With Past Lives, writer/director Celine Song crafted a directorial debut so distinctive that it was difficult to objectively judge her subsequent work. The highly personal story of Past Lives was of two childhood friends, one that stayed in Korea, and one that immigrated to the United States. Their reunion came several decades later, and forced them to consider the choices that they’d made. Although they’d adjusted to their current living spaces, they contemplated whether their current realities were worth disregarding for the sake of a return to an elusive, almost fantastical version of the past, which may or may not have existed had they stayed together.
It's too often that promising filmmakers are forced to follow up an indie feature with a studio project in which they have no personal investment. Chloe Zhao, the director of Nomadland, has been in a career slump following the disastrous response to Eternals, one of the worst films in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Song’s relationship with A24 gave her the opportunity to do something slightly more personal, even if it’s among the more commercial projects that the popular distributor has released. While marketed as a classical romantic comedy in the vein of Notting Hill or Jerry Maguire, Materialists is closer to the slightly more dramatic style of Mike Nichols or James L. Brooks.
Set in modern day New York City, Materialists is centered on the matchmaker Lucy (Dakota Johnson), who uses a precise algorithm to pair singles with one another. Upon Lucy’s invitation to a client's wedding, she’s introduced to the charismatic financier Harry Castillo (Pedro Pascal), whose skepticism about “matchmaking” can’t mask his personal interest in her. The wedding is also where Lucy is given the opportunity to reunite with her ex-boyfriend, John (Chris Evans), whose failing career as an actor has forced him to work in the service industry. Although sparks fly upon their reunion, Lucy’s reminded that their breakup was partially due to John’s anxiety about hi socio-economic status.
Although it's framed as a “Who will she choose?” style of romp, Materialists is in combat with the idea of modern dating. Lucy’s offended by John’s suggestion that dating and love aren’t the same thing, but her experiences with Harry are taken from an outdated system. The characters of Materialists desire a mathematical, strategic system to find their “soul mate.” It’s revealed that there’s no way to anticipate how someone may react under pressure, or whether attraction will wane over time; Lucy’s profession may be based on probabilities, but to spend time with a stranger is a risk.
There's an artfulness to the painterly, glossy manner in which Song’s NYC environments are framed, but the use of empty space is a suggestion of how lonely her protagonists are. Although it's very verbose, Materialists is savvy to not dedicate entire segments for characters to express their mental health issues. The instances in which Lucy, Harry, and John have the opportunity to give voice to their interiority are centered on the concept of self-love, a surprisingly potent theme in a film that has stigmatized single people.
Even when dialogue is used to convey expository information, Song has allowed for each character’s anxieties, values, and self-imposed status to impact the way that they convey themselves. The film’s dullest sections are those that require action, as the film is shifted from its more observational approach. It doesn’t help that the conveniences that shape the third act, while expected in a standard rom-com, are too artificial to synthesize with the otherwise authentic quality of Song’s work.
Although there’s enough poetic visuals and memorable, self-declarative lines in Materialists to make the clumsiness of its coincidences easy to ignore, the film has a barrier of entry about its representation of class. The simplistic suggestion that wealth and happiness aren’t mutually exclusive doesn’t resonate. Evans is able to convey the emotional burden that has come with not being able to pursue his passion, but Johnson’s quickness to judge is rarely addressed as a character flaw.
Johnson’s an interesting actress; her work in Luca Guadagnino’s A Bigger Splash and Suspiria suggested she’s best when allowed to play removed, unusual characters whose interiority can’t be defined. While Materialists benefited from having a female lead who’s more reserved, the opaque nature of Johnson’s portrayal is a hindrance to any catharsis that Lucy’s self-discovery could have brought. Even if the words are alright during John’s heartfelt final moments with Lucy, it's clear that Evans and Johnson are in different films.
Evans, who has struggled to find compelling roles in the wake of his Marvel exit, is finally given the opportunity to show that he was once an ambitious actor who worked with auteurs, including Edgar Wright (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World), Rian Johnson (Knives Out), Danny Boyle (Sunshine), and Bong Joon-ho (Snowpiercer). Perhaps Evans’ own experience as a working actor informed his depiction of one, but John’s the film’s only character that could feasibly exist outside of the story that’s told. Evans plays the one character who isn’t broadly a “materialist.”