Materialists

A sharp, stylish rom-com that dissects modern love—though its heroine falls flat

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.

7.2/10