Deconstructing Desire: An Analysis of Celine Song’s ‘Materialists’
Celine Song’s ‘Materialists,’ following the critical acclaim of ‘Past Lives,’ arrives not as a simple continuation, but as a deliberate interrogation of contemporary romance. The film, starring Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, and Pedro Pascal, has sparked considerable debate, not merely over *who* Lucy chooses, but *why* – and what that choice reveals about our evolving relationship with love, money, and societal expectations. The consistent refrain across reviews and online discussions is a lingering sense of unease, a feeling that the film doesn’t offer easy answers, and that’s precisely its strength. The pervasive “can’t stop thinking about it” sentiment, echoed by both viewers and the director herself, suggests a work that resonates beyond the typical romantic comedy framework.
Beyond the Love Triangle: A Commentary on the “Market” of Love
While superficially presented as a love triangle, ‘Materialists’ quickly transcends that trope. The narrative centers on Lucy, a matchmaker for New York City’s elite, who finds herself caught between her pragmatic ex-boyfriend, John (Evans), and the financially unstable but emotionally resonant Harry (Pascal). However, the core of the film isn’t simply about choosing a partner; it’s about the commodification of relationships in a hyper-capitalistic society. The film portrays dating as a “market,” where individuals are assessed based on their “competitive” value, and marriage is treated as an equation to be solved. This framing isn’t accidental. Song deliberately positions Lucy within a system that reduces human connection to financial viability, forcing the audience to confront the uncomfortable truth that economic factors increasingly influence romantic choices.
The inclusion of the leg-lengthening surgery subplot, seemingly outlandish, serves as a potent metaphor for this societal pressure to optimize oneself for the dating market. It highlights the lengths to which individuals will go to enhance their perceived value, even through invasive and potentially harmful procedures. This detail, meticulously researched by GQ, underscores the film’s commitment to portraying the anxieties and absurdities of modern dating with piercing honesty.
Lucy’s Choice and the Discomfort of Realism
The ending of ‘Materialists’ – Lucy’s decision to return to John – has proven particularly divisive. Many viewers express disappointment, interpreting it as a reinforcement of conventional, even regressive, romantic ideals. However, Song herself has consistently emphasized that the ending isn’t about endorsing a particular relationship, but about acknowledging the complexities of human desire and the often-unromantic realities of long-term commitment.
The director’s explanation centers on the idea that Lucy, despite her attraction to Harry, ultimately chooses stability and a shared history. This isn’t presented as a triumphant victory, but as a pragmatic decision born from a recognition of the challenges inherent in building a life with someone who lacks financial security. The film doesn’t shy away from the fact that money *does* matter, and that ignoring this reality would be disingenuous.
Furthermore, the unraveling crisis involving Lucy’s client, Sophie, and her abusive husband, subtly reinforces this theme. Sophie’s situation serves as a cautionary tale, highlighting the vulnerability that can accompany financial dependence within a relationship. Lucy’s choice, therefore, can be seen as a subconscious attempt to avoid a similar fate.
Echoes of the Past, Reflections of the Present
‘Materialists’ consciously draws parallels to classic romantic comedies like ‘When Harry Met Sally…,’ prompting a re-evaluation of those films through a contemporary lens. While ‘When Harry Met Sally…’ explored the possibility of platonic friendship between men and women, ‘Materialists’ asks a more pointed question: can love truly transcend economic disparities in a society obsessed with wealth?
Song’s film also shares thematic resonances with her previous work, ‘Past Lives.’ Both films explore the weight of choices, the lingering power of the past, and the inherent sadness that accompanies the realization that life rarely unfolds as we expect. Both are exquisitely made, character-driven, and rely heavily on dialogue to convey emotional depth. However, ‘Materialists’ distinguishes itself by directly confronting the material conditions that shape our relationships, a departure from the more ethereal exploration of fate and longing in ‘Past Lives.’
The Materialist Critique and its Broader Implications
The film’s title itself is a deliberate provocation. ‘Materialists’ isn’t simply about people who are materialistic; it’s about the pervasive influence of materialism on all aspects of life, including love. Research consistently demonstrates a correlation between materialism and decreased wellbeing, increased anxiety, and diminished self-actualization. The film taps into this cultural anxiety, exposing the emptiness that can result from prioritizing financial success over genuine connection.
The online debate surrounding the ending, often framed as “broke man propaganda,” underscores the film’s success in provoking uncomfortable conversations. It forces viewers to confront their own biases and assumptions about love, money, and the role of societal expectations in shaping our desires. The passionate responses, as Song notes, are a testament to the film’s ability to tap into deeply held beliefs and anxieties.
A Rom-Com Deconstructed
Ultimately, ‘Materialists’ isn’t a traditional romantic comedy. It’s a thoughtful, often unsettling, exploration of love in the 21st century. It doesn’t offer easy answers or a neatly packaged happy ending. Instead, it presents a nuanced and honest portrayal of the compromises, anxieties, and contradictions that define modern relationships. The film’s enduring power lies in its refusal to shy away from the uncomfortable truths about love, money, and the ever-increasing pressure to quantify our worth in a world obsessed with material possessions. It’s a film that stays with you, prompting reflection long after the credits roll – a testament to Celine Song’s ability to craft stories that are both deeply personal and profoundly relevant.