'Materialists' Review: Dakota Johnson May Finally Have Found Her Perfect Movie
Materialists could probably be considered a romantic comedy, except it's never altogether clear that writer-director Celine Song, best known for 2022's bittersweet Past Lives, is actually heading that way. You may wonder whether she isn't willing to risk ending the film with no one blissfully in love, with forever-after consigned to the dustbin. She makes Jane Austen look like a sentimental sap. This, despite the fact that Materialists has been constructed according to rom-com tradition (eligible woman—a matchmaker!— vs. two eligible men) and cast with Dakota Johnson, Pedro Pascal and Chris Evans, three actors with sex appeal and box-office value.
But Materialists isn't so much about finding Mr. Right as about steering clear of Mr. Wrong, which suggests a very rum rom-com. Even the title, with its hints of money and consumption, sounds cold and vaguely condemnatory, like a Marxist critique of And Just Like That....
I'm not saying this is a bad thing, not in the least. Materialists is a swipe-right experience — elusive but not inscrutable, as well as enjoyably, delicately playful.
That playfulness is established at the very outset by a whimsically odd fantasy scene. In what looks like a primitive world not much further evolved from the apes' society at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey, a rather sweet if shaggy young man comes to court a sweet if shaggy young woman outside her family's cave. These two will return at the end, bringing the film full circle.
Until then, you'll have been in the charming, somewhat tensile company of matchmaker Lucy (Johnson), a single career woman with an affluent clientele (the cave couple, apparently, didn't need Lucy's kind of assistance). She's good at her job, and grateful, given the failure of her early attempt at an acting career. So far she's led nine couples to the altar: The key is selling the notion of lifelong commitment (a partner, as she puts it, should ultimately be 'a grave buddy') while skillfully calculating the social, professional and fiduciary value of any prospective match.
Those calculations, needless to share, aren't shared with Lucy's clients, but processed in some amorphous zone between her head and her heart.Lucy isn't cynical, exactly. But, to borrow from Joni Mitchell, she's seen life from both sides now — and the hell with fairy-tale clouds and old boyfriends like John (Evans). Unlike Lucy, John remains an eternally struggling actor — he's 39 — who makes ends meet with catering gigs. He and Lucy meet, again, at a wedding reception, where she's dressed in diaphanous blue — the blue at the center of a candle flame — and he delivers a drink order to her table. He remembers that she likes a Coke with a beer. She, on the other hand, remembers that as a couple they were always running out of money, and always fighting because of it. Compared to those days, she's sitting pretty, and wants to sit more prettily still.
You don't dislike Lucy for preferring the comforts of affluence, partly because Johnson hits this particular note with a kind of triste regretfulness — she always looks as if she has no choice but to smile wanly, since the other option is probably sobbing. Perhaps just as importantly, though, Materialists appreciates that what could be called an lifestyle aspiration is its own, undeniable form of desire. It may not swell the spirits, and the cave couple, who make do with a flower for an engagement ring, might have thrown up if they knew how civilized people approached marriage. But anyone who's ever lived in Manhattan has gone through this luxury lust. It's been corrupting urban souls since, at least, William Makepeace Thackeray gave Chapter 36 of Vanity Fair the ironic title "How to Live Well on Nothing a Year."
And so, instead of rediscovering her love for John, Lucy drifts, rather casually, into an affair with the rich, dashing Harry (Pedro Pascal), who happens to be a perfect gentleman with a $15 million penthouse, good taste and an attractively dry, modest sense of humor. It's like dating a wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Pascal is really pretty wonderful here — and he overshadows Evans, who's handsome and likable, but stuck in a less sophisticated role. (If anything, Evans is the closest thing here to rom-com.) Pascal is like a more poetic Winklevoss twin. He might write quality fiction on the side — not too literary, but publishable.
And yet Lucy can always see that she's allowing herself to be wooed without ever being wowed. With Harry, life will be everything but wow.Then — finally — the movie blossoms into something like happiness. But you should discover that surprise for yourself.The shimmeringly lovely Johnson, who navigates Lucy's journey with unerring grace and tact, has long been an actress in search of — and deserving — the perfect vehicle. This may be it.Materialists is currently in theaters.
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Days later, over on Late Night with Seth Meyers, she once again opened with a line about her not wearing pants. The girl is committed to her bit! She brought her signature dry humor to a conversation about baseball, or rather, her lack of knowledge about it, while cheekily explaining the custom Mets jersey she wore to a game that read 'DJ 69.' It's not just limited to late night, either. In the early hours of the Today show with costar Chris Evans, he kept it safe, whereas she went for it. When asked by Craig Melvin what a nonnegotiable quality in a partner was, Evans said, 'Must love dogs.' But not Johnson. When prompted for her response, she calmly said, 'Not an asshole.' The host scrambled, asking producers to 'clean that up for the West Coast.' Johnson sat there, unbothered. Johnson's Hot Ones appearance was no different. She dressed in a rich toffee suede Khaite jacket that retails for nearly $6,000 and devoured increasingly spicy wings without flinching — all while dropping a perfectly timed dig at Madame Web. When host Sean Evans joked he wasn't a superhero after a particularly brutal wing, Johnson shot back, 'I'm also not a superhero. Tried. Failed.' And no, she didn't spill one drop of sauce on that jacket. Of course she didn't. If her commentary was performance art, her wardrobe was the visual storytelling. Take the sheer Nensi Dojaka dress she wore heading to Late Night with Seth Meyers. She wore the gauzy, body-skimming number just one day after news of her reported split from Chris Martin broke. Whether intentional or not, it screamed 'revenge dress' — and it worked. Johnson looked every bit the unaffected movie star: polished, elusive and aspirational. 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It oozed romance — fitting for a rom-dram, sure, but maybe also a wink at the end of a very public (and very quietly handled) breakup. As always, she let the look speak for itself. Everyone else did the talking. Johnson's alleged split from Martin, her partner on and off for eight years, could have been a tabloid distraction. But it never really got the oxygen it needed to dominate headlines. That wasn't by accident. The news broke as Johnson's press tour was kicking off, which is a time when personal questions are generally off-limits during any press appearances. It controls a narrative and was a strategically perfect moment to let the story land — and then disappear. Although her ex didn't exactly give her a helping hand. After reports surfaced of their breakup, the Coldplay frontman shouted out Johnson's film on stage at the band's Las Vegas concert. ('Thank you, everybody! Be kind to each other!' he told the crowd. 'Don't forget to go see Materialists!') It's giving text me back vibes while Johnson metaphorically has already changed her number. Rather than offer quotes or go quiet, Johnson did her job as she kept showing up, delivering sound bites and stealing the spotlight. She even made space for a little realness, or at least the appearance of it, when she mentioned her no 'assholes' rule on the Today show. The result? A breakup that barely registered amid a wave of headlines about her humor, her style and her undeniable charisma. And isn't that the most Dakota Johnson move of all, letting people talk about her without really saying a thing? In the end, Materialists might be a hotly debated rom-dram, but Johnson's press tour was its own kind of love story between a movie star and her audience. She made us laugh, made us want her closet and made us want to be her best friend. She wasn't just selling a movie. She was selling a feeling — and we bought it. We can't wait to see what she does next.