Broke man propaganda isn’t new, and it’s been a hallmark of classic romance movies for the longest time. We see it in The Notebook, when poor, impoverished Ryan Reynolds falls in love with rich girl Rachel McAdams. We see it in Titanic, when starving artist Leonardo DiCaprio woos rich debutante Kate Winslet. In Filipino romance flicks, we’ve seen it in Basta’t Kasama Kita, Mula sa Puso, and many, many more. And now, we see it once again in director Celine Song’s Materialists.
Except Song doesn’t take kindly to the “broke man propaganda” that many moviegoers have attached to her latest romcom. For those who haven’t seen the movie yet (What are you doing?), Materialists follows Lucy (a cold, judgmental Dakota Johnson), who is one of the best matchmakers in New York City. For all her talk about “tangible” assets (wealth, height, hotness, etc.) being the sole markers of success in a relationship, she finds herself in a tough, delicious bind. She’s caught between choosing the extremely handsome and extremely rich bachelor Harry (a glorious Pedro Pascal) and her extremely handsome but extremely poor ex-boyfriend John (a stunning Chris Evans).
Without giving the ending away, Lucy makes a choice that has led to audiences questioning the real thesis statement behind Materialists. Song recently responded to the backlash in a podcast interview with Refinery29, saying that people are missing the point of her movie. “I’m very concerned about the way that we talk about people who are poor,” said Song. “The thing that’s very important to me is to stress that poverty is not the fault of the poor. I find it very cruel to talk about John as a character who loves Lucy, and who is a beautiful character being played beautifully by Chris, to talk about him in such cruel terms as ‘broke boy’ or ‘broke man.’”
Song continued by pointing out the classicism of some of the rhetoric surrounding Materialists, as it almost deems the “broke man” or poor people in general to be unworthy of love because of their economic status. “The whole movie is about fighting the way that capitalism is trying to colonize our hearts and colonize love,” said Song.
In Defense of Song
It’s a mistake to call Materialists “broke man propaganda,” because it truly isn’t that. Song is more than a capable writer and director (Case in point, Past Lives), and in Materialists, she offers us a story that is obsessed with tangible and intangible wealth. None of her characters is blind to the fact that money is what makes the world go round, least of all John, who, as a struggling 37-year-old actor still living in a shitty New York apartment with three roommates, knows that he isn’t the best financial decision. John is constantly reminding Lucy that he can’t give her the life she wants or deserves, and Lucy herself is under no illusions that choosing John would result in a financially comfortable life. She’d be much better off choosing Harry, who is quick to sweep her off her feet with giant rose bouquets, expensive dinners around the city, and spur-of-the-moment vacations to Iceland.
But what John can offer Lucy are his intangible assets. This is a man who is completely besotted by and devoted to Lucy, and it’s clear that she recognizes the value in this. He may not be able to give her trips to Ibiza, but he can pledge his loyalty to her, love her, and grow old with her.
On paper, and even out loud, these are qualities that we easily label as “cheesy,” “cheap,” and ultimately, in a world so tied to capitalism and the success that comes with material wealth, “worthless.” The materialist in all of us can’t help but call bullshit on John’s offer of love and commitment. True love, in this economy?
But when did we let romance die? John may be the worst financial decision any girl can make, but we would be remiss to ignore his value completely. Against her better judgment, Lucy finds herself falling into John’s orbit over and over again, even if she knows that her attachment to him contradicts her entire ethos about dating and love. To Lucy, a person’s value is quantifiable. But when she finds herself getting closer to John, she throws all her grandiose statements about economic status, money, and financial compatibility out the window.
There’s a high level of privilege that comes with choosing true love over financial stability. Love, unfortunately, does not put food on the table, and while I would like to imagine that love is the only thing we need, that would be a big mistake. We all need money to survive, and life always seems a little better when you don’t have to worry about what’s in your bank account. This is why Harry, tall, rich, private equity millionaire Harry, just seems like the best, handsomest, strongest choice for Lucy.
Song isn’t trying to push any type of agenda on audiences with Materialists. As viewers, it really doesn’t matter if you prefer Harry or John (I, myself, would have chosen both men). They’re both gorgeous, and they both definitely dote on Lucy, and Song doesn’t paint either of them as better or worse than the other. They are simply choices that Lucy, and in turn, all of us, have to make. There are no right or wrong answers in Materialists; and hey, it’s a romcom, so why not just lean into the fantasy and enjoy it?
