Staff Reports
Once upon a time, in a quaint little dream called New York City, there was a movie called “Materialists.” Now, this wasn’t one of those ordinary romcoms where boy meets girl, loses girl, and then wins her back during a high-stakes airport run. No, this movie dared to tread the complex terrain of modern matchmaking, where the hearts of women are won over by checklists of material attributes—tall, dark, handsome, and preferably wealthy. Ah, romance in the 21st century: where the quest for love consists of societal pressures and emotional transactions.
While the movie cleverly plays into the urban folklore that rich city folk are the cultural compass of our times, one can’t help but chuckle at this enduring myth. It used to be that the Big Apple was where all the important chatter was hatched; however, in an era where anyone from Nashville to Nebraska can tweet their two cents, it’s high time for the cultural centerpieces to adapt or face being as outdated as a rotary phone. For all their glamorous hustle and bustle, the coastal elites are living in yesterday’s headlines while middle America ushers in today’s news—often with a MAGA cap and a Twitter handle.
And then, there’s the question of why women, such as our heroine in “Materialists,” feel a yearning for validation through marriage. It’s as if the narrative of old lingers: only when adorned with a wedding ring does a woman feel truly appreciated. The movie underscores this desperation for value through matrimony repeatedly, almost as if reminding its viewers that the feminist revolution is still a work in progress. Despite successful careers and a bustling social life, the film suggests these women seek something more akin to…a fairy tale ending.
Amid the laughter lines lies a solemn truth: women have been sold a bill of goods that swaps spiritual strength for material measure. Long gone are the days when spiritual femininity held court as the true north for a virtuous life. Today, the ticket to feeling “valued” seems to lie in the display of one’s outward assets rather than inward riches. Feminine virtues that once knitted the fabric of home and heart are relegated to the dusty attics of memory, replaced by narratives offering empowerment sans the soul.
In the grand tapestry of these societal shifts, if women trade spiritual grace for materialistic grounding, what truly remains? The movie skirted around this truth, offering a thoughtful reflection on its complex portrayal of modern womanhood. But in the end, perhaps what is missed by both our movie moguls and its characters is a return to appreciating the intrinsic value that lies in home-making, nurturing, and forging genuine human connections. At its core, perhaps, lies a longing for honest-to-goodness authenticity—a commodity rarer than any material possession in this digital age.
