Material girl in a material world

I just watched Materialists — or rather, Материалистка, as the Russian title insists on pting all the blame squarely on the heroine. I’ve been mulling it over since.

I liked it because I just couldn’t take my eyes off the perfectly sculpted, feminine Dakota Johnson with her dramatic gaze and sharp one-liners + I adore every rom-com in the universe.
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I didn’t like it because I honestly had no idea what kind of movie I’d just watched.
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Here’s my hot take: in the second half, those overly sentimental love conversations were there on purpose (let’s hope no one actually talks like that in real life) to annoy us and dial up the inner conflict for the viewer. And I didn’t understand the heroine’s final choice at all — what was stopping her from starting the new job and staying in love? Spoiler: absolutely nothing. Her decision looks quirky, but let’s be real, people make romantic choices for the plot.

Honestly, a marriage with poor injured Pedro could’ve been perfect, if only because they had clear, straightforward communication. Sure, it was a bit cold-blooded, but knowing how to talk things through is priceless. And yes, we’re happy for her… but not sincerely, when the apartment key just conveniently drops into her hand with a flick of the wrist.

And yes, in case you were wondering — the leg-lengthening surgery is real. Not a screenwriter’s exaggeration, but a very real, very expensive, very painful procedure where metal rods are inserted into the bones and the body is slowly stretched over months. It can cost anywhere from $75,000 to $150,000 depending on how many inches (or centimeters) you're chasing, and recovery can take a full year.

In Materialists, it’s not just a plot twist — it’s a metaphor. If women are allowed (read: expected) to modify their faces, bodies, hairlines, cheekbones and waistlines, why shouldn’t a man be allowed to, well, grow? The character’s transformation feels both absurd and weirdly touching — as if stretching your femurs could finally align your inner value with your Raya bio. In a world where romance is a transaction, sometimes the down payment is your tibia.
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The audience’s reaction was priceless: everyone was laughing through the first half, and then halfway through someone shouted, “God have mercy,” and nobody laughed again after that. For the Slavic girls in a Moscow cinema, there was no happy ending. And there never will be. But there’s not going to be a sequel about that.

My advice to men: don’t take your partner to this film if you haven’t figured out money issues in your relationship or if you have a complex about your height. Or do go — and watch closely how your partner reacts to the jokes.