THE MATERIALISTS. Love (Not) for Sale [REVIEW]

Even though her brilliant Past Lives made many believe Celine Song was born with a camera in her hand and that telling bittersweet stories about modern relationships is her life’s calling, Song didn’t grow up dreaming of being a world-renowned film director (let’s recall—she was Oscar-nominated for her feature-length debut). The Korean-Canadian filmmaker tried her hand at various jobs, the most surprising and original of which—worthy of becoming the foundation of her latest film project—was a stint at a matchmaking agency in New York City. And so, a young woman without a clear plan for herself was suddenly immersed in the complexity and unconventional nature of human relationships.

We can only imagine how shocking it must have been for her to encounter the unrealistic expectations of lonely New Yorkers, who saw love largely as a financial transaction—carefully calculated, aimed at ensuring social advancement and a boost in self-worth. When Song finally decided to leave behind that unconventional job and go all-in on film directing, it was only a matter of time before she would return to anecdotes from her youth. She chose to tell a story about love in a world where it’s seen either as a relic of the past or—worse still—a nonsensical invention of 90s rom-coms, defying all rational logic.

And yet—in The Materialists, her second film after the success of Past Lives, Celine Song, with her signature tenderness, empathy, and respect for all sides (in this case, three) of a love triangle, proves that this ancient, one-of-a-kind emotion cannot be priced. Despite marketing that targets fans of traditional romantic comedies, fans of A24 films likely won’t be surprised to learn that The Materialists is decidedly not a rom-com. Unlike the genre’s typical rules, in Song’s work, the promise of a happy ending never lingers for more than a few fleeting moments. The film’s protagonist, Lucy (a deeply emotional performance from Dakota Johnson), may be one of the most effective matchmakers at the New York agency Adore, but privately she’s given up on romantic highs and everlasting love—a “disease” she cured long ago after breaking up with her boyfriend John (Chris Evans) after five years together.

Now, with experience in matching couples based on specific criteria—height, skin color, personality traits, and most importantly, annual salary—Lucy increasingly applies this pragmatic logic to her own life. After all, if love were truly within reach, desperate singles wouldn’t be spending thousands to find the “perfect” partner. The first “but” arrives at the wedding reception of one of her clients. The man who shakes up her anti-romantic worldview is a god in human form—handsome, rich, and charming Harry (the ever-reliable Pedro Pascal), who, despite her persuasive efforts, refuses to join Adore.

Instead, he wants to prove to Lucy that shared interests, meaningful conversation, and a spark of passion shouldn’t be generated through questionnaire checkboxes—they should come from face-to-face connection. The second “but” follows only minutes after Harry’s arrival: Lucy’s ex. Her former love, whose downfall came from financial incompatibility—she had a plan and managed her money wisely, while John, dreaming of an acting career, was broke. Though they both admit they haven’t thought much about each other during the years spent wrapped up in their own problems, it doesn’t take many words for their long-dormant feelings to reignite.

And so, the carefully constructed, almost simulated reality Lucy created for herself must once again confront a difficult dilemma: what sacrifices is true love worth (if it even exists!)? And in today’s world, so obsessed with material values, can we resist the lure of wealth and comfort? Celine Song could have easily taken her story in a less realistic direction, falling back on clichés about love conquering all. Thankfully, she doesn’t. Both Lucy—lost in her own expectations—and her two love interests—Harry, who wants to keep her in his luxurious life, and John, a kid in a grown man’s body offering only heartfelt affection—receive equal attention from the director. Each of their personal, complicated stories is given room to breathe.

Lucy, in what might be Dakota Johnson’s most affecting role to date, slowly emerges from her idealistic bubble where compatibility is calculated, and realizes how limiting and damaging such a short-sighted approach to people can be. Her final romantic decision is not framed as a competition but as the purest, most human instinct imaginable. Because—as Celine Song shows us again and again, especially in the second half of the film—luxury jewelry, multimillion-dollar apartments, and dining at exclusive restaurants cannot replace genuine, irrational, and messy love.

While The Materialists doesn’t match the emotional weight of Past Lives, it is a strong follow-up and companion piece. Like her 2023 film, Song exposes the rawest, most vulnerable parts of our romantic missteps, while also reflecting—through Lucy—on women’s roles in today’s world: in love, in careers, in life. Lucy, Harry, and John begin this race from different starting lines, determined by wealth, appearance, and perceived social value. Harry—handsome and successful—has sacrificed a great deal to attain his market position. In a moving scene with Dakota Johnson, we see how deeply today’s men are affected by the constant pressures of toxic masculinity. Meanwhile, John is light-years away from his rival’s “asking price”—because in a world where love is for sale, being a good person doesn’t matter as much as what’s in your wallet. To this harsh categorization, Celine Song loudly says no. She defies the expectations of audiences hoping for a rehash of familiar love triangles. The Materialists is about the hidden parts of ourselves we try to conceal from the world out of fear—fear of judgment, rejection, and vulnerability.

In Song’s hands, romantic cinema becomes something refined, free from idealized Instagram-filtered realities, and instead rooted in the raw truth. https://youtu.be/4A_kmjtsJ7c The film’s dialogues leave the viewer stunned, moved, and contemplative—worthy of prompting a reevaluation of one’s own definition of love. Because even though a materialist is often seen as emotionally detached, Song argues that we all have a bit of that in us—and she does so with attentive, compassionate observation. If the Oscars, Golden Globes, or any major film award were to create a category for the most beautifully written life dialogues, Celine Song could stand proudly alongside Richard Linklater and Noah Baumbach.

She once again delivers a full spectrum of emotional experiences—and this, hopefully, is just the beginning of a brilliant directing career.