Matchmaking has been an unpaid cultural practice all over the world for millennia, but over time it has become a booming industry. More and more of my dating clients either inquire about my opinion about matchmaking or share that they have used a matchmaking service in the past. One client even had a matchmaker solicit her on LinkedIn with promises of her “perfect match.” This increased interest in an explosion of matchmaking is due in part to the popularity of shows like Million Dollar Matchmaker, Jewish Matchmaking, Indian Matchmaking, and Muslim Matchmaker. These shows highlight the culturally specific ways that matchmakers can help daters find long-lasting love and the benefits of trusting someone else with the process.
That’s why Celine Song’s new film, Materialists, has come out at such an interesting moment. As people consider their relationships with matchmakers and dating in general, the movie exposes the underbelly of the matchmaking industry. (Spoilers are ahead!) Materialists deftly uses matchmaking to show us just how much modern dating has become an inhumane and often unfair playground that benefits the rich.
Throughout the movie, we witness hopeful clients disclosing their unfiltered ageist, classist, racist, and fatphobic requests for partners, all while their matchmaker Lucy, played by Dakota Johnson, listens intently and empathetically. That is, until her career is upended by the revelation that one of her clients, Sophie, has been sexually assaulted by a man who Lucy matched her with—a man whose credentials all turned out to be lies.
While attending the wedding of one of her clients, Lucy explains to a potential love interest and brother of the groom, Harry (Pedro Pascal), that being a matchmaker is like being a mortician or insurance claim adjuster because of the job’s focus on stats like height, weight, race, and income. She reduces her matchmaking process down to “math” and even extends this to her own dating life. Harry, who courts Lucy aggressively, is tall, successful, and incredibly rich. Lucy discloses that she makes $80,000 and that he can do better than her. He responds that he has plenty of material assets and is more interested in her intangible assets.
Read More: 5 Matchmakers on What Materialists Gets Right and Wrong About the Job
The longing for romantic and financial security is ever present throughout the film, making it a tense watch at times. But, as I was leaving the theatre, I heard a group of women say that the movie was “so cute,” Taken at face value, the plot is pretty simple romance. Girl meets rich boy, but also reconnects with broke ex-boyfriend, John (Chris Evans), and through a series of events, girl decides that love is more important than money. But so much of the film mirrors the horrors of contemporary dating, from discussions of someone’s value in the dating market to explicitly stating what makes certain daters more desirable. For men, that means making over $100,000 (the more the better) and being at least six feet tall. For women, that means being young, thin, and beautiful. It seems that all parties want someone “fit,” and the clientele represented in the movie skews heavily white and heterosexual.
This depiction of outlandish dealbreakers, while often raw and horrifying, does not stray too far from the realities of the current dating cultural climate. Song, a former matchmaker herself, does an excellent job of showing the complexities of dating and being the one responsible for facilitating near impossible matches. Lucy is cold and exacting, debating her clients’ viability in mainstream or niche markets. This is the kind of calculation I see my clients doing as they try to determine their odds on various dating apps. It’s a process that can feel demoralizing unless you become desensitized to it over time.
All of this math, these stats, and the quest for the best value completely obviate the search for real love. In fact, for a movie about love, the term is used sparingly. Instead the viewer is privy to the myriad reasons why people partner instead of love: to make one’s sister jealous, to have or bear children, to make one’s parents happy. Lucy sells her service by talking about how people should be looking for a nursing home buddy, but that’s just the hook. Once her clients are on the hook and paying top dollar, they want a product worth their investment.
Materialists doesn’t have a traditional happy ending, though it does conclude with a wedding. Just because Lucy has chosen John, and all of the financial uncertainty that comes with that choice, perhaps Song wanted us to feel that she has not fully settled. As the couple awaits their turn at a bustling City Hall Wedding Bureau during the final credits, there’s an anxiety about whether they will make it. Lucy’s materialism is what drove the two apart before.
Throughout the movie, Lucy states that marriage is a business agreement, and it always has been. Are we to believe that she’s decided to make a bad business decision? We are also left hanging when it comes to whether or not Lucy will accept a promotion at the matchmaking agency or leave the industry completely. All of this ambivalence—of Lucy’s moral stance, her standards, her belief in love—is what viewers must contend with. And it’s similar to the position of everyone trying to find what they’re looking for in dating in this economy. Even in the best of business deals, the numbers don’t make sense.