Staff Reports
Picture this, dear reader: a bustling cityscape where Dakota Johnson roams the world of high-stakes matchmaking, navigating through New York’s chaotic vineyard of matchmaking apps. Yes, in the film “Materialists,” she finds herself torn between the quintessential has-it-all hotshot, played by Pedro Pascal, and her imperfect ex, played by Chris Evans, who seems to have the charisma minus the bank account. But this isn’t just the plot of another popcorn romance; it’s a microscope examining the whims and woes of modern femininity and the blurred lines of value in today’s culture.
To understand this cinematic tale fully, one must remember that New York, long painted as the cultural epicenter, is no longer ruling the roost. Once the throne of opinion makers, the newfound voices from every other corner of the country — think Nashville’s twang or Austin’s laid-back vibe — are starting to script their versions of the American Dream. Yet, movies persistently returning to the Big Apple suggest a refusal to acknowledge this shift, akin to spinning a globe only to stop it back on New York every time. But perhaps it’s time Hollywood checks what’s happening elsewhere, lest it gets stuck in reruns of its Manhattan fantasies.
In the film’s quasi-philosophical lane, we pass by a glaring discussion about value — particularly a woman’s value — in a society so dizzyingly moving towards materialism. The age-old narrative where being asked for her hand in marriage affirms a woman’s worth gets an eyebrow-raising resurrection. If you listen closely, this under-the-radar cameo highlights a contemporary controversy: can a successful career substitute the age-old assurance of engagement rings and homes lived in? For a woman with a lucrative career, the genuine question shines bright as any billboard in Times Square. If wealth and achievements spell value for a man, why should it not for a woman?
Ah, the tangled web of material detachment and spiritual longing! Way back when, during the Industrial Revolution, women may have lost economic clout but held tightly to the spiritual reins. They became beacons of domestic sanctity, gentle nurturers whose roles fueled the very essence of home. But today, amidst glass ceilings shattered and boardrooms conquered, there can be an unspoken hollowness. In a digital age where simplicity can be an antiquated term, the abandonment of traditional roles doesn’t necessarily translate to fulfillment.
In a whirlwind of career triumphs, many modern women may feel abandoned by the values once whispered by rocking chairs and bedtime stories. The film thereby serves as a somber reminder that femininity should not be defined merely by professions nor the inch-width of followership on social media. At a subtle level, “Materialists” ultimately challenges both its characters and audience to reconcile the pursuit of outward success with the retention of feminine spiritual power. Alas, where is the gold-dust path that saves us from turning our backs on the old while embracing the new? Ah, dear reader, therein lies the splendid paradox of our age.
