‘The Materialists' is a must-see romantic comedy that asks the impossible: choosing between Pedro Pascal and Chris Evans

Tom's Guide

2 days ago

One of the best things about writer-director Celine Song's 2023 debut feature 'Past Lives' is the way it sneaks up on the viewer with its cumulative emotional resonance.
I wasn't sure if Song could replicate that response with her second film, the romantic comedy 'Materialists,' but watching the movie gave me the same mix of melancholy and hopefulness that I took away from 'Past Lives.'
'Materialists' (in theaters June 13) may be glossier and more comedic than 'Past Lives,' but it has just as much power to move audiences who are open to its perspective on love.
That perspective seems a bit cynical at first, but just as the jaded characters start to embrace the prospect of genuine romance, the movie reveals the pure heart underneath its snarky, aloof exterior.
New York City matchmaker Lucy (Dakota Johnson) is full of snarky observations about the ruthless world of dating, even as she sells her clients on the dream of meeting and falling in love with their perfect match. She tells a co-worker that she plans to die alone, and she clearly doesn't need someone to make her life complete.
That, of course, is exactly when most rom-com characters meet The One.
Lucy meets two competing prospects for The One at the wedding of one of her clients. The groom's brother, Harry (Pedro Pascal), is a suave, wealthy hedge fund manager who isn't interested in engaging the same services that helped his sibling find a match.
Just as Lucy is chatting Harry up and giving him her sales pitch, she spots her ex-boyfriend John (Chris Evans) working as a cater-waiter, still struggling to make ends meet while he pursues his dream of being a theater actor.
From those two chance encounters, Lucy sees two divergent options for her future. She's painfully aware of the compatibility metrics that produce the most fruitful matches, and she tells Harry that he could do much better, even as he pursues her relentlessly and insists he isn't interested in anyone else.
Meanwhile, she stays in touch with John even though — as an uncomfortably relatable flashback reveals — she already knows that it won't work out between them.
In both cases, the conflict often comes down to money, and Song handles that touchy subject with grace and honesty.
Romantic movies often pretend that financial challenges don't matter, but Lucy is upfront with both Harry and John about how their respective financial situations affect her perceptions of them. In her business, income is just as important as any other factor, and building a long-term relationship means forging a life in which both partners are able to contribute.
The first half of 'Materialists' is full of sly humor about this often unspoken but crucial aspect of finding a partner, and Song channels the witty, literary voice of filmmaker Whit Stillman, an expert chronicler of upper-class neuroses in movies like 'Metropolitan' and 'The Last Days of Disco.'
At the same time, Lucy never comes across as unsympathetic, even with her somewhat mercenary tendencies, thanks to Johnson's sparkling, playful performance.
Harry and John may not be professional matchmakers, but they both understand what's at stake as well. Harry doesn't flaunt his wealth, but he doesn't hide it, either, and he knows it's an asset for him with any woman he pursues. But he also truly respects and cares about Lucy, and Pascal exudes enough warmth and tenderness to make up for his character's reprehensible profession.
So many romantic comedies set up obvious rooting interests, with one blatantly superior match who has to wait around for the protagonist to realize what the audience already knows. Song doesn't stack the deck that way, and both Harry and John are equally appealing both for Lucy and for the viewers, until the moment when she realizes what the right choice will be.
There are heavy themes in 'Materialists,' especially in the second half of the movie after Lucy faces devastating news about one of her clients. Even when the story gets more serious, though, Song never loses the aspirational tone. This is a gorgeous movie, shot on luminous 35mm film, recalling smart, swoony romances like Woody Allen's 'Annie Hall' and Richard Linklater's 'Before' trilogy.
Song effortlessly maneuvers Lucy into believing in true love again, and she works the same magic on the audience.