52 Films by Women Vol 9. 15. Materialists (Director: Celine Song)
‘I’ve heard every
reason to get married. I promise I won’t be shocked by any of them.’ (Lucy
Mason, Materialists)
Romance isn’t dead,
just commodified. We don’t marry for love, rather a mixture of desire,
loneliness and wanting to be safe. White weddings, anniversary meals, Valentine
Days are all for show. These gestures can make couples more anxious than
necessary. The expense, enforced remembrance, purchases that one regrets even
as the order is placed online. Romance is as cardboard as the detritus left
after one bulk order. The more non-recyclable material we hide in the bin, the
more genuinely unhappy we are. One of us might be pleased, the other less so.
Celine Song, the
writer-director of Past Lives, examines relationships through this lens in
her film, Materialists. Set in New York City, a drain on emotional
and financial resources requiring a competitive edge, it is a film about
pragmatism. It asks, does economics drive the durability of coupledom? This is
a film squarely aimed at young professionals; biological clocks rarely feature.
We see older men angling for younger women, seeking assurances on age and body
mass index. We see older women seeking a moneyed suitor. People living in high
income areas can relate to the movie, which portrays the exercise of privilege.
In my local cinema, located in a student city, the audience didn’t respond.
Friday night at opening weekend and I watched it with just three other people.
Dakota Johnson plays
Lucy Mason, a professional matchmaker responsible for nine marriages. Her
introductions are based on instinct: this man or woman is likely to be right
for you. Matchmaking is generally heteronormative, but it is also a statement
of privilege. My social status is so high, I can afford to hire a matchmaker.
In my day, Matchmakers with thin chocolate sticks, flavoured mint or orange.
Here they come with certainty. ‘It doesn’t matter if you believe it,’ says Lucy
to her clients, ‘I believe it. You’re going to find true love.’ This is New
York City where someone who wants you will pay for your enhancements, though
sometimes that person is you. Lucy makes $80,000 a year – revealing your salary
in New York City is like getting naked – but she could afford surgery, pointing
to her chest. ‘It’s an investment,’ she explains.
Song films Lucy and
her clients head on. In the work scenes, we have the pleasure of appearing to
be looked at by Dakota Johnson. Lucy is cool, confident and sincere. Her
attractiveness is what gives her clients assurance. She knows her own worth –
and yours too. Lucy is also a former actress who stopped believing in herself.
She is bluffing. Her aim – her ‘non-negotiable’ – is to marry an extremely rich
man.
To hear Lucy
describe them, her clients – male and female – are all catches. Yet what we see
are individuals lacking in physical attributes and confidence. She works with
lawyers, doctors and by the look of one man, tech bros. I didn’t entirely
believe in Lucy’s client list. All of them appeared not to cultivate self-care.
They don’t look like elite athletes wanting to be taken to the next level, who
I expect would be exactly Lucy’s customer base. In comparison to the movie’s
three leads, they look real.
Pictured: 'I love how you pick up the check.' Lucy (Dakota Johnson, left) enjoys the high-life with 'unicorn' Harry (Pedro Pascal, right) in a scene from the New York-set dating film, 'Materialists', written and directed by Celine Song. Still courtesy of A24 (US), Stage 6/Sony (UK)
Lucy is torn between
two men – the unfathomably wealthy ‘unicorn’ Harry (Pedro Pascal, who rocks
cinema’s best moustache since Burt Reynolds) and John (Chris Evans), Lucy’s
impoverished ex. The film’s single flashback describes the gulf between Lucy
and John. John won’t pay $20 for 40 minutes parking to take Lucy to an
expensive restaurant. He’d rather look for off-street parking, even if it means
losing a reservation and a financial forfeit. John has expectations of what life
should be. Lucy sees it as it is. Both of them are movie characters – why don’t
they order in at hers, or dine in Brooklyn? Their conflict is rooted in a
greater reality. ‘Spend money on me,’ Lucy appears to insist, ‘I’m worth it.’
The early scenes have
punch. Surrounded by an entourage of admiring women in identical dresses, Lucy
is summoned to the bride’s room. There she provides some emergency counselling,
scattering the women as if they were birds. The not-quite-so-young bride
expresses disappointment that she is reduced to getting married. How did it
come this? We hear the crinkle of her dress as Lucy draws closer, asking her
why she agreed to matrimony. The groom ‘makes my sister jealous,’ the woman
explains. Lucy rephrases it to make the bride feel less shallow. ‘He makes you feel valued,’ she explains.
‘Yes,’ agrees the bride, a blotch of make up having formed just below her right
eye, like a birth mark or the world’s largest tear.
Overhearing Lucy,
Harry regards her as a challenge. He doesn’t want to hire her – rather to date
her. ‘You wouldn’t like me,’ Lucy insists after Harry swaps around the place
settings on the singles table to talk to her. He asks what she would like to
drink. ‘Beer and a coke,’ she replies. Just then these drinks are planted in
front of her by her ex, who is on catering duty. The glass of beer is only two
thirds full, which seemed an impertinence. Materialists is a
film where product placement is a point of pride; Lucy is regularly shown
drinking branded bottle beer.
Harry is not put off
by the appearance of this other man with untended facial hair and look of
barely suppressed impotence. Chris Evans made his name playing Marvel
superheroes. Now he’s stuck wondering if he’ll ever get a leading man gig. He
is perfectly cast as the out-of-his-league struggling actor, who at one point
almost slips on a condom left in the kitchen by his roommate, who missed the
waste basket. ‘Be quiet,’ complains another flatmate, ‘I’m trying to teach an
acting class by Zoom and you’re making me look unprofessional’. The
actor-as-waiter is a cliché but a credible one. I believed that John would be
cast in the sort of play where he doesn’t mention the title. You can only name
plays that are classics, not new work. In the film, Song lists herself as the
playwright, which is technically accurate.
‘I like how you pick
up the check with one swift motion,’ Lucy moons admiringly after agreeing to a
series of dates with Harry. He ticks a lot of her boxes – including her
‘non-negotiables’. In the film’s best scene, he takes her back to his apartment
and kisses her. As he does so, Lucy looks around. She is less seduced by him
than by his penthouse. ‘How much does it cost?’ she asks later. ‘$12 million,’
he replies. She doesn’t need a ring; a key will do. Harry pledges to take her
to Iceland, even though she doesn’t have a passport. This apparently is a
perfect destination for a cool, aloof woman.
Unexpectedly, the
film goes dark – and is all the better for it, reminding us of how dating is
fraught with danger. Mark P. (John Magaro) enjoyed his date with Sophie (Zoë
Winters), but Sophie won’t answer Lucy’s calls. We discover that Mark assaulted
Sophie; Sophie is suing the matchmaking company. Lucy is distraught and loses
her confidence. She tracks down Sophie, who describes Lucy as a ‘pimp’.
Pictured: Sophie (Zoë Winters) delivers some home truths in a scene from the New York City-set film, 'Materialists', written and directed by Celine Song. Still courtesy of A24 (US), Stage 6/Sony (UK)
How does a company
undertake due diligence on a client? Song does not answer the question. Lucy
reviews her notes. There is not much to suggest a man with obsessive
psychopathic intent. She starts shucking clients. Her boss, Violet (Marin
Ireland) tells her to take four weeks off, an extremely specific amount of
time.
During that four
weeks, Lucy makes a discovery about the ‘unicorn’, that he had a particular
kind of surgery common among men who want to trade up. When she looks at
Harry’s legs, I thought she had discovered that he had been bitten by a snake.
She discovers a ring – and then makes her choice.
There is a lovely
scene in which Lucy and John follow a truck belonging to the catering company
that he temps for, and they gatecrash a wedding, sitting on the periphery. Lucy
talks about all the things that can go wrong in a marriage. We watch the actress
daughter of Melanie Griffith and Don Johnson appearing to reflect on the demise
of her parents’ relationship. It is a scene that gives the film a shot of
authenticity, elevating it above the rom-com.
My main complaint
relates to Pascal’s Harry. Why isn’t he married? What is he saving himself for?
To quote a cliché, I couldn’t believe he was single. He doesn’t seem to be
protective of his fortune. He is perhaps the only character not rooted in
reality. For many men, moustaches are a mistake.
For all of this, I
appreciated the opening, which does not offer the typical overhead shots of a
city. Rather we hear the crunching of feet on leaves and see a Hollywood
caveman – one without a distended stomach – gather flowers to present to a
woman who receives him favourably and peers into his bag of spearheads. For
some of the audience, spearheads are descriptions of condoms. Lucy makes the
point that relationships are transactional. Yet romance ends up on the table.
Being less transactional is a leveller. The film ends in a marriage bureau that
resembles a bookmakers – a not-accidental comparison. Amongst the couples
making their relationships ‘official’, we see neanderthal man and his bride
walk away from the counter happily betrothed, a scene that takes place
underneath the closing credits.
Reviewed at Curzon
Canterbury Riverside, Kent, Southeast England, Friday 15 August 2025, 21:00
screening
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