— By Reneeka Chatterjee
Disclaimer: Spoilers ahead
In a world where compatibility is curated through dating apps and status symbols, Celine Song’s ‘Materialists’ asks a bold question. What is love worth — and who decides?
After watching ‘Materialists’ recently, I found myself reflecting on it — and I would like to share my thoughts here. ‘Materialists’, directed by Celine Song, is a clever, adult take on romance — smart, emotionally rich, and unabashedly realistic. It spotlights how dating in the modern world is often filtered through systems, transactions, and societal pressures.
Plot Overview
Lucy (played by Dakota Johnson), a successful matchmaker at New York City-based firm Adore, has facilitated nine marriages. Though she is celibate by choice, Lucy insists she will only marry a wealthy man. Lucy runs a matchmaking agency where clients are ranked by metrics: income, education, appearance. Therefore, Lucy treats romantic compatibility like an algorithm: height, income, hobbies — all are “assets”. She sees love as a kind of financial transaction.
At a client’s wedding, she is courted by financier Harry Castillo but also runs into her ex, struggling actor John, with whom she shares a complicated past. She is torn between John (played by Chris Evans), her emotionally mature but financially unstable ex, and Harry (played by Pedro Pascal), who checks all her material boxes.
Harry pursues Lucy sincerely, and their romance boosts her confidence and career. Harry fits her idea of a “perfect investment”: handsome, rich, stable — a “sure thing”. Lucy chooses Harry, seemingly reinforcing her materialistic values — but this soon becomes a point of internal conflict.
She successfully matches long-time client Sophie with Mark — until Sophie accuses Mark of sexual assault and sues Adore. Lucy’s boss tells her to avoid involvement, but Lucy apologises to Sophie, who ends their friendship.
Planning an Iceland trip with Harry, Lucy discovers an engagement ring but realises she does not love him. She acknowledges that marriage may resemble a business deal, but insists that love must also be part of the equation. Thus, she breaks off their relationship and moves in with John. The two reconnect, but Lucy remains unsure about their future, torn between love and her ambition.
When Sophie calls Lucy in distress after being stalked by Mark, Lucy and John rush to help her. They secure Sophie’s safety, and Lucy rebuilds their friendship. John pleads for another chance, vowing to support Lucy better this time. Lucy agrees. With John, there is emotional depth, spontaneity — and risk.
Later, Sophie finds love again, Harry becomes an Adore client, and Lucy is offered a promotion. She hesitates, considering a resignation instead. Ultimately, in Central Park, John proposes, and Lucy accepts. The story ends with glimpses of various couples, including Lucy and John, getting marriage licenses — proof of love earned, not arranged.
‘Materialists’ is intellectually sharp, socially aware, and emotionally honest. It confronts how we evaluate partners through a transactional lens — income, looks, status — yet daringly suggests that true connection lies beyond spreadsheets and checklists.
Without denying material realities, the film argues for the richness of uncertainty, vulnerability, and real emotional intimacy.
Lucy and Harry dance at a wedding
Evolution of Lucy’s Views on Love and Marriage
Lucy’s views on love and marriage evolve significantly over the course of the story. At the beginning, she is firmly convinced that financial security should be the foundation of any romantic relationship. Voluntarily celibate, she openly admits she will only consider marriage if the man is extremely wealthy.
Her past with John — a relationship that faltered due to monetary troubles — reinforces her belief that love without financial stability is not enough. However, as the story unfolds, Lucy begins to question the “value” she places on wealth over genuine emotional connection.
Harry, a wealthy and respectful suitor, seems to tick all her material boxes, yet when faced with the possibility of a future with him, Lucy realises she does not truly love him. Her job and her relationship with Harry both revolve around valuation, not connection. This marks a turning point — she chooses honesty over comfort, breaking off the engagement despite the financial security it offers.
Her reconnection with John — grounded in emotional honesty and shared struggle — helps her realise that love rooted in mutual understanding and effort can be more fulfilling than a relationship driven by financial stability and empty promises. By the end, Lucy acknowledges that her earlier pursuit of wealth had blinded her to real affection.
She chooses John not for his potential earnings but for the depth of their emotional bond and shared history. Her acceptance of his proposal reflects this transformation — Lucy now values love that is imperfect but sincere over comfort that is hollow or materialistic.
John confronts Lucy — unsure if he is too late or just in time
But Lucy’s personal transformation does not exist in a vacuum. Her story also reflects broader cultural anxieties around intimacy, status, and modern love, which require deeper examination.
Unpacking Lucy’s Journey Through Wider Lenses
In this section of the essay, I examine Lucy’s journey through five key lenses, aiming to highlight not only her personal development but also the broader tensions that characterise contemporary relationships and dating dynamics.
Commodification of Intimacy
‘Materialists’ critiques the notion that compatibility can be bought or brokered, revealing the emotional blind spots in commodified matchmaking. Celine Song uses this analogy to challenge the cultural logic of relationships-as-assets.
Lucy’s career as a professional matchmaker at Adore reflects how modern dating often turns intimacy into a transactional service. Love becomes something that can be curated, sold, and strategically matched — much like a product in the market.
Initially, Lucy herself views relationships through this lens: she would not settle for anything less than a wealthy partner, effectively “pricing” herself in the romantic marketplace. But over time, she confronts the limitations of this model. When Sophie’s match turns abusive despite being “ideal on paper”, Lucy realises that reducing intimacy to checkboxes and credentials can have serious emotional consequences.
Emotional Risk
True intimacy requires vulnerability. Lucy learns that protecting herself from emotional pain also blocks her from finding real love and rediscovering her own emotional needs.
Lucy’s reluctance to love again stems from past heartbreak and financial insecurity. Pursuing Harry seems ‘safe’ — he offers financial stability, status, and admiration. John, on the other hand, represents vulnerability: a man with uncertain prospects but an honest emotional connection.
Ultimately, by ending things with Harry and taking a second chance on John, Lucy chooses emotional risk over material certainty.
Lucy meets John after the wedding
Class, Status, and Self-worth
‘Materialists’ underscores how class anxiety can distort romantic choices, but also how self-worth grows when we detach love from socio-economic hierarchy. Lucy suffers from internalised class anxieties and ends up seeking external validation.
Lucy’s insistence on marrying a wealthy partner is not just about greed; it reflects her internalised beliefs about socio-economic class and self-worth. She grew up working-class, and Harry’s wealth offers a “way out”. Having failed as an actor, she measures success through proximity to wealth and status. Her early choices are shaped by the belief that her value depends on aligning with someone wealthier.
However, by the end, she reclaims her “worth” through agency — rejecting Harry’s material assets, and choosing her own path with John, who is more emotionally compatible and honest. Lucy realises that wealth is not enough — she wants the respect that society often withholds from women who have failed publicly. John, though broke, offers something rarer: the dignity of being “emotionally seen”.
Redefining Modern Romance and Dating Dynamics
Romance evolves from idealism to realism — grounded not in fantasy, but in effort, empathy, and emotional resilience.
Lucy’s journey redefines what romance means to her. At first, it is transactional — pragmatic and calculated. But the chaos of real connection, including heartbreak, reconciliation, and personal growth, reshapes her understanding of real romance.
Lucy eventually realises that romance is not always orderly or impressive. Oftentimes, real love is messy, inconvenient, and grounded in emotional truth.
Affluence vs. Affection
The ‘heart’ represents affection while the ‘head’ represents affluence. Lucy’s story depicts that the heart wins, but not in a naïve, fairy-tale way. It wins through personal growth, courage, and emotional maturity.
Lucy begins in her head — calculating, protecting, and carefully strategising. Her ‘head’ tells her Harry is the right choice. But her ‘heart’ pulls her toward John, who is emotionally compatible.
Ultimately, it is not just a choice between two men, but two conflicting worldviews: safety vs. sincerity, comfort vs. connection. Lucy chooses love — uncertain and imperfect, but authentic and sincere.
Lucy and Harry go on a date at a fancy restaurant
Conclusion: Love vs. Money? Love Wins.
Love — led by the heart, tempered by the head — should ultimately win.
In a world where dating apps and economic pressures have commodified romance, it is tempting to let logic, class, or status guide romantic choices. But real, lasting emotional connection thrives in honesty and shared values, not just mutual convenience or material possessions.
That said, it is not about overlooking money or logic — it is about ensuring they do not drown out the emotional truth. The healthiest modern relationships strike a balance: emotionally fulfilling as well as practically sustainable.
In Lucy’s story, love wins — but only after she learns to see herself clearly, risks vulnerability, and detaches self-worth from wealth. Lucy’s journey shows that love cannot be measured by wealth or status alone.
While practical concerns such as financial stability are important, they should not overshadow genuine emotional connection or mutual understanding. True romance emanates from honesty, vulnerability, and choosing to take emotional risks.
Falling in love is always easy and effortless. Dating, however, can be a far more complicated — and often calculated — process. In modern relationships, striking a balance between head and heart is key — but it is the heart, with all its imperfections and courage, that should guide us towards building and navigating lasting and meaningful relationships.
