Words serve as actions, a truth evident in pivotal moments like wedding vows or job terminations. For nearly a century, cinema has employed dialogue, yet many directors often find it easier to capture physical action than the nuances of conversation. Typically, the actors bear the burden of delivering the dialogue, relegating cinematic language to visual interpretations of theatrical performances. This pattern gives rise to the unique storytelling style seen in Celine Song’s latest film, “Materialists,” which marks a significant advancement from her debut, “Past Lives.” While both films are rich in dialogue, “Materialists” distinguishes itself by infusing the screenplay with a captivating cinematic identity.
The narrative structure of “Materialists” parallels that of “Past Lives.” It revolves around a woman embroiled in a romantic entanglement that becomes complicated with the return of a former lover. Starring Dakota Johnson as Lucy Mason, a Manhattan matchmaker, the film introduces audiences to a world where professional matchmaking intricately intertwines with personal relationships. At a client’s wedding, Lucy meets Harry Castillo, portrayed by Pedro Pascal, a wealthy entrepreneur who quickly becomes a romantic interest. Complications arise when Lucy encounters her ex-boyfriend, John Pitts, played by Chris Evans, who works as a cater waiter at the event. As Lucy navigates the landscape of love and companionship, she grapples with vulnerabilities and personal crises that add complexity to her relationships.
One of the standout features of “Materialists” is its exploration of business intertwined with romance. With prior experience as a matchmaker, Song injects authenticity into Lucy’s character. The film adeptly portrays Lucy’s career, showcasing her candid conversations about love and matchmaking. It’s a well-crafted narrative that plunges into the psychological depths of its characters while maintaining a light-hearted tone. Lucy’s interactions with wedding guests and her burgeoning romance with Harry are embodied through snappy dialogue, creating a dynamic relationship where words are charged with flirtation and chemistry.
Lucy’s background as an actress plays a pivotal role in shaping her success as a matchmaker. Her ability to read people and improvise conversations reveals her dual nature—professionally savvy yet emotionally complex. This duality leaves audiences questioning the authenticity of her feelings as she makes a romantic connection with Harry. This captivating tension drives the narrative forward, creating a sense of intrigue surrounding Lucy’s true self and whether she fully believes in her own matchmaking ethos.
The philosophical implications of Lucy’s profession shine through in her dialogue, which cleverly turns the abstract notion of romance into concrete business concepts. Drawing from Stendhal’s insights on fortune and philosophy, Lucy illustrates the idea that a thorough understanding of the game of love is essential for successful matchmaking. This aspect of her character draws Harry in, as he is captivated not just by her physical presence but by her intellectual and emotional depth.
This intriguing interplay between text, image, and performance elevates “Materialists.” The film’s cinematography captures moments of verbal sparring between characters, akin to acrobats engaged in a dance of wit and flirtation. Song’s direction creates a palpable tension, infusing classic screwball comedy aesthetics with modern storytelling. The film expertly employs stillness in key moments, allowing the dialogue to resonate much like an operatic performance, where words are underscored by an orchestra of visual storytelling.
However, the film does not remain on this high note throughout. A sudden pivot occurs when a subplot involving a client’s sexual assault emerges, changing the tone and trajectory of the film. This jarring shift diverts attention from the more intricate emotional dynamics that formed the foundation of earlier scenes. The introduction of this subplot feels heavy-handed and disrupts the flow, shifting from character development to a more conventional narrative mechanism.
Through these lurching transitions, the exploration of characters and their emotional landscapes takes a backseat. Lucy and Harry, while seemingly spending considerable time together, do not truly connect on a deeper level. Key character insights or explorations of personal interests are bypassed, leaving their relationship feeling superficial. This absence of intimate discussions about life, love, and aspirations creates a disconnect.
Moreover, in a film that centers on relationship dynamics, the treatment of sexuality is notably restrained; the moments of intimacy virtually gloss over the complexities of physical attraction. While many romantic films imply an exploration of sexual tension, “Materialists” opts for a more sanitized depiction, further emphasizing the lack of emotional depth intertwined with physical intimacy.
In essence, these omissions reveal a recurring pattern in Song’s work. Similar to her earlier film, “Past Lives,” “Materialists” grapples with external scenarios that overshadow the internal journeys of its characters. In “Materialists,” however, the initial vibrancy of the dialogue and cinematic artistry propels it to exhilarating heights—if only for half the movie. While the first half connects powerfully with modern cinematic narratives, the latter half succumbs to the pitfalls of narrative convenience, losing the vitality that once drove it forward.
In conclusion, “Materialists” endeavors to merge the worlds of love and business, weaving a rich tapestry of romantic interactions supported by an authentic depiction of matchmaking. The dialogue captures the wit and complexity of human relationships, while the cinematography elevates these exchanges into art. However, as the plot shifts and deeper explorations of character are cast aside, the film loses its footing. Despite the thrilling start, “Materialists” ultimately reflects the business of romance—both charming and confounding, yet yearning for the heartfelt complexities that truly define love.
Source link