Marty Supreme Is as Hollow as a Ping-Pong Ball

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As a film buff, I’m always fascinated by how subjective taste can be – what one person finds mean-spirited, another might see as darkly funny. And this year, Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme really embodies that. It’s a long, winding character study starring Timothée Chalamet as Marty, a table tennis prodigy in the 1950s who’s completely ruthless in his pursuit of success. He just doesn’t care who he hurts along the way. Seriously, the list of people he uses and disappoints is extensive. There’s Rachel (Odessa A’zion), a childhood friend he gets pregnant and then abandons. He also seduces and steals from Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow), a lonely old movie star who, strangely, keeps coming back for more. He even rips off his boss, Murray (Larry “Ratso” Sloman). And the film heavily implies that this behavior is inherited – his mother, Rebecca (Fran Drescher, who doesn’t get enough screen time), is presented as manipulative, suggesting Marty is just wired to use people, it’s in his DNA.

Marty Supreme is the type of film often praised as simply being ‘fun,’ which speaks to how much expectations have changed for movies these days. Like the Safdie brothers’ previous film, 2019’s Uncut Gems, it’s fast-paced and energetic, but feels even more draining and has a harsher edge. The film centers on Marty, a character inspired by a 1950s ping pong champion (though the story itself is made up). He’s remarkably self-centered, and the film seems to want us to root for him despite his terrible behavior. While intended to be a complex character, Marty may simply be unlikeable.

The film begins in 1952 in New York City, introducing Marty Mauser, a quick-witted but somewhat shady young man. He’s currently selling shoes, but he’s about to leave for London to compete in an international table-tennis match – he’s been saving up for the trip and has finally reached his goal. Before he can finish his shift, his longtime friend Rachel visits the store, pretending to be a shopper. Rachel is unhappily married to a man named Ira, and Marty isn’t much better as a potential partner. They quickly share an awkward sexual encounter in the back room, one that feels casual for him but perhaps isn’t for her. The movie then jumps straight to the end credits, featuring a playful graphic of sperm racing to fertilize an egg. The technique feels familiar, reminiscent of the opening of Amy Heckerling’s Look Who’s Talking in 1989, though this film doesn’t quite achieve the same impact.

Marty’s boss, Murray, won’t pay him what he’s owed, so Marty takes the money himself to afford his trip. While not a terrible offense – he did earn the money – it shows he’s a bit of a trickster. He reaches the London championships but loses badly to a graceful Japanese player, Koto Endo (based on real player Koto Kawaguchi). Determined to get his revenge, Marty now needs to figure out how to get to Japan.

Okay, so when he finally gets to London, he immediately spots Gwyneth Paltrow’s character, Kay, at his hotel. I mean, the guy is so smooth – he calls her from his room while literally standing on his bed in his socks, underwear, and bathrobe! And somehow, it works! She actually falls for his charm and later gives him a diamond necklace, just to fund whatever crazy thing he’s up to. Honestly, Paltrow is the only one in this movie who feels genuinely human. He also manages to get on the bad side of Kay’s husband, Milton Rockwell – played by Kevin O’Leary, and let me tell you, the guy can’t act to save his life. Rockwell tries to get Marty involved in some seriously shady deal, but even Marty thinks it’s too much. It’s funny, because there has to be someone even more dishonest than Marty in this whole world, and poor O’Leary’s character is stuck being that guy.

Safdie’s films feel like a series of tangents and detours; he throws in anything and everything to see what resonates. For example, a marketing idea for orange ping pong balls fails but is later repurposed as a visual gag. Absurd moments, like a bathtub falling through a hotel floor, are meant to be shocking, but they’re typical of the film’s chaotic energy. While the table tennis matches are competently filmed, they feel secondary to the overall madness. Unpleasant behavior is common, even Rachel gets involved in a deceitful act that leads to her husband, Ira, being violently injured. The film asks us to appreciate its emotional depth or dark comedy, but it ultimately lacks a strong emotional center. Despite this, it attempts a last-minute, overly sentimental redemption for Marty, which feels unearned.

Safdie fills the movie with 1980s music – songs like Tears for Fears’ “Change” and Alphaville’s “Forever Young” – despite being set in the 1950s, which feels attention-seeking and overdone. He seems to enjoy casting famous actors, even if their roles don’t quite fit, resulting in a crowded and chaotic film. The production design, expertly handled by Jack Fisk, is a highlight, capturing the authentic details of the 1950s. However, the cinematography by Darius Khondji, normally a master of his craft, feels murky and underwhelming. The film features a large cast, but few performances stand out. We wish there had been more screen time for Sharon Drescher or Tyler the Creator, who brought a cool energy that contrasted nicely with the main character’s frantic personality. Writer Pico Iyer appears in a small, ultimately pointless role. The film also includes a bizarre subplot involving a stolen dog and the intimidating Abel Ferrara, which never gets properly resolved, culminating in a shockingly violent moment.

Timothée Chalamet’s character, Marty, is driven by a relentless pursuit of success, almost like an animated dog chasing a fake lure. It’s okay for characters to be flawed; in stories, it’s often our imperfections that make us memorable. Chalamet fully committed to the role, starting preparations in 2018 and even carrying a travel-sized table tennis set with him. As Marty, he convincingly portrays a hyperactive and insensitive person, and he’s masterful at conveying a detached, emotionless gaze. He delivers exactly what the film requires.

Timothée Chalamet is a remarkably talented actor capable of excelling in any role, which is why it’s surprising he doesn’t seem to be choosing projects more carefully. He delivered a compelling performance as a young Bob Dylan, capturing the complexities of a character known for being both charming and flawed. He pinpointed the source of Dylan’s appeal – the idea that his artistic genius is a kind of reluctant sharing, a captivating brilliance we’re naturally drawn to. However, his performance in Marty Supreme feels effortless to the point of being lifeless. It’s clearly the result of diligent preparation, but lacks depth, coming across as empty and echoing the overall lack of substance in the film itself.

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2025-12-01 21:07