Definitely not a Rom-Com. (And that's a good thing.) - Some false advertising with this one. There's romance, yes. There are a few laughs, yes. This, however, is not a romantic comedy. What it is is a two-hour philosophical journey on the themes of self-worth, value, and materialism through the lens of three very flawed characters. As a cynic, I appreciated that. With such beautiful principal actors it would be very easy to gin up a 90's or 00's type of rom-com, but this was exceedingly more thoughtful and interesting. If I have any complaint at all, it's the ending, which (IMHO) did not fit with the overall theme of the story and a little forced. But still, very good. 9/10 stars.

Celine Song's Materialists is a stunningly mature, emotionally intelligent romantic drama, one that redefines the very concept of modern love without falling into the usual pitfalls of the genre. Anchored by three outstanding performances, Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, and Pedro Pascal share extraordinary chemistry that feels raw, layered, and heartbreakingly authentic. Song's screenplay dissects with surgical precision the transactional nature of today's dating world, where intangible values like affection and vulnerability often struggle against the ever-growing checklist of material, social, and political boxes. Money, body image, height, political leanings - even something as seemingly trivial as the texture of one's hair - are thoughtfully explored as factors that, in theory, should dictate compatibility. But through intimate silences, aching glances, and conversations that pierce right through the soul, Song reminds us that love, in all its flawed, inexplicable glory, cannot be quantified. Technically, Materialists is a masterclass in restraint. There's barely a musical score to be found, allowing every silence, every breath, and every hesitant word to carry the full weight of the characters' feelings. The cinematography makes the bold, unconventional choice to focus on the listener rather than the speaker, granting the audience rare insight into the unsaid, the reactions that words alone can't convey. Lingering shots in moments of silence exude not only tension but a rare, electric chemistry between the characters. The film crafts its emotional crescendo without a single moment of forced dramatization, making the eventual choices of Johnson's character feel entirely organic. Song bravely avoids providing easy answers: there's no judgment, no clear winner in the love triangle. Whether one follows love with all its imperfections, as in the Dakota-Evans connection, or chooses the materially perfect partner lacking in emotional spark, as represented by Pascal's character, Materialists argues that either path is valid - and equally human. If there's one area where Song perhaps leans too heavily, it's in the recurring client interviews of Johnson's character, which, while often sharp and humorous, begin to border on repetitive. The thematic point about society's shallow dating expectations lands early on, and a couple of these scenes feel like they're spelling out what the rest of the movie has already conveyed so gracefully. But this minor excess does little to detract from the overall impact. Materialists stands as one of the finest romantic dramas in recent memory, brilliantly avoiding the traps of cliché and formula. It's a profoundly insightful exploration of why we fall in love, and how that choice - no matter how irrational, imperfect, or impractical - might be the truest thing about us. Rating: A-

What is going on with Hollywood? Hollywood HDR is a fudging cancer. It means "destroy the image completely, turn off all the lights, and present the audience with moving shadows." Yet another movie that cannot be watched, because it's so insanely dark. Zero stars. Not a movie.

Given that so much of modern-day dating goes on online between people who have never met, nor ever intend to meet, the person they are courting, I had hoped this would deliver a more brutal critique of an industry that is predicated on shallowness, fickleness and downright lying, but it just didn’t do it for me. “Lucy” (Dakota Johnson) is the $80,000-a-year matchmaker whose job it is is to dress in over-sixes suits and to tick and reconcile as many boxes from each of her clients as she can then hope that when they do actually sit down in front of each other, they don’t take their fork to their own, or their date’s, eyes! She’s quite successful, indeed it is at the weeding for her ninth couple, that she tries to drum up business from those singles and divorcées impressed by her skills. She’s overheard by the brother of the groom (Pedro Pascal) who elicits from her that all she actually wants for herself is a man who has more money than God. He qualifies, but reckons she isn’t so venal and so embarks on a courtship ritual that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Jane Austin meets Julia Child story. Meantime, “Sophie” (Zoe Withers) is one of her clients who has a shocking experience and that proves unsettling for the hitherto uber-confident “Lucy” who might actually start to look at herself in the mirror and perhaps, just perhaps, not like what she sees. As if that wedding wasn’t momentous enough for the gal, she also runs onto her ex (Chris Evans) who’s a budding actor, a cater-waiter, and clearly still burns a candle for her. He hasn’t two pennies to rub together though, so what chance he can ever engage with her again? Whom will she choose? Whom (if anyone) will want to choose her? Why should we care? I’m afraid that I just didn’t. There are occasional moments of humour here, but for the most part it’s a rather toothless attempt to analyse the vacuousness of a business that could have been satirically analysed far more effectively if we hadn’t just been subsumed into an uninteresting melodrama with loads of foie gras, fine wine and a fairly torturous effort to add six inches… Pascal is classy and does enough and Evans can always get away with the boy-next-door look, but it all just reminded me of a soap. There’s far too much dialogue and nowhere near enough substance, and what looked promising at the start just fizzled into blandness fairly swiftly. Why is it that when people are fabulously wealthy, they buy such uncomfortable looking couches and never seem to have a television?