Materialists Movie Review: Love, Money, and the Rom-Com That Divided Everyone13 min read

This Materialists movie review contains spoilers. Read at your own risk.

I have watched many romantic comedies throughout my life, but none are as divisive as Materialists. As the latest feature film written and directed by Celine Song, the creative millennial behind Past Lives (now considered one of the best rom-coms made in the 21st century), the film generated high anticipation from both fans and critics. But did it live up to its hype? The answer is as schismatic as conservative and liberal politics.

Materialists is about matchmaker Lucy (Dakota Johnson), who finds herself torn between two opposite lovers: the perfect Harry (Pedro Pascal) and her imperfect ex, John (Chris Evans). While it does not possess the same depth as Past Lives, Materialists has its own unique appeal. The film is “rebellious” and challenges the current norms of a society shaped by hyperconsumerism and capitalism. It is political (Marxist) and I dare say, almost propagandistic.

Deciphering Materialists’ Introductory Scene

First, let’s talk about the introduction, which features two cavepeople—two lovers devoid of material possessions. Instead of proposing with a gold or diamond ring, the caveman offers the cavewoman a ring made from a plant stem, and she is happy and content with this simple gesture.

Initially, I was puzzled about why Celine Song included this scene. Was it an attempt to give the film an experimental and avant-garde vibe? A juxtaposition of the cave era and the hyperconsumerist New York society, several reviewers found the movie’s intro scene nonsensical.

However, towards the end of the film, I realize that Song intended for that scene to provoke thought. It begs the question: what if there were no technology–what if people weren’t bombarded by ads, social media, and everyday individuals donning the latest phone models, travel photos, and other things that scream success? What if we were still living like troglodytes? What if we didn’t need excess materials? Would we prioritize material wealth over emotional connection?

Would we choose someone rich but unable to meet our emotional needs? Or someone broke, but whom we truly love? Song’s idealistic view favored the latter. Lucy ended up with John, a struggling actor who lived an uncomfortable life (he still had roommates he fought with). The movie’s introductory scene justified Lucy’s and Song’s choice.

A Divisive Film Based on Generational and Individual Perspectives

Materialists is dependent on individual ideals and generational perspectives. The film elicits strong emotions and can be quite divisive; viewers either love it or hate it. Younger audiences, who may not have experienced much of the real world, might gravitate towards John, while millennials facing struggles may prefer Harry. This duality makes the film universally relatable, reflecting the truths of various life stages and highlighting what people value most.

As a person who has evolved from an idealist to a pragmatist, I understand that a rapidly changing consumerist society shapes our life’s values and priorities. Like Lucy, I am a millennial in my mid-30s who can have more experiences to wallow in, and with every new learning, I find myself grappling with increased confusion regarding my evolving identity.

A lot of viewers did not like that Lucy chose John over Harry, an ultra-rich finance guy who has his own company. The outcome goes against the current, especially since the movie targets millennials and older members of Generation Z, who often prioritize financial success. Many people are realistic nowadays, so it’s unsurprising that they believe the film’s turnout is unreasonable or BS.

Lucy was ambitious. Throughout the film, it is repeatedly demonstrated that she and John love each other, but they broke up because John couldn’t provide the financial stability she desired. One of their arguments highlighted in a flashback scene was whether to pay expensive parking tickets or risk being late for dinner and facing a penalty—a circumstance that is common for those in the lower middle class or struggling financially. Hence, at the start of the film, Lucy and John are only exes who are friends, not lovers.

Meanwhile, Harry seemed to be everything Lucy had ever wanted. He was perfect in every way: kind, intelligent, a true gentleman, and extremely wealthy. However, in the end, Lucy opted for her ideals and chose someone who values true love, deep connections, and unwavering integrity.

For Harry, everything was transactional, and that, I believe, is the case for many ambitious men. They seek partners that are good for their image and fit their lifestyle, not necessarily someone they genuinely love. At Harry and Lucy’s age, a transactional relationship is quite common. He liked it that Lucy, as he first saw her, seemed devoid of emotional fuss, and perhaps that was the only way he viewed her.

Lucy’s decision was heavily influenced by her work as a matchmaker and her ongoing dilemma with her client, Sophie (Zoë Winters). Lucy was struggling to find a suitable match for Sophie and, in desperation, set up a date with a man she hadn’t properly researched. Unfortunately, the man assaulted Sophie, leading her to file a case against the matchmaking company. Lucy felt immense guilt and anger towards herself for what had happened.

When Lucy discussed the situation with her boss, she was taken aback by her boss’s reaction. Surprisingly, her boss reassured her that it was okay, explaining that she had experienced similar issues in the past and that such incidents were not uncommon in their line of work.

The company’s casual approach to such a serious matter and its apparent disregard for people’s feelings and safety left Lucy feeling disillusioned. This attitude contradicted her core values and her sense of humanity. Additionally, Lucy realized that Harry, the finance guy she was interested in, might share the same views as the company, which discouraged her from confiding in him. Instead, she felt that John would understand her perspective better. Ultimately, Lucy couldn’t compromise her morals and humanity for financial gain.

Song’s choice to portray the movie as “idealistic” comes across as somewhat naive or immature. On the other hand, it might seem like viewers who criticized the film missed out on the setback that Lucy experienced in her company. However, many millennials and older generations have grown and trained themselves to handle stress and have overcome situations like that. Song would somehow be expected to have the same perception, especially since she’s within the controversial Hollywood landscape.

What Song got wrong here is that she presented Lucy with men on opposite sides of the spectrum: Harry, the unemotional finance guy, versus John, the broke thespian who we can only hope will overcome his victim mentality. Song almost romanticized John to such an extent that he appeared to be the only viable choice for Lucy. It might have been more realistic for them to remain just friends, especially since John was accommodating to her. However, it seems Song was unwilling to explore that possibility. Lucy could’ve stayed single until she found a man who’s in the middle—someone not as rich as Harry and not as poor as John, but who can still support her emotionally.

However, the polarity of Harry and John is what makes Materialists divisive and effective. The film sparked several reactions, debates, and discourses. If I were asked who I would choose, to be honest, no one. Lucy didn’t seem to have many close friends, which might be why she ended up choosing John. In contrast, I have a close circle of friends and a supportive family, so if I had the same problem as Lucy, I would likely prefer to stay single.

Celine Song’s Definition of Love

There’s a quote where Lucy tells Harry, “Dating takes a lot of effort, a lot of trial and error, a ton of risk and pain. Love is easy.” I thought about this quote and realized it highlights the distinction between “love” and “challenges.” Lucy meant that when you truly love someone, that feeling can overcome obstacles. The audience understands that they still love each other even if Lucy and John have broken up. Now that John is back in her life, Lucy can never be with Harry because their relationship feels purely transactional. She realized he wasn’t someone she genuinely wanted to be with, especially after witnessing his intention to propose. Their relationship was merely a whirlwind romance without love at its core.

Now allow me to digress and compare Song’s definition of love in Materialists and Past Lives.

Materialists contradict the nuanced portrayal of love in Past Lives. In Past Lives, childhood friends Nora and Hae Sung reconnect at different stages of their lives. However, their physical distance and differing priorities prevent them from staying together. Hae Sung always felt that Nora was the one for him, but when he was ready to pursue a relationship, Nora was already happily married.

Despite Nora’s marital status, Hae Sung went to New York to see his first love, perhaps hoping that their love might have a chance. There was still a spark in there, but Nora chose to stay with her husband, Arthur. It seemed like Nora was not really into Hae Sung that much until the end of the film, when we saw her crying after Hae Sung left, so there was really something there. Arthur understands and considers the significance of his wife seeing her first love, but is no less insecure about Hae Sung. “In the story, I would be the evil white American husband standing in the way of destiny,” Arthur said.

What’s beautiful about Past Lives is the paradox it presents between delusion and reality, which challenges the true meaning of love. It’s easy to romanticize the relationship between Nora and Hae Sung because they only had a brief time together. However, the reality is that Nora is no longer the same person Hae Sung once liked. In the present, Arthur is the perfect match for her.

What would happen if the roles were reversed—if Nora ended up with Hae Sung? Reality would still set in, and problems would arise that could lead them to forget about their In Yun (the concept explored in the film, which refers to a deep, predestined connection between people, often described as fate or providence).

In Past Lives, mature audiences were moved to tears, perhaps because they either have their own Hae Sung or feel a deep sadness about the lost connection (In-yun) between Nora and Hae Sung. However, viewers loved the film for its portrayal of the strong relationship between Nora and Arthur and the complexities of love.

In Materialists, Song went full 180. Audiences are presented with “Love is simple, but dating is hard.” “I love him deeply, so I accept all of him and his flaws.” At the end of the day, love is a choice, and while I respect Lucy’s decision, I see it as a trauma bond: two completely unhealed souls reconnecting. I bet it would only take a matter of time before they revert to their old irks and break up once more—unless something changes, especially in John, who finally decided, out of whim, that he would accept commercial gigs and work harder for their future.

In Past Lives, Song painted love as bittersweet, constrained by the realities of adulthood: nuanced, mature, and real. But in Materialists, she takes a complete turn, romanticizing love as if it can conquer everything. This flip in her definition of love is exactly why Materialists became so divisive. Is Song experimenting and pushing her storytelling in a new direction, or is it a step back into naive romanticism?

On Materialists Seeming Like a Propaganda Tool

Several critics of Materialists have argued that the film promotes a “broke-man” propaganda, as it romanticizes John, who was someone Lucy could rely on. However, he lacked ambition and couldn’t even give Lucy a decent engagement ring. Yet, Lucy chose him instead of Harry, or being single.

Whether intentional or not, Materialists is aligned with recent narratives that question material wealth as a foundation for happiness. Similar ideas have surfaced in political and cultural discourse, such as minimalist movements and controversial visions of the future like the World Economic Forum’s 2030 agenda, which states, “Welcome to 2030. I own nothing, have no privacy, and life has never been better.” WEF denied that goal, but somehow, movie releases that carry a Marxist undertone, such as Materialists, have spread the idea. The introduction of troglodyte characters in the film and Song’s idealistic belief that “true love” can bring happiness and contentment oversimplifies our challenges in a materialistic world.

Even if world leaders and the elites repeatedly push the “choose happiness over property or wealth” agenda into our heads, it can only backfire. Several scientific studies, such as the Property Theory, show that Communism fails (North Korea, Soviet Union, Khmer Rouge). Conversely, Socialism (integrated with capitalist elements) has been more successful in countries like Vietnam, where the focus is on valuing the people rather than empowering an untouchable elite. But that’s another topic we can decipher in the future.

Propaganda or not, Materialists ensures that the debate over love versus wealth won’t end when the credits roll. If propaganda is meant to provoke, then Materialists succeed not by telling us what to think but by forcing us to confront what we value most. And millenials didn’t fall for it. I truly enjoyed the film and loved that it evoked feelings and political discourses. You should watch it.