Deconstructing Desire: An Analysis of Celine Song’s ‘Materialists’
Introduction
In the landscape of contemporary cinema, few films have sparked as much debate and introspection as Celine Song’s ‘Materialists.’ Following the critical acclaim of her previous work, ‘Past Lives,’ Song’s latest offering is not merely a continuation but a deliberate interrogation of modern romance. Starring Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, and Pedro Pascal, ‘Materialists’ delves into the complexities of love, money, and societal expectations, leaving viewers with a lingering sense of unease and a desire to unpack its themes. This analysis will explore the film’s commentary on the commodification of relationships, the discomfort of realism, its echoes of the past, and its broader implications on societal values.
Beyond the Love Triangle: A Commentary on the “Market” of Love
At its surface, ‘Materialists’ presents a familiar trope: the love triangle. Lucy, a matchmaker for New York City’s elite, finds herself torn between her pragmatic ex-boyfriend, John, and the financially unstable but emotionally resonant Harry. However, the film quickly transcends this trope to offer a scathing critique of the commodification of relationships in a hyper-capitalistic society.
Song deliberately positions Lucy within a system that reduces human connection to financial viability. The narrative 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 is not accidental; it forces the audience to confront the uncomfortable truth that economic factors increasingly influence romantic choices.
One of the most potent metaphors in the film is the subplot involving leg-lengthening surgery. This seemingly outlandish detail serves as a stark reminder of the 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 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 matters, and 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.
Conclusion: 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.