Materialists

2025
Directors: Celine Song
Starring: Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, Pedro Pascal, and more.

An ambitious young New York City matchmaker finds herself torn between the perfect match and her imperfect ex.

Materialists isn’t the kind of romantic comedy that trips over its own feet for laughs. There are no contrived meet-cutes, no farcical misunderstandings, no grand comic set pieces designed to cue the audience when to laugh. If you go in expecting the fizzy pleasures of a classic studio romcom, you’ll be disappointed. This is a quieter, sharper film that’s more interested in emotional arithmetic than punchlines.

Celine Song’s follow-up to Past Lives is set among wealthy, image-conscious New Yorkers who approach love the same way they approach real estate or investments. They come with checklists, trade-offs, and an eye toward long-term return. Dakota Johnson plays Lucy, a high-end matchmaker whose job is less about romance than optimization. She soothes a bride’s pre-wedding panic not by waxing poetic about love, but by calmly reminding her what the groom adds to her life. The math works, so why hesitate?

Lucy herself lives by that math. She describes herself as materialistic without apology, and the film doesn’t rush to contradict her. She wants comfort, good food, a beautiful home, and a partner who makes life easier rather than harder. Love, as traditionally defined, feels like a luxury she can’t afford. It’s an attitude shaped by experience, specifically by John (Chris Evans), her ex, a kind-hearted but chronically broke actor still chasing dreams in cramped apartments and off Broadway productions. He believes in art and possibility. Lucy believes in rent checks.

Enter Harry (Pedro Pascal), whom Lucy meets at the wedding of one of her successful matches. He’s wealthy, magnetic, emotionally intelligent, and refreshingly direct about his interest in her. On paper, he’s everything Lucy says she wants. Their scenes crackle with ease and attraction, the kind of chemistry that feels effortless and adult, built on mutual recognition rather than fantasy.

The film’s first half is its strongest, dismantling modern romance with a scalpel. Song’s script is deliberately blunt about its ideas, sometimes almost daring the audience to argue. Lucy articulates her worldview clearly and often, rejecting the cinematic myths that say love alone is enough. This is romance reduced to logistics, and it’s both funny and kinda devastating.

As the story shifts into its second half, Materialists softens, allowing romance to seep back into the cracks Lucy has carefully sealed. The problem is that the emotional pull isn’t evenly distributed. Johnson’s dynamic with Pascal is electric, while her scenes with Evans are gentler, warmer, but noticeably flatter. Evans plays John with sincere affection and quiet longing, embodying a love rooted in acceptance rather than advantage. Conceptually, he represents the heart of the film’s argument. Dramatically, he never quite competes with Pascal’s gravitational pull.

Zoe Winters delivers an affecting supporting performance as Sophie, a client caught in the brutal realities of dating while aging out of the preferences of her male peers, while Marin Ireland adds texture in a smaller role. Together, they reinforce the film’s central anxiety: love may be universal, but the market for it is anything but fair.

Materialists isn’t trying to make you swoon so much as make you think. What do we want from love? What do we expect it to provide? How much of ourselves we’re willing to negotiate away in the process? It’s thoughtful, occasionally frustrating, and emotionally honest in ways most romantic comedies avoid. It may not give you the fantasy, but it understands exactly why we keep chasing it anyway. At nearly two hours, it’s very entertaining.

Isy