By Jason Osiason

There is a quiet ache running through Materialists, a kind of emotional restraint that does not announce itself but settles in and stays. It is about how we try to control love, study each other, and perform connection. So unglamorous and precise, the emotion just slips in and stays.

There is one pivotal moment that does not land, a scene that feels oddly disconnected from the emotional rhythm the film so carefully builds. But I was so taken with how grounded and beautiful and quietly sharp the rest of it is that I did not care. The coke and beer moment hit me like a rush. That is what true love feels like. Not the fantasy or the storybook version, but something raw and quiet and real. It made me feel something I did not expect to feel.

Dakota Johnson plays Lucy, a sharp, reserved woman who works for a high end matchmaking firm, helping elite clients find compatible love through research, spreadsheets, and emotional observation. She is not a romantic, at least not on the surface. She is composed, tasteful, watchful. But underneath all of that is someone deeply affected by desire, by power, by the subtle humiliations and quiet imbalances that come with trying to be chosen.

Her performance is what stayed with me most. It is so subdued you almost miss how much she is revealing. There is no big emotional scene, no speech, no unraveling. Just control, gently slipping. Longing, trying to stay hidden. It is the best Dakota has ever been. Soft, clear, and completely human.

Chris Evans plays Chase, the wealthy tech guy Lucy falls into something with. He is charming, sure. Polished. He says all the right things. But there is something about him that never feels entirely lived in. He is handsome in that distant, immaculate way, and when the film places him in Bushwick like he belongs there, it feels slightly off. And maybe that is intentional. Or maybe it is the one casting choice that unbalances the film just a little. I could not help but wonder what someone a little weirder or less perfect looking might have done with the part.

Still, Materialists is full of sharp commentary about how we present ourselves and how love is shaped by performance. It is not just about dating. It is about emotional labor. It is about the small ways people try to manage desire. It is also an incredibly smart film, quietly but confidently intelligent in the way it is written and directed. The film lets scenes breathe. The camera lingers. There is space for silence, space for discomfort, space for truth. It does not try to explain everything. It just leaves you sitting in it.

It is not perfect. That one scene still lingers in the wrong way. But even with that, the rest is so beautifully written, intelligently directed, and thoughtfully acted that it stays with you. Not in a loud or dramatic way, but in the quiet moments after, when you are walking home and suddenly remember something you were trying not to feel. [B]