The Moment “Materialists” Stopped Breathing
It's Friday night, and “Materialists” is what's left on the shortlist after weeks of cinematic famine. I'm sitting two rows from the screen, popcorn cold, when Celine Song's second act magic kicks in—sharp, wounded dialogue that almost forgets it's supposed to be funny. The whole theater buzzy, tense, leaning forward like it's a thriller, not, as the marketing claims, a “romantic comedy.” That's already the first twist: this film is not what you expect. $5 million in one day, comfortably headed for a $12 million opening weekend—no small feat for a $20 million finance in this economy (and with everyone glued to “Inside Out 2” trailers).
But then it trips. Hard. There's this subplot, clunky as a shopping cart wheel, that drags the last act somewhere safer and less honest. I almost heard the audience deflate, actual seats squeaking. Neat wrap-ups are supposed to feel like a sigh; here, it's a gasp that gets stuck. Maybe that's just me—though judging by the B- on CinemaScore, maybe not.
Second Films Are Haunted
Celine Song will never escape “Past Lives,” will she? (We all remember Past Lives. We downloaded every unofficial playlist people made on Spotify; that film left afterimages.) Here comes her second, not quite gunning for the same poetic heights, but wearing its Metacritic 70 like a—what? A badge, a bruise? Didn't matter, not this weekend: audiences showed up anyway. Industry folks kept one eye on the numbers, the other on the calendar—“Materialists” bowed nationally on June 14, 2024, fresh off limited June festival screenings, a rare thing for a RomCom in this era of IP bloat.
Read that again: the film made nearly half its production budget opening weekend, with nothing like Marvel money behind it. It's not “Barbenheimer,” it's not “Everything Everywhere…”—but I'd wager any director holding a $20 million ticket would kill for that opening.
Critics, Fans, and Everyone Caught Between
Critics like “Materialists,” fine. Not love. You can feel the caution in the reviews—a voice in the corner muttering “Sophomore slump?” while the rest of the room crosses their fingers. Not bad, says TheWrap. Not great, murmurs IndieWire. But grounded, always; nobody accuses Song of floating off into cliché, even if the ending feels suspiciously gift-wrapped. I felt that—watching a character dissolve into a resolution she didn't quite earn. Real people never get endings this tidy, do they?
On audience reaction: let's just call it split. There are mild laughs, some audible sighs, a bit of shuffling during the credits. That's your B- CinemaScore: good, not viral, not polarizing. For every “It's genius, you're all blind,” there's a “Well, Past Lives was better…”
The Bigger Picture—And What Comes Next
What does it mean for Celine Song? Is this the moment she gets pigeonholed—a one-hit wonder? Or is this second movie syndrome, the film that gets appreciated three years later, after the memes die down and someone writes a Medium essay about its quietly radical casting? Honestly, I don't know. No one does. Sometimes filmmakers stumble out of the gate twice, then catch fire. Sometimes… not.
Heard someone behind me whisper, “She's still better than 90% of the studio hacks.” Not wrong. Even if “Materialists” stumbles, it stumbles reaching for something—a messy, honest humanity. I'll take that over a dozen focus-grouped, committee-built streaming duds.
Look—Song isn't a one-hit wonder. Not yet. But all eyes are on her third act now.
