As society falls apart around us, it seems like our media is obsessed with the weird world of the wealthy. From Death of a Unicorn to The White Lotus to Materialists, the new film from Past Lives director Celine Song, our stories are filled with tales of the haves interacting with the have-nots. 

Dakota Johnson stars as Lucy, a Manhattan matchmaker who looks at love like an investment portfolio. Her wealthy clients pay her to find them a partner who ticks all their boxes, and she spends most of her time cleverly convincing them to love what’s available. Yes, he might not be six feet tall, but he’s got an income over $500,000. Sure, she might not be under 30, but her BMI fits the criteria. It’s a numbers game for her, all about the math, and her formula gets results—nine marriages and counting.

She meets Harry (Pedro Pascal) at her client’s wedding. He’s tall, handsome, charming, and filthy rich, the kind of man the women in her office refer to as a unicorn. But he’s not interested in procuring her services; he’s got his eye on her. She’s baffled—on paper, they make no sense—but lets herself become infatuated with his lifestyle and all that he can provide for her. 

At the same time, she has a run-in with her former flame, John (Chris Evans), a struggling actor who works as a cater waiter and lives in a cramped apartment with obnoxious roommates. He’s broke—he mentions this in practically every conversation—but he really knows her and cares for her.

So here we are with the typical setup of a rich guy and a poor guy. Which one will Lucy choose?

In many ways, Materialists could feel like a very basic romcom, a cliche tale of choosing love over luxury, but it’s frequently saved from the trope wasteland by Song’s cynical screenplay. 

Characters that could easily feel one-note have more layers than we’d typically see in a romance. Zoe Winters as Sophie, one of Lucy’s clients, is a particular standout, carrying more of the emotional weight than the leads with some fantastic line delivery and heartbreaking moments. 

Several scenes of clients describing their ideal mate bring a biting indictment of the modern dating scene where everything is commodified. In this volatile marketplace, everything is an investment. What can you do to add market value to yourself, to sell your appearance or personality as assets so that someone might actually be willing to buy? 

Men want fit women under 29, though 27 is an upper limit for most. Women want men with six-figure incomes over six feet tall—no love for the short kings here. Several clients have strict racial specifications that set off red flags. Several would be better served by a therapist than a matchmaker. Everyone lists out their preferences and expects their matchmaker to go on a scavenger hunt for someone who is 100% of everything they want, forgoing chemistry, connection, and the actual spark that makes a good relationship.

This is not a new concept in film, though it’s not often presented this pragmatically. It’s not exactly a scathing takedown of dating, but it certainly confronts us with the grim reality of trying to find romance in an era when an entire person is reduced to a pic and a few lines on a dating app or a highly curated social media presence. 

The film successfully balances the cliches of this genre with more mature and elevated characterizations, though it does occasionally fall victim to convenience with characters making decisions that don’t feel entirely motivated. It’s difficult to conclude a romcom in a way that doesn’t feel entirely predictable and there are a few times when characters experience a personality shift that alters the tone in a way that doesn’t quick click, something that would probably feel a lot more clunky without such a talented cast. 

As someone who is not a fan of romcoms or romances, I enjoyed Materialists more than I was expecting to. It’s a far cry from Song’s Past Lives, but the dynamic cast and snappy screenplay keep it engaging through its more clichéd moments.