REVIEW. THE MATERIALISTS: Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough...But It Should Be, Shouldn't It?
- MaryAnn Janosik
- Jun 15
- 7 min read
Early on in writer-director Celine Song's sophomore feature film (her first was 2023's Oscar-nominated Past Lives), top marriage broker Lucy (Dakota Johnson) who is celebrating her ninth successful union for an agency called "Adore," tells one of the wedding guests named Harry (Pedro Pascal), the groom's brother and potential new client, "Love is easy. Dating is hard."
Hmm. While Harry raises a skeptical eyebrow, Lucy proceeds to explain how love is a feeling you can't control, but dating requires careful assessment and precise calculations: Does the couple come from similar economic backgrounds, or are they financially compatible in terms of wants/needs? Do they share similar political views? Are their physical traits suitable enough to sustain the "grave buddy" attraction necessary for a decades-long relationship? It's all very cold and business-like because, as Lucy attests, marriage is a business deal.
"You just have to do the math," she smiles.
So much for romance or, at least, the rom-com, as we know it.
Or maybe not.
Song's 2023 inaugural feature,Past Lives, was a beautifully nuanced, intimate love triange than was clearly more "rom" than "com," hearbreaking in its poetic modesty, bringing intimacy to the ordinary and depth to an otherwise modern tale of first love revisited after life has gone in very unexpected directions. Its Oscar nominations for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay were definitely earned, even if both lost to bigger films seen by a wider audience. Past Lives was one of my favorite films of 2023, second only to Barbie in the power of its message and for my own emotional attachment to the story and its existential themes.
The Materials rides in on Past Lives critical success, boasting more popular actors and a bigger budget. Even so, Song doesn't sacrifice intimacy or depth of meaning in her latest exploration of love. She still ponders the reasons we decide to marry: is it a societal expectation? an avoidance of loneliness? validation of self-worth? And what about the pitfalls of a bad match? Does lead to the inevitable: boredom, estrangement, sexual alienation, infidelity and, ultimately, divorce?
Song doesn't provide a definitive answer, but she has delivered another masterful screenplay full of questions, ambiguity, angst, and eventually hope. Lucy is introduced as all-business Alpha-female, checking all the boxes necessary for her clients to score a perfect match, cynical about love as the reason to marry, and convinced that, unlike her clients, she is likely to die alone.
Enter Harry, a successful financier who isn't interested in Lucy as a matchmaker. He thinks she is perfect for him as a partner and persuades her to date him to prove her formula for a lovematch will work for them. Lucy's game to try. Harry is, as she tells him "perfect" on paper, he has all the attributes of to be a successful match: money, education, charm, culture and taste, plus he has a full head of hair, and he's the right height (6 ft.). The issue of height becomes an amusing point of discussion and revelation.
It is here in these off-hand remarks and seemingly ridiculous standards, that Song shines, infusing wit into Lucy and Harry's sexual banter, and reminding us that a woman wrote the screenplay. She skewers men's fixation on women's bodies: one client repeatedly tells Lucy his only requirement in a partner is that she is "fit," a term he repeats over and over with increasing intensity; another fires Lucy for fixing him up with a 39 year-old (too close to forty) whom he claims was "fat" (she wasn't).
Age is also key: a 48 year-old client complains that he needs "more mature" women and requests 27 year-olds, as opposed to the 21-24 year-olds he's been dating, but not 29 year-olds as they are too close to thirty and women in their thirties are just too complicated. I couldn't help but recall some of Sex and the City's early episodes when Carrie Bradshaw & Company bemoaned the high expectations men have for women at any age, but especially when they are in their thirties and everything from biological clocks ticking to menapause advancing become topics for discussion.
Lest you think The Materialists is full of male-bashing feminism, it's not. Song takes women to task for equally "material" fixations. One potential client hands Lucy a two-page, single-spaced list of attributes she requires in a partner, saying, "I deserve to be loved. After all, I'm a catch."
"No, you're not," Lucy retorts, diplomatically adding, "Because you're not a fish." Though sometimes uneven in the serious v. silly qualities that define twenty-first century dating, The Materialists keeps the story and the characters buzzing with whip-smart dialogue and probing queries about love, sex, commitment and everything in between.
Lucy and Harry's romance is punctuated by encounters and phone calls from her ex, a struggling Broadway actor named John (the very appealing Chris Evans), whose presence reminds us - and Lucy - that lasting love might not be as simple as checking all the boxes. Though their split was amicable, and based on some very practical reasons, mostly his lack of financial resources, their feelings and, perhaps more importantly, their trust and respect for each other, remain, and we see that reflected in small details, gestures, and moments.
The Materials has many components familiar to the traditional rom-com: a romantic triangle, a couple meeting "cute," a series of obstacles to overcome, but Song strays admirably from the rom-com formula by making the journey interesting, the characters flawed and imperfect, keeping the romance understated and the ending up-in-the-air. Framing the movie with an opening and closing sequence that is a precise metaphor for the movie's message (I won't give it away), Song continues to grow and evolve as a cinematic poet.
Now about Dakota Johnson, who has probably spent the past ten years looking for roles that expand her skills from the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy, shines here. Her Lucy is a fierce combination of practical business woman, savvy matchmatcher (she boasts her talent lies in recognizing "chemistry" between two people), and vulnerable woman assessing her own self-worth as much as she analyzes her clients. It is a beautifully nuanced performance that holds the movie's narrative together, maintaining a healthy balance between her two romantic suitors, and keeping Song's theme about the inherent tension between romantic and practical love fronter and center at the movie's core.
As I watched The Materialists, I kept thinking about a novella from my undergraduate days that is still among my favorites: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther, the tale of a young artist desperate to consummate his feelings of love for a young woman named Charlotte, even though she is betrothed a another man, the older, wealthier, more utilitarian Albert. Goethe's language, in particular, serves as the key to describing Werther's love (lots of eclamation points and pastoral imagery), elevating things as mundane as gardening - and Werther's feelings - to a higher, more ethereal level.
Song infuses her own poetic imagery here, using light and dark, specifically flickering candlelight, to emphasize romantic moments and, convesely, moving all practical, romantic business into the more stark, unforgiving daylight. She uses flowers, too, to accentuate love, with smaller, more delicate blossoms symbolizing true love and affection.
When, late in the move, John looks at Lucy and declares, "When I see your face, I see wrinkles and children that look like you," you'll either cringe or think of W.B. Yeats' poem, "When You Are Old," which begins, "When you are old and grey and full of sleep..." I couldn't help but wonder what Song was thinking when she crafted that touching, genuine scene, as John doesn't possess any of Lucy's most important attributes: he's poor with no promising financial prospects, he's not well-educated and he lacks culture. And yet....
One more observation that really made The Materialists a winner for me, a film I would see again - some of you know that's my real litmus test - would I watch this movie again? - was the music. From the original song, "My Baby (Got Nothing At All)" by Japanese Breakfast, which I hope will be remembered at Oscar time, to Harry Nilsson's whimsical, "I Guess the Lord Must Be in New York City," to Baby Rose's cover of Nat King Cole's classic "That's All," Song has carefully selected an eclectic set of melodies that underscores the complexities of post, post-modern romance.
My favorite was Françoise Hardy's "Le Temps de L’amour" which really seemed to codify Song's musical counterpoint to the story. And then, as the end credits rolled, there was John Prine, singing a duet with Iris DeMent called "In Spite of Ourselves," that was originally written for Billy Bob Thornton's 2001 movie Daddy and Them, a family dramedy that got shelved when Miramax wanted to push Thornton's All The Pretty Horses instead.
Prine and DeMent made me sit up and listen. When I thought Song's sountrack choices couldn't express love's quirkiness any better, here were Prine and DeMent remphasizing the notion that "whacked out weirdos and lovebug junkies" are as much a part of lasting relationships as "big hearts dancin' in our eyes." It was one of those moments that not only made me smile, it reminded me why I love the way movies can wrap you in their story and touch your heart.
Daddy and Them can be found now on Prime Video, AppleTV and YouTube, and if you want to experience Prine's powerful, less sentimental than Bruce Springsteen's "If I Fall Behind," check out one of his performances of "In Spite of Ourselves" on YouTube. You're welcome.
A few critics, notably one from the NYTimes and the other from the New Yorker, bemoaned that when Song introduces unnecessarily serious subplots that contain violence, she spoils the rom-com mystique and thus leaves the movie somewhat disjointed.
I respectfully disagree. Instead of being "undone by its own ambition," The Materialists is more of a mature deconstruction of the ubiquitous romantic comedy. If you're looking for something simple and predictable,The Materialists isn't for you. If your expectation is another S&M rout for Dakota Johnson, then rewatch the Fifty Shades franchise.
Celine Song has created another thoughtful treatise on love, life, and the choices we make. Her narrative is complex, as are her characters, her observations and insights into the human condition are wry and wise. Like life, situations and relationships sometimes get messy. Ultimately, though, she reminds us that love is more than a series of boxes we check off to find a suitable partner. Assessment, especially appraising self-worth and value, is tough.
But you've got to do the math.
*******
The Materialists is now playing in theaters and worth the time and price of a ticket. For those unfamiliar with the Celine Song's small, but impressive movie resume, please check out Past Lives. Song is definitely a writer-director to watch.
Past Lives is streaming on various platforms: Netflix, AppleTV, Paramount+, Prime Video and Fubo.
And MJ's 2023 review of Past Lives can be found on this blog:
Comentarios