‘Materialists’ is so much better than rom-coms are usually allowed to be

Celine Song’s sophomore film is one of the year’s best.

There’s a version of Materialists that, in the wrong hands, would be a frothy, cynical romantic comedy full of cheap laughs, emotional manipulation and an ending telegraphed a mile away.

Materialists might wind up at the expected happy ending, but its journey is so much more rich, thoughtful and mature than the genre usually allows. It’s funny, honest and genuinely romantic, with an intelligent script that doesn’t cheat its characters or audience. Two years after writer-director Celine Song announced herself as a voice to pay attention to with Past Lives, she’s made another great relationship movie.

Dakota Johnson plays Lucy, a high-end matchmaker in New York. She’s one of the best in the business, celebrating the marriage of her ninth couple as the film opens. She treats finding her clients’ future spouses the way a realtor locates the perfect house – understand the market, know the non-negotiables, and be realistic about how much issues like wealth, height and looks matter (spoiler: a lot). Lucy doesn’t worry about her own dating life because she’s happy to remain single unless she finds someone very rich. Marriage, she believes, is a business transaction.

She meets a potential partner in Harry (Pedro Pascal), an attractive, charming and insanely rich man who isn’t interested in becoming one of Lucy’s clients; he’s interested in her. About the same time, Lucy’s ex, John (Chris Evans), comes back into the picture. He’s a struggling actor who lives in a crowded apartment, drives the same crappy car he’s had for a decade and works part-time catering. He and Lucy still have some unresolved feelings and history; she dumped him because he couldn’t provide the lifestyle she wanted.

Again, the same plot with these actors could fuel any boilerplate rom-com made by Anne Fletcher or Nancy Meyers. The dilemma of marrying for love or money has been a constant in film and literature. And reading the preceding paragraph, you can probably figure out where everyone ends up by the end of the story. The film doesn’t shy away from being what it is, but is rather a sterling example of it. It’s rich and thoughtful, respects its characters, and doesn’t resort to melodrama or manipulation. Song’s too good to take the easy route.

Much as she did with Past Lives, the writer-director is interested in characters with competing internal makeups. She doesn’t judge or caricature, but rather allows them to speak candidly about what they want and why. In a lesser film, Lucy would be shrewish and misguided for valuing money and comfort over love. In most films, Pascal’s rich love interest would be charming and perfect until his fatal, ugly flaw was revealed. But Song refuses to make this a story about good guys and bad guys; she’s aware that people are driven by insecurity, fear, lifestyle wants and a need to be valued. Does love matter? Of course – and while the film is romantic and charming, it also never goes for the moment where someone’s stance is changed because of a misunderstanding or big emotional gesture. The characters do the internal work. A filmmaker with a background in theater, Song crafts beautifully written, verbose conversations where the characters talk about their motivations – when they discuss the importance of material assets or the need to feel valuable or powerful, it’s honest and smart.

We understand what Harry and Lucy see in each other and why their relationship fits with what they want from life, and Pascal and Johnson have enough chemistry to suggest that maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world if they end up together. But there’s also emotion and mileage in John and Lucy’s complicated past, and why without internal calibrations on both their parts, it could be just as toxic a relationship as it is romantic. John is in love with Lucy; he also makes bad decisions and can’t seem to get to the place of stability that Lucy desires. For her part, Lucy’s a catch – but she’s also selfish and can be mean. Song allows these characters to speak to instead of at each other and doesn’t resort to cheap shots, sudden reveals or plot manipulations to sway audience interest. In every moment, we understand why the characters feel the way they do, and the same emotional maturity that Song brought to Past Lives is present here.

Johnson is an actress that I run hot and cold on, but she’s really good as Lucy, who sees every relationship as a math formula or business proposal, which, of course, is also a bit of emotional armor. She’s calculating, but not cruel or shallow – she’s realistic, aware of her own “credits and debits” on the dating market, and her strong line of non-negotiables. Likewise, Evans seems to have two modes – Captain America and douchebag. Song gets him to modulate both energies here – John’s love for Lucy is pure, but he’s also got a lot of growing up to do – and the result is one of his best performances. Pascal simply has to be charming and handsome, and it’s probably no surprise to say that he does that well – but because we’re so primed by this genre’s conventions to distrust the good-looking rich guy, maybe his best skill is that Harry is always likable; it’s not a heel role.

Song’s greatest strength is as a writer, and Materialists seems like it’s attempting to deliver the year’s best scene every five minutes. It’s pure pleasure to watch these actors chew on this dialogue, and it’s perceptive and insightful, even in places where it could read as vapid and shallow. When Lucy tells Harry what makes him such an asset on the dating market and he spits back that she’s selling herself short, it could be uncomfortably shallow; but the moment actually is deeply romantic, with Song’s script showing the insecurities in Lucy’s own life and letting Harry meet those needs. A scene late in the film between the two in Harry’s kitchen sheds light on Harry’s own vulnerabilities, and it’s the rare confrontation scene in a Hollywood romance that is kind and delicate. It’s the best scene in the movie – until about 10 minutes later, when Lucy and John take some time to discuss their own past and future, and what we believe will be the romantic climax becomes a case of sorting through their own personal baggage. Even a moment I briefly worried was going to take the movie into the directions I’d hoped it would avoid – a confrontation between Lucy and a client after a date gone wrong – becomes not a chance for the movie to manipulate the audience but instead the catalyst that allows Lucy to do her own soul-searching and sets the stage for her growth (it’s also worth noting that Zoe Winters, as Lucy’s client, has a reaction shot in this scene that might be the best piece of acting in the entire film).

Materialists is smart and thoughtful, but Song also understands that, in the end, a romance has to be romantic. It’s funny and emotional, and it arrives at the crowd-pleasing conclusion in a way that pleased this critic as much as I’m sure it will audiences. It’s another great film from Song, and I can’t wait to see what she does next.