Materialists
Dakota Johnson and Pedro Pascal in Materialists
You don’t think of yourself as a Dakota Johnson person until you watch her in a movie like Materialists and realize you are very much a Dakota Johnson person.
She commands the screen like few performers her age, an undeniable presence the third-generation actress seems to have inherited from both her parents (Don Johnson and Melanie Griffith) and grandmother (Tippi Hedren). Madame Web and the Fifty Shades series were hardly the best showcases of her talent, but The Lost Daughter, Cha Cha Real Smooth, and now Celine Song’s second feature show what she’s capable of when working with the proper material.
Though only slightly less predictable than the average romantic comedy, Materialists is infinitely wiser, more bittersweet, and moving. It’s also only intermittently funny, but when it is, it’s hilarious — usually in a sardonic way. Hence why so much of the discussion around it has related to whether it is or is not a rom-com, an admittedly silly debate that nevertheless reveals just what Song is going for. The film was clearly made by the same writer/director as Past Lives, albeit filtered through a less tear-jerking lens, with Song displaying the same level of insight about dating, matchmaking, and the prospect of two people growing old together as her protagonist.
That’s probably because, like Lucy (Dakota Johnson), Song herself once worked as a matchmaker. Lucy is preternaturally skilled at what she does, with an intuitive understanding of what draws and then keeps people together. “It’s just math,” she says with a touch of cynicism — similar upbringings, tax brackets, and looks — but she wouldn’t be the protagonist of a movie like this if she truly felt that way in her heart of hearts. Like Nora (Greta Lee) in Past Lives before her, Lucy is also caught between two suitors: one a penniless ex-boyfriend (Chris Evans) for whom she still carries a torch, the other a suave millionaire named Harry she meets at a client’s wedding (Pedro Pascal).
Pascal is also well cast as a “unicorn” who scores a perfect 10 in every category that could possibly matter to a potential match, from debonair good looks to an obscene bank account and enough charisma to make you not resent him for all those zeroes. (A well-placed scar suggests there may be more to his six-foot stature than meets the eye, however.) Then there’s Evans, displaying the same everyman charm as pre-super serum Steve Rogers, as a struggling actor who refuses to give up his dream and get a regular nine-to-five. As in Past Lives, there isn’t much in the way of actual tension among the trio, just an implicit understanding that this is a difficult situation for all of them and there’s no need to raise your voice.
Not every relationship drama needs to descend into Marriage Story histrionics. But, given how similar Materialists is to Past Lives, including the autobiographical bent, let’s just say there’s no need for Song to go for the trifecta with her next project. She’s nimbly examined the 21st-century love triangle, doing so in a rare way that treats each point with an equal amount of care. Materialists is far less gauzy than its Madonna-inspired title would have you believe, and might even herald the arrival of the elevated rom-com in the same way that movies like It Follows and The Witch inspired the supposed elevated horror movement.
Though only slightly less predictable than the average romantic comedy, Materialists is infinitely wiser, more bittersweet, and moving.
It does that, in part, via a surprisingly dark subplot about sexual assault. As the main thrust of Lucy’s job is setting up strangers on dates based on a list of preferred attributes, there’s really no telling what will happen once they meet. She’s celebrating her ninth marriage as the film begins, but one of her pairings leads to an attack that she can’t help feeling responsible for — especially when the victim responds to Lucy’s attempted apology by calling her a pimp.
More than one character speaks of their partner making them feel “valuable,” a deliberate choice of words that ties into the title and how much of Lucy’s job, and her own desires, relates to money. She reveals her salary to Harry in a halfhearted attempt to tell him he could do better than her, asks him how much his Tribeca apartment costs, and, in a flashback to her time with her ex, gets out of his car and argues on the street about $25. But what happens when a romantic partner makes you feel worthless? Song handles thorny material with a soft touch, turning what initially feels like an ill-advised tangent into a vital part of her second statement on why we love the people we do. This may be a material world, but there’s more than one way to feel valued.
Well, no, but it's an interesting angle all the same.
One is much nicer than the other.
It's the rare landmark that exceeds the hype.
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