The cult-making machine that is A24 doesn’t stop. Like a high-end dealer who always has the purest product, this distributor keeps feeding our addiction to narratives that unsettle us, shake us, and force us to stare into the most unforgiving mirror of contemporary cinema. They’ve built an empire on the rubble of what Hollywood thought we wanted to see, giving us instead what we needed: uncomfortable truths wrapped in exquisite cinematography.
From Hereditary to The Witch, A24 has reshaped modern horror with a surgical precision that would make Cronenberg blush. But their true genius lies in their chameleonic range: Everything Everywhere All At Once hit us with multiversal existential absurdism, while Alex Garland delivered Civil War and Warfare, brutal meditations on war and technology that function like philosophical electroshocks. Babygirl explored female sexuality with a candor that made Hollywood blush, confirming that A24 knows no boundaries and never apologizes for crossing them.
Materialists arrives as the newest projectile in this cinematic arsenal, this time aimed squarely at the rotten heart of our modern relationships. Make no mistake: this is not your standard rom-com—it’s a social autopsy disguised as entertainment. Just as American Psycho dissected 1980s capitalism through horror, Celine Song uses romance as a scalpel to slice open the toxic superficiality of our Tinder-era.
The casting is a masterstroke of counterintuitive brilliance. Dakota Johnson, now embodies the modern woman caught between economic pragmatism and authentic desire. She’s the Anne Hathaway of a new generation, but with less self-pity and more bite. Chris Evans, stripped of his vibranium shield, dares to show real vulnerability, stepping away from manufactured heroism to explore the fragile masculinity of the contemporary man. It’s a risky move that pays narrative dividends. Madame Web, Captain America, and Mr. Fantastic?
But it’s Pedro Pascal who fascinates most in this equation. The internet’s “daddy,” the man who has charmed Hollywood with paternal charisma and a sly smile, appears here as an autumnal leading man in a subversion of expectations that borders on the perverse. His presence generates a strange tension—like seeing your favorite uncle in a romantic context that doesn’t quite fit. It’s precisely this discomfort that makes his performance shine: Pascal understands that his character doesn’t need to be conventionally attractive, only authentically human.
Song builds a love triangle that doubles as a brutal metaphor for our current dating “market.” Every inch of height, every digit in a bank account, every clothing brand becomes romantic currency. It’s Hitch reimagined by Bret Easton Ellis: same Manhattan, same obsession with status, but with the ruthless honesty of someone who’s seen too much. The director—born on September 19 (a detail as relevant as a zodiac sign on a dating app)—delivers a ferocious critique without moralistic sermons.
The female audience’s reaction to Johnson’s final choice says more about us than about the film. That collective confusion over a character rejecting material security for something indefinable yet real exposes our own capitalist programming. We’ve been trained to value the tangible over the intangible, the quantifiable over the mysterious. Song confronts us with this truth without offering easy solutions—only uncomfortable questions.
Materialists transcends its genre because it understands that in 2024, talking about love without talking about money, status, and social media is like analyzing politics without mentioning Twitter. Once again, A24 proves that true art doesn’t give us what we want—it shows us who we really are when no one’s watching. And the reflection, as always in their productions, is far from flattering. But absolutely necessary.
Comments
Post a Comment