25 Thoughts While Watching Materialists
Alternatively, 25 Letterboxd Reviews for the same movie.
That '90s rom-com narration hits like a warm hug. Are we in 2025 or 1995? I’m here for this throwback vibe.
Is Dakota Johnson portraying Lucy, the matchmaker? She exudes a confident chaos, yet I suspect a simmering storm lurks beneath her calm exterior.
Chris Evans as John, the struggling actor, is too perfect. Is this meta-casting? He’s Captain America playing a nobody, and I’m cackling.
Enter Pedro Pascal as Usher, the billionaire. Smooth as silk, but I’m side-eyeing that name. Usher? Celine?.
Lucy’s matchmaking office resembles a blend of a tech startup and a romantic comedy set. Is that an AI algorithm picking soulmates? So 2025.
John crashes into Lucy’s life like a puppy who misses its owner. Their banter is dynamic—am I already rooting for them?
Usher wooing Lucy with rooftop dinners and city lights. This is gorgeous, but girl, is this love or a luxury ad?
Lucy’s swiping on a dating app while being a matchmaker? The irony is palpable. Relatable, though.
Imagine a montage of Usher's extravagant dates! There's champagne, yachts, and everything in between. But Lucy’s eyes keep drifting. She’s thinking about John, isn’t she?
John secures a role in a play—could that be Celine Song’s actual 2016 play featured on the poster? Sneaky, sneaky.
Usher and John meet at the theater, and it’s like a peacock showdown. Pedro's charm contrasts with Chris's sincerity. I need popcorn for this.
The exchange of passive-aggressive zingers is captivating. There are no fists involved, just subtle gestures. This is how A24 does a love triangle—subtle and savage.
Lucy is unraveling, gazing into mirrors as if she's questioning her entire existence. Those reflections are screaming, “Who are you?”
Lucy observes a client's wedding scene, as if scrutinizing her own heart. Is she jealous or just lost?.
John’s play is a hit, and although Lucy feels proud, she also feels wistful. Did she give up acting too soon? The play hits harder than I expected.
Usher’s got a quirky side—collecting vintage typewriters? Okay, billionaire, you’re weird, but I’m intrigued.
Lucy’s breakdown in a karaoke bar, belting out a '90s ballad, is unhinged and iconic. Dakota’s selling it like her life depends on it.
The city shots are stunning—New York’s glittering like a materialist’s dream. But is this beauty masking Lucy’s loneliness?
John admits his love for Lucy, causing my heart to flutter. But is it love or nostalgia talking?
Usher’s offering Lucy the world, but his eyes are distant. Is he truly familiar with her, or merely with the concept of her?
Lucy realizes that neither of the two guys is the answer. It’s about her worth, not their wallets or charm. Preach, Celine!
The final party scene is chaos—everyone’s there, and Lucy’s dodging both men like she’s in a rom-com obstacle course.
The ending is ambiguous! Did Lucy choose herself, John, or Usher? I’m torn between “deep” and “give me answers, Song!”
The credits roll, and I’m mulling over the title. Materialists, it's not just about money; it's about the value we place on love.
Celine Song’s done it again. This isn’t your grandma’s rom-com; it’s a messy, beautiful mirror to modern dating. I’m shook.





This feels like a modern dating mirror. It looks familiar but cuts much deeper.
Here's the TL;DR version of this:
• The film disguises critique as nostalgia.
• Self-worth is the true choice, not romance.
• Dating apps commodify intimacy subtly.
• Irony drives the character dynamics.
• The ending resists easy moral closure.