Sealed with a kiss? How about a handshake instead. That’s how Lucy (Dakota Johnson) prefers to do business when it comes to matters of the heart, whether breaking up or making up.
As a professional matchmaker, she approaches every potential connection as a deal to be made – people as balance sheets to be weighed, equations to be solved. If only the math were as simple as she believes it is.
Celine Song’s sophomore feature, Materialists draws on the writer/director’s own experience as a matchmaker, so this romance about the art of the deal when it comes to love is grounded in details that could only come from witnessing the trade firsthand: the outsize expectations, specific requirements, small disappointments, and big crises that come from trying to put one and one together to make two.
Lucy is a bride whisperer and the keeper of her clients’ confidence. They don’t have to believe they’ll marry the loves of their lives because she believes it for them.
She’s cool and impenetrable, ready with the right words, or a mysterious Mona Lisa smile (Johnson’s enigmatic nature as a performer is perfect for the role). But what about her own love life? She flippantly declares that she’s only going to marry rich.
Enter Harry (Pedro Pascal), the debonair brother-in-law of one of her clients, whom she encounters at their wedding. He’s a unicorn: wealthy, handsome, a full head of hair, and most importantly, tall (according to the lists of requirements rattled off by Lucy’s clients). Lucy tries to recruit him for work, but he only has eyes for her. She hesitates.
Enter John (Chris Evans), a hunky cater waiter who delivers her preferred drink before she can order it. They’re too familiar, he’s too charming, and there are too many memories in his old car. He’s Lucy’s past and the source of her romantic hangups. Soon, a love triangle is afoot, and Lucy is much better at algebra than she is at geometry.
Materialists is a romance of the they don’t make them like this anymore ilk, with smart, witty dialogue and relatable yet aspirational characters.
It is also decidedly a film from the writer/director of Past Lives, another thoughtful film about a love triangle and the way that our pasts haunt our futures.
Once again, at the centre, is a woman weighing one man against the other. The difference between Lucy and Nora, of Past Lives, is that Lucy, in her chosen profession, has let her head take the lead over her heart. It seems easier that way.
Song has created another beautiful, richly rendered New York City for her characters to inhabit. Shabier Kirchner’s cinematography is warm and lush, contrasting the luxe, glowing interiors of Harry’s multimillion-dollar apartment (Lucy only has eyes for his place during their first hookup), with John’s chaotic hovel, captured with dim natural light and a harried handheld camera.
The costume design by Katina Danabassis is also highly specific and communicates much about our characters. Lucy’s fashion mimics her emotional journey from poised and put-together professional to a more relaxed and romantic version of herself, as her walls finally crumble.
The crack in her facade that reveals the shoddy construction of her belief system comes not from the men in her life, but from a crisis with a client.
With her tendency to reduce people to arithmetic, Lucy has overlooked that these are still people after all. Lists of superficial traits can’t account for quality of character. A single daisy can be worth more than a bouquet of peonies when offered by the right person.
Song’s script is note-perfect moment to moment, the dialogue delivered earnestly and with deep feeling by the cast. But on a structural level, there are a few transitions where Song pushes the dramatic stakes, and the strain shows in a film that otherwise feels so real.
These narrative wobbles, coupled with a curious, somewhat silly choice for a bookend are the imperfections on the surface of Materialists.
But such is the power of Song’s ability to craft such an absorbing, transporting love story that these flaws are easy to forgive and forget. As Lucy discovers, love isn’t a problem that can be perfectly solved. Sometimes, it’s the wrong numbers that manage to add up. – By KATIE WALSH/Tribune News Service
Summary:
Another thoughtful film about a love triangle and the way that our pasts haunt our futures.
