, which he even proposed ways to improve during his final love confession to Lucy, so, to me, there’s no real reason to cut him out of the running for Lucy’s affection solely because of his lackluster bank account besides being a hater.)
Also, were we watching the same movie? On chemistry alone, Dakota Johnson and Chris Evans were in a different universe than Dakota Johnson and Pedro Pascal. Harry’s one benefit was what he could provide financially. John’s one downfall was what he couldn’t provide financially. The two are not the same. At no point was Harry a real romantic threat to John lol.
Additionally, I’ve seen some critiques that the script was too neat, but I frankly loved the neatness of it because it illustrated the maturity of the characters. There were no screaming matches, no fist fights born out of jealousy, no horrible things said out of anger and then taken back by cooler heads. These people were in their mid-to-late thirties and they acted like it. Everything was soft around the edges in the best way possible. There was no bad blood between any one of the three main characters, and it was evident in the script’s neatness.
Lastly! When I put “slow dance with the love of my life” on my bucket list, the slow dance between John and Lucy is exactly what I was talking about. The dance that turns more into a tight hug with a sway. The beautiful live music in the background. The feeling that there’s no one else in the world but the two of you. The kiss. The kiss!! Wow. Thank you, Celine Song.
Celine Song is clearly a hopeless romantic, as Materialists highlights the materialistic aspects of modern dating, but showcases a couple that answers the question asked at the beginning of the film in the least materialistic way. In a world where marriage is seen by many as a business deal, a joining of powerful families, a status symbol or a box to check off on one’s quest to complete the game of life, what makes two people whose relationship doesn’t add up get married? True love.