Since time immemorial, love has been transactional. Powerful families married for kingdoms, middle-class households for dowries, and many for a better shot at survival. With her sophomore feature, Materialists, Celine Song suggests that love-as-currency is truer than ever in today’s hyper-capitalist world, where romance often feels more like a market exchange than an emotional state.

But rather than painting this as a stark binary, Song approaches the topic with patience and grace. Her film gently sifts through opposing viewpoints, uncovering the pain of pragmatism and the longing for real connection—and how they often coexist.

The film follows Lucy (Dakota Johnson), a professional matchmaker with nine successful couples to her name. Armed with an “eagle eye for chemistry,” she’s well-versed in the brutal calculus of modern romance: height surgeries, receding hairlines, capped salaries—everything is weighed. But at a client’s wedding, Lucy finds herself caught between two men: the wildly wealthy Harry (Pedro Pascal), and her ex, John (Chris Evans), a struggling actor and part-time waiter she never quite got over.

On its face, Materialists resembles a familiar romantic triangle—our heroine forced to choose between true love and financial security. But as in her luminous debut, Past Lives, Song transcends the genre’s clichés. The film’s deceptively classic setup—three impossibly gorgeous leads and an NYC backdrop—becomes a canvas for modern reflection. There are no airport chases or teary confrontations, just quiet, searching conversations that breathe.

By shedding the usual rom-com contrivances, Materialists reaches for something deeper: an existential meditation on how emotional and economic compromises shape our intimate lives. Do we choose partners who boost our social capital—or ones who reflect our inner selves? Are those mutually exclusive? Song lets these questions linger, never forcing answers, but trusting the audience to do the emotional math.

Visually, the film is stunning. Reuniting with cinematographer Shabier Kirchner, Song opts for warm, textured camerawork that emphasizes quiet moments—an intimate dinner, a pause on a stoop. While a Hollywood version might default to flat over-the-shoulder shots, Materialists favours patient, immersive framing. Combined with Daniel Pemberton’s airy score, the result is a sumptuous atmosphere that feels intimate yet expansive.

The cast brims with chemistry. Chris Evans brings a rugged tenderness to the role of John, effortlessly matching Johnson’s subtly affecting performance. But it’s Pascal who leaves the deepest impression, channeling Clark Gable charm with James Stewart sincerity. He plays Harry not as a cold caricature of wealth, but as a man slowly peeling back layers of insecurity and vulnerability.

If Materialists has a flaw, it’s that it occasionally veers into preachiness and wraps up a little too neatly. But even so, Song has created a smart, soulful anti-rom-com—an epic in miniature that proves love, for all the ways the world changes, remains as elusive and elemental as ever.

Materialists is in theatres June 13.