'Materialists' was not what I expected.
It's been marketed like a rom-com - but honestly? If you're heading in expecting laughs, you'll be disappointed. What you get instead is a sharp, quietly melancholic study on modern love, dating, and loneliness in the big city. It's not so much about romance as it is about emotional bankruptcy - the way ambition, money, and appearances slowly chip away at real connection.
The story follows Lucy, a matchmaker who views relationships like transactions, caught between two opposites: Harry, rich and polished, and John, her sweet but struggling ex. But the real tension isn't between them - it's in her. What does she actually want? Love, comfort, validation? Or just a life that looks good on paper?
Celine Song's style is unmistakable - lingering shots, dialogue that feels like internal monologue, and a quiet ache humming underneath it all. At times, it almost felt like watching a late-era Woody Allen film - not in tone, but in that subtle, creeping sense of urban melancholy. By the end, I didn't feel uplifted. I felt... thoughtful. A bit heavy, even.
This is a film about the emotional numbness that sneaks in when we live our lives through filters - digital and otherwise. About the loneliness hiding behind perfect apartments and curated dating profiles. And how love (or at least the idea of it) gets commodified without us even noticing.
Not a rom-com. Not really even a romance. More of a character study. A mood piece. A quiet critique. And once I let go of what I thought it was meant to be, I found I really liked it, and I hope you do too.
