Can’t Buy Them Love

Matchmaking and marketing have a lot in common. In both cases, the job involves understanding the client or customer and then offering solutions that meet their needs, all in an effort to build a relationship that lasts.

That’s obviously simplifying things, but for many “buyers,” what they want — or rather, what they say they want — is equally simple. And sometimes, to connect with people and attract them, marketing messages have to be simple. And those messages have to tick all their customers’ boxes. Otherwise, there won’t be a match.

Writer/director Celine Song’s new movie, Materialists, ticks a lot of boxes. The marketing campaign certainly tried to tick them all, playing up the attractiveness of the cast and the romantic nature of the plot. The film’s trailer, with its clichéd narration, even used Madonna’s song “Material Girl” to get the message across. (Of course, it did.) It made the film appear to be something straight out of the late 2000s, a film that, like 27 Dresses, probably would have starred Katherine Heigl, Ed Burns, and James Marsden if it had been made around then.

And maybe that’s a good thing, because that kind of marketing will probably put a lot of butts in seats. Thankfully, the film is a good match that offers actual value.

In Materialists, Dakota Johnson (Daddio) plays Lucy, a matchmaker for the New York City elite. Clients of her employer’s firm — called Adore — have very superficial wants: Someone rich, someone tall, someone fit, someone young … You get the idea. And Lucy, who is, of course, single, says she’s also looking for someone with superficial qualities: tall, rich, good looking. So, when she meets Harry (Pedro Pascal) at a client’s wedding, how can she resist? 

Harry is what those in the matchmaking business call a “unicorn”: He comes from old money, he works in private equity, and he’s unbelievably charming and nice … In other words, he’s the perfect package.

On the other hand, there’s John (Chris Evans), an ex-boyfriend who Lucy reconnects with at that same high-society wedding. Not that John is an invited guest; he’s working the event. Years earlier, the two broke up over money issues, and now, in his late 30s, John is still a cater-waiter, not to mention still a struggling actor still living in a cramped apartment with roommates. Basically, he’s Harry’s polar opposite — other than the charming, good-looking part, that is.

And yet, Lucy clearly still has feelings for him. What’s a girl to do?

Yes, on the surface, the film definitely sounds like it’s going to be one of those retro rom-coms aimed squarely at a mainstream audience. But in Song’s hands, the film is something better: A thoughtful, intelligently made film made for discerning adults. 

That should not come as a surprise. Song’s last film, Past Lives, which was also about a love triangle, was grounded in the specifics of Korean culture, but thanks to an emotionally rich screenplay and beautiful performances, it felt wholly universal. (For the record, it was my favorite movie of 2023.) If there’s one filmmaker who knows how to tell this kind of story without it feeling cheap or pandering, it’s her.

Song is a filmmaker who subverts expectations and eschews the clichés of the genre. Trailer aside, there are no pop songs or cheesy needle-drops on the soundtrack (the only exception being “Sweet Caroline,” which is played during a party scene), and no grand gestures made at the end. She also doesn’t indict one gender or the other; both are portrayed as shallow and superficial, imperfect beings who believe they deserve perfect love lives. 

Whereas Past Lives featured so many scenes of heartbreaking awkwardness and silence, Materialists features a witty and verbose screenplay with scenes where characters utter sometimes cringey and sometimes biting takes on modern love and the transactional nature of relationships — “Love is the last religion,” “Marriage is a business deal,” etc. Better are the scenes that focus on the smaller moments of relationship development, where Song lingers on conversations, such as in an early one where Lucy and Harry are on a date. Reflecting her background as a playwright, Song shoots it in a long, mostly unbroken two-shot, letting the actors speak without any cutesy musical embellishment. 

There’s also the scene where Lucy goes back to Harry’s swanky Tribeca apartment for the first time and, while making out with him, keeps stealing glances to take in how nice the place is. It’s not overplayed for laughs, like a less talented filmmaker would have done. Rather, it feels authentic because it’s what the character would probably actually do in that scenario.

The film’s authenticity is its strongest asset, and when it focuses just on the core trio, it’s at its best. Johnson’s chemistry with both Pascal and Evans is strong, and while it may not be in doubt who Lucy will end up with, it’s still enjoyable to see her in both pairings.

Which is why it’s disappointing that Song felt the need to introduce a subplot involving a client (Succession’s Zoe Winters) whose date goes very wrong, about halfway through the film. Perhaps this was her attempt to add substance and elevate the material. Instead, it’s just unnecessary, it throws off the tone, and it makes the film a good 10 or 15 minutes longer than it needs to be.

Materialists is a glossy entertainment that’s undeniably engaging. But it lacks the quiet yearning and the romantic tension that made Past Lives such a winner. Is it unfair to expect every film from Song to be as good as that one was? Yes. But when a debut is that good, the bar can’t help but be raised.

Ultimately, Materialists is a metaphor for itself, a film that checks many desirable boxes, but not all of them. It may attract you based on superficial qualities, but if you lower your expectations, it will mostly win you over.

I’m giving it a B.