Marty Supreme
★★★ 1/2
If you have an A-type personality, get stressed when things spiral out of control, or feel your blood pressure rise when chaos refuses to let up… Marty Supreme might test your endurance.
This is a nearly two-and-a-half-hour ride that’s cranked to eleven from the opening serve, following Marty, a brash, relentless table-tennis prodigy tearing through 1950s New York in pursuit of being the best in the world. Marty, played by Timothée Chalamet, won’t let anything stand in his way. Not people. Not consequences. Not basic human decency.
And Chalamet? He’s terrific. Marty is narcissistic, insensitive and deeply unpleasant—let’s be honest, he’s kind of an asshole—and Chalamet commits fully to that energy. It’s another reminder of just how much command he has over the screen, even when the character he’s playing gives you absolutely nothing to root for.
If you’ve seen Safdie projects like Good Time or Uncut Gems, the rhythm here will feel familiar. This time, Josh Safdie is flying solo, and to his credit, he clearly has total command of the world he’s building. The film is dense with characters, settings, costumes and kinetic energy. Everything feels meticulously designed, even as it threatens to spin out of control.
Where the film lost me a bit is thematically. I was very, but by the end, I struggled to connect with what it was all building toward. Not because it’s going over anyone’s head, but because it sets up so many moments and set pieces without delivering a payoff that felt emotionally satisfying. I got the sense Safdie still wanted us to feel something for Marty by the end, and I just… didn’t.
Maybe that’s personal. Marty’s brand of unchecked narcissism runs directly against a lot of my own core beliefs. You could argue the film is a commentary on American individualism—the pursuit of personal greatness at the expense of community—and if that’s the thesis, it’s there. But it’s a very long road to reach that conclusion, and it didn’t fully land for me.
That said, there’s no denying how memorable large chunks of this movie are. One bathtub scene will live rent-free in my brain. The table-tennis sequences are visually electric. So much so that Marty Supreme almost works as a sports movie in its own warped way. And across the board, the acting is excellent.
Gwyneth Paltrow is terrific in her limited screen time, effortlessly reminding you of the movie-star presence she brings. And one of the biggest surprises? Her on-screen husband, played by Kevin O’Leary (Shark Tank). He’s perfectly cast, nails the tone and fits right into the Safdie universe—another example of how great these filmmakers are at finding the exact right people for their roles.
So yes, Marty Supreme is super entertaining. The editing, performances, costumes and sheer filmmaking craft are all stellar. I just don’t quite see the Best Picture-level praise it’s getting, mainly because those technical elements ultimately overshadow the thematic payoff.
Still, it’s absolutely worth checking out. And if you’ve somehow been living under a rock and missed just how captivating Chalamet can be, this is a pretty solid place to start. Just maybe take a deep breath before you press play.
