No, Celine Song's ‘Materialists’ Isn’t “Broke Boy Propaganda”

Earlier this summer, Materialists was hotly anticipated. With internet darlings Dakota Johnson and Pedro Pascal, as well as Captain America himself, Chris Evans, what was marketed mostly as a romantic comedy held wide appeal. For film enthusiasts, director Celine Song lends buzz to any project after her debut feature film, Past Lives, charmed Sundance and received multiple nominations at both the Golden Globes and the Academy Awards. When audiences found Materialists challenged genre and perspective similarly to Past Lives, social media established a culture of vocal, dismissive viewers.

With Materialists landing on streaming, discourse about the films’ message has reignited online. The discourse—that Lucy (Johnson) is just settling for John (Evans) and in doing so is somehow condoning women getting less than they deserve—has even made its way to Song. The discussion with Refinery 29 begins when Song is presented with a light-hearted review from film-centered social platform Letterboxd that at the time had accumulated over 11 thousand likes—“broke man propaganda?? In THIS economy? I don’t think so.”

Director Celine Song Finds “Broke Boy Propaganda” Conceptually Cruel

Song confesses that she doesn’t find that take funny at all:

“I find it very cruel to talk about John as a character who loves Lucy […] And to talk about him in such cruel terms as, “broke boy” or “broke man.” I think that there is something about that – the classism of that, the kind of like, hatred of poverty, hatred of poor people […] I think that that is a very troubling result of the way that wealthy people have gotten into our hearts. […] to think about my movie in such classist terms – even the whole movie is about fighting the way that capitalism is trying to colonize our hearts and colonize love.”

Song finds the treatment of John “brutal” and thinks the criticism blames him for poverty. She goes on to say, “wealth is the great drug of our time,” and that the film deals with this directly. Still, many insist the film doesn’t reflect themes of poverty, classism, or the commodification of romance, at least not to an extent to justify Song’s comment. But Materialists use of audience familiarity with romantic comedies and modern dating culture is done deliberately to make these themes more impactful.

‘Materialists,’ Like ‘Past Lives,’ Breaks Expectations With Intention

Materialists begins its “love story” in a long take sequence of Harry (Pascal) approaching Lucy. It’s bare and intimate, as the shot lands and Lucy and Harry speak plainly to each other at the singles table. Lucy’s doing recruitment here—she thinks Harry is a perfect client—but she reveals some of her own beliefs in the vulnerability of the moment. Love is out of our control; “we can’t help it.” Pascal’s charm and Johnson’s naturalistic yet witty dialogue seduce the audience. Song is intentionally planting the seed that this is a good match in the context of Lucy’s cynical view of dating.

But in the background, John—blurred as a random extra, representative of how his job obscures him from the “high value” landscape of matchmaking—notices Lucy as he caters to the guests. Soon, he lands a Coke and a beer—Lucy’s quirky wedding drink order—right in front of her the moment she asks for it. The drink order isn’t just endearing romance fodder. It’s an authentic desire born out of Lucy and John’s working-class background. Song is deliberate in setting up expectations and breaking them. She combines a meet-cute with a lover from the past to pull the audience into what is typically a light-hearted romp that will break down the love triangle. Even in the confines of this bait and switch, romantic comedies and other marriage plots in and of themselves make Pascal and Evans equally likely end-game for Johnson; whether it goes the way of Bridget Jones’s Diary, When Harry Met Sally, or even Jane Eyre, audiences know this dance.

Just as Song’s film Past Lives fractures long-established expectations of what “meant to be” looks like, Materialists does the same with romantic comedies. Past Lives sees Nora (Greta Lee) reconnect with her childhood sweetheart, Hae Sung (Teo Yoo), whom she left behind when her family moved from South Korea to the U.S. when she was 12. By the time they reconnect in person, Nora is married to Arthur (John Magaro), a man who held no deeper cultural or romanticized meaning to her when they met but who is the love of her life.

Where Past Lives’ Nora stumbles into love outside of her romanticized past, and Lucy is called back to her formerly chaotic and economically restricted past. For both of these heroines, it’s about authenticity. Like Nora, Lucy is sandwiched between two parts of herself: the materialist and the romantic. Similarly to how Nora moves between childhood and adulthood, as well as her Korean and American identity. Song doesn’t tell straightforward, cookie-cutter love stories. She tells stories about people in love. She tells stories about how opportunity, timing, and even the stories we tell ourselves shape who we end up with.

‘Materialists’ Theme Is Strong From Beginning to End

Using the throughline of matchmaking, treating potential partners as merchandise is the core of the film. From the film’s opening bride’s assertion that a man makes her feel valuable to Harry’s instincts to treat Lucy as an investment and the leg surgery he had to increase his value, it’s hardly subtle. In the flashback to Lucy and John’s initial breakup, Lucy’s final words are, “It’s not because we aren’t in love; it’s because we’re broke.” Ultimately, the film is not about a love triangle. It’s about Lucy and all she’s tried to straddle as a romantic person exhausted by poverty.

While Lucy does give up the life of luxury she could have with Harry, the point of the film is that the slight change in both Lucy and John’s circumstances allows their relationship—one built on genuine connection and love—to thrive. Tinder height filters, the ever-evolving incel landscape, and the concept of a “high value” partner are real hurdles in modern dating. Materialists doesn’t offer a cure for this, but it does offer a protagonist who acknowledges that it’s a game rich people play to validate their value-obsessed life, a protagonist who realizes that isn’t what she wants. The film’s controversial but carefully executed twist—one of Lucy’s clients getting assaulted by a “good match”—demonstrates that even this heightened level of screening and obsessive requirements does less than guarantee a match. It doesn’t even keep someone safe. Long-established trust ends up being more important than incomprehensible financial wealth for Lucy.

Celine Song Refuses To Use Wealth as a Substitute for Connection

A daisy ring is slipped onto Lucy's hand by John in Materialists — A daisy ring is slipped onto Lucy’s hand by John in Materialists

The tragedy in Materialists is not that Lucy would have more with Harry, it’s that Lucy and John were very close to not being with their most compatible partner because of stresses that are solvable. Lucy getting a promotion and John getting more commercial work makes their relationship not just feasible, but desirable. In refusing the film’s themes and, further, Song’s direct address of this misunderstanding, viewers are centered on the fantasy of the inauthentic lives of Lucy’s clients.

The conversation around alleged “broke boy propaganda” is part of a growing issue where online culture projects ideas or expectations onto a film, regardless of the film itself. There’s a refusal to engage with Materialists’ intentional storytelling, in favor of justifying the lack of satisfaction viewers found in it. Materialists holds up a mirror to its audience, and some of that audience are only comfortable breaking it.