Material Love

Dakota Johnson acts as if she's reading off of a script in front of her. She has no change in tone, no depth to her voice or emotions. Even Pedro was underwhelming in this role. It felt as though Celine Song was attempting to make this film have an incredibly deep and moving message, but it didn't come across as she intended. They marketed this movie as a rom-com, disappointing me when I realized it wasn't. It could have been redeemed by a compelling story but the poor acting and awkward conveyance of a boring intended message proved the film irredeemable. Anyone other than Dakota Johnson would've worked better. Next time cast Daisy Edgar Jones.

It can be hard for a playwright to transition into filmmaking. Plays are famously staid, physical affairs, relying more on dialogue than visual storytelling to convey emotion and plot. Yet Celine Song has made the leap from playwright to filmmaker with a visual fluency and ease that's nothing short of remarkable. Her feature debut Past Lives (2023) became an indie darling, earning an Oscar nomination for Best Screenplay. While its dialogue was crisp and lyrical, it was Song's command of silences and glances that gave the film its emotional resonance. She now follows that impressive debut with Materialists (2025), a quasi-rom-com that strikes while the iron is hot.

Materialists follows Lucy (Dakota Johnson), a New York City matchmaker who views dating through the lens of a financial market-assigning value to men and women based on traits, assets, and compatibility metrics. She doesn't pretend love is purely romantic; she's practical, even transactional. But her worldview is tested when she begins dating Harry (Pedro Pascal), a charming and wealthy suitor, just as John (Chris Evans), a struggling actor and former flame, reappears and rekindles an effortless chemistry.

Song appears especially drawn to love triangles-Past Lives also revolved around a woman caught between two worthy men. But she never reduces her characters to reality-TV archetypes or rom-com clichés. If anything, Materialists functions as an elevated romantic comedy: it still follows familiar narrative beats, but with a more grounded and honest exploration of love than the dreamy worlds of Meg Ryan or Richard Curtis films.

Materialists dives into the realities of modern dating, where apps and algorithms have turned people into commodities in a vast "dating market." Lucy's profession as a matchmaker becomes a narrative device for discussing these themes-her conversations with co-workers mirror the cold calculus behind dating app algorithms, where potential partners are treated like stocks or securities. Boxes are ticked, and wealth is a major factor-no romanticism required. Yet the film avoids becoming a cynical screed about the death of love. Instead, it confronts the tensions head-on: true love can feel "easy," but that doesn't eliminate the realities of trade-offs, or the fact that marriage remains a financial partnership as much as a romantic one.

This sociological bent makes Materialists fascinating to watch-it often feels more like a relationship essay than traditional entertainment. Still, it delivers the genre's essential pleasures: there are satisfying beats and feel-good moments, but with sharper dialogue and more originality than usual. Some lines recall early Richard Curtis in their memorability. Song's playwriting background serves her well here.

Returning to the love triangle structure, Song treats each character with empathy, resisting the urge to vilify one in favor of a tidy moral. All three are endearing but imperfect, and their emotional depth makes you want to spend more time with them. This is especially true of the two men. Pascal finally lands the romantic lead that the internet has long wanted for him-his charm and sly smile are irresistible, and he carries a late, vulnerable scene with deft dramatic control. Evans, a rom-com veteran, leans into a quieter, more melancholic role. His longing and quiet devotion to Lucy-despite her questionable treatment of him-are convincingly portrayed.

The weak link is Lucy herself. As the titular "materialist," she's meant to evolve from pragmatic matchmaker to romantic lead, but she remains frustratingly underwritten. Johnson, whose signature style often leans toward aloof detachment, doesn't help. There's little insight into Lucy's inner world or motivations. She's burdened with being both the audience's point of entry and the character undergoing the biggest arc-yet the script and performance don't give her enough complexity to support that dual role. As a result, the film's emotional center feels muted.

Ultimately, Materialists is a worthy, if slightly uneven, follow-up to Past Lives. It doesn't linger in the soul the way Song's debut did, but it plays with the rom-com form in thoughtful, compelling ways. With sharp dialogue, a probing thesis, and two richly drawn male leads, it elevates the genre's average. Still, when your central character-the fulcrum of both the romance and the film's thematic weight-feels undercooked, one of the film's key pillars noticeably wobbles.

Celine Song is the writer and Director of "Past Lives" (2023) and all I can say it's one of the best films I've ever seen.

Unfortunately the same style and formula made for Past Lives didn't work this time with Materialists. The storytelling of body language, lack of words, the lack of explanation, lack details in their dialogue, the simplicity didn't really add to the story where as Past Lives worked perfectly.

Sorry if I compare it to Past Lives, I know I shouldn't they're both completely different. Besides its not fair.

I think this movie could have been great if the writer would've written the screenplay as realistic as possible. The movie would hit completely different.

I love Pedro Pascal, I'm a fan of his and have posters of him in my room and stuff. Dakota and Chris are great actors, in general the actors did what they could with the script they were given.

Even though I was underwhelmed I was thoroughly entertained the whole time I watched the movie and that's what movies are supposed to do. Maybe it deserves a higher score.

Dakota Johnson is at her best as a matchmaker in Manhattan at the height of her success, but whose own love life is impoverished and full of regrets. Then out of nowhere, she chances to meet a "unicorn" bachelor, a charming, wealthy, educated, handsome (and most importantly tall enough) gentleman (Pedro Pascal, infinitely charismatic) who is in the prime of his career at one of the weddings that her hard work made possible. Their romance seems like a sure thing, but one more fly in the ointment is her old flame (Chris Evans, in a show-stopping performance) resurfacing and bringing back old memories and complications.

The three principals are at the top of their game in this charming but layered film that doesn't quite fit the bill of an archetypal romantic comedy. A darker, more hard-hitting subplot adds some degree of unpredictability. A beguiling soundtrack adds a feeling of wonder. While there were moments when I wished the film could have been bolder, it still delivered and drove home the point about how extremely difficult the dating world in New York can be for men and women alike. You have the enormous pool of dating prospects, the mercurial expectations, a touch of unhappiness and the specter of hope in the distance. That's my way of saying I enjoyed this film very much. Gladly recommended.

'Materialists' was not what I expected.

It's been marketed like a rom-com - but honestly? If you're heading in expecting laughs, you'll be disappointed. What you get instead is a sharp, quietly melancholic study on modern love, dating, and loneliness in the big city. It's not so much about romance as it is about emotional bankruptcy - the way ambition, money, and appearances slowly chip away at real connection.

The story follows Lucy, a matchmaker who views relationships like transactions, caught between two opposites: Harry, rich and polished, and John, her sweet but struggling ex. But the real tension isn't between them - it's in her. What does she actually want? Love, comfort, validation? Or just a life that looks good on paper?

Celine Song's style is unmistakable - lingering shots, dialogue that feels like internal monologue, and a quiet ache humming underneath it all. At times, it almost felt like watching a late-era Woody Allen film - not in tone, but in that subtle, creeping sense of urban melancholy. By the end, I didn't feel uplifted. I felt... thoughtful. A bit heavy, even.

This is a film about the emotional numbness that sneaks in when we live our lives through filters - digital and otherwise. About the loneliness hiding behind perfect apartments and curated dating profiles. And how love (or at least the idea of it) gets commodified without us even noticing.

Not a rom-com. Not really even a romance. More of a character study. A mood piece. A quiet critique. And once I let go of what I thought it was meant to be, I found I really liked it, and I hope you do too.