Eva

I liked the way they wrote Lucy. Materialists’ first half hour was full of cool insights from our times about dating, love, business, corporate life, insecurities, and friendship. It was interesting to see a woman so demure, sensitive, and honest trying to make sense of herself. Then it transformed into a classic rom-com with a dramatic tone that felt off at times—but still, I had a good time. The movie is delicate, soothing, and sincere. Lucy is going through a spectacular relationship that “checks all of her boxes,” only to eventually realize that it’s loveless. She experiences it so we don’t have to, and we’re reminded once again that a relationship can’t be purely transactional. It may have all the features of a business, yet as she says—without the love factor, we simply shouldn’t go through with it. Some people who have never experienced love might easily settle for that transactional type of relationship and won’t feel like they’re missing anything. They don’t know there’s more to it—a kind of magic, an invaluable presence, and the care that comes with it, which you feel instantly in that Coke and beer scene. Lucy is honest about what she’d like from a relationship, what she’d prefer to see in a man. She’s materialist, she has standards, but she’s not materialist about love. And when John and she talk it out, you understand: it’s not always because of different standards or expectations that lovers part ways, but often because resentment grew, or fear of disappointing the other took over. In the end, she comes out even more authentic, admitting to him she’s indeed materialist. And he admits he let the fear of not being good enough get the best of him. They can finally start over, and hopefully always prioritize the pure love they share—and strategize for the rest. Even when facing the worst contradictions, if love is truly felt on both sides, it wins. And eventually, it becomes “easy.”