'Marty Supreme' is a Jittery Chronicle of American Hubris

From its opening frames, Josh Safdie's latest feature, Marty Supreme, intentionally disorients the viewer, establishing a kinetic temporal displacement that mirrors the psychological state of its central character. The film is nominally set in the 1950s, yet it employs a visual and emotional vernacular strongly reminiscent of the tense, jittery character studies of the 1970s, all underscored by an anachronistic soundtrack featuring 1980s needle drops from artists like Public Image Ltd., Peter Gabriel, and Tears for Fears. This intentional friction is a signature Safdie move, pulling the audience into the shoes of a man who feels flung out of time and uncomfortable in his own skin—a thematic echo of his earlier, similarly propulsive drama, Uncut Gems.

At the heart of this volatile narrative is what many critics are calling the best performance of Timothée Chalamet's career. Chalamet embodies Marty Mauser, a New York City ping pong champion whose boundless self-belief rivals his actual skill. Marty barely sustains himself, working at a shoe store where he often sleeps. Here, he maintains a passionate affair with his neighbor, Rachel (Odessa A’zion), who is married to the brutish Ira (Emory Cohen) but captivated by Marty’s magnetic, if destructive, energy.

The film's prologue quickly gives way to Marty's pursuit of a ping pong championship, where his ambition takes reckless flight. He lives ostentatiously, upgrading his room to the Ritz and attempting to pin the expense on the event’s organizers. In the hotel lobby, he spots the former box office star Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow), whose faded stardom still holds immense allure for him. Through sheer bravado, Marty talks his way into Kay's life and bed, even attempting to coordinate speculative business deals with her husband, Milton (played by Kevin O’Leary of Shark Tank fame), all while sleeping with Kay. This reckless hubris culminates in his loss of the championship, earning him the humiliating moniker "Defeated American" in Japan. He returns to New York deeply in debt and with his ego shattered, only to be confronted with a new reality: Rachel is pregnant.

Safdie's commitment to destabilizing the viewer extends to his inspired casting choices. The film features a deliberate, provocative use of familiar faces, creating a "just-left-of-center" atmosphere without resorting to mere stunt casting. The inclusion of O’Leary, whose public persona is centered on business deal-making, adds an unexpected layer to the financial recklessness of Marty’s endeavors. The cast is peppered with famous New Yorkers, including Sandra Bernhard, Fran Drescher, and filmmaker Abel Ferrara, alongside local legend John Catsimatidis. Tyler Okonma (Tyler, The Creator) delivers excellent scenes as Marty’s hustling partner, while Penn Jillette appears late in the film, nearly unrecognizable. This unpredictable cast list perfectly complements the narrative’s refusal to allow the audience to anticipate who or what is around the next corner.

Chalamet's performance dominates the film, capturing the essence of a man who believes confidence is the ultimate currency. Marty's rapid-fire dialogue and refusal to accept rejection often cause him to shut doors others are actively trying to open. Chalamet's turn has been likened to the compelling and abrasive energy of 1970s Al Pacino, portraying a figure who is simultaneously the most fascinating and most annoying person in any room. The temporal displacement is central here: Marty is essentially an 1980s financial shark, a prototype of figures like Jordan Belfort, born a generation too early. For Marty 70 years ago, the game was ping pong; today, it would likely be Bitcoin.

The thematic depth of Marty Supreme is realized through the storytelling, where Safdie and co-writer Ronald Bronstein craft an origin story of both aggressive American business and toxic international bravado. Though Marty initially resists participating in the travel circuit of ping-pong sideshows and halftime acts (like those seen at Harlem Globetrotters games), he eventually concedes, realizing that sometimes "you have to play ping pong with a seal to get ahead." He transforms from a mere ping pong prodigy into a vision of the aggressively dominant American businessman—a fast-talker who isn't content to simply dominate his own corner of the world, but seeks global conquest and the vanquishing of his international rivals.

Chalamet is expertly balanced by two excellent supporting performances. Odessa A’zion elevates Rachel beyond a simple "loyal girlfriend" cliché, instilling her with a quiet confidence that allows her to see through Marty’s act while simultaneously enabling his best potential. Gwyneth Paltrow avoids the trope of the fading star, instead finding the subtle truth of a woman desperately needing love, whether from an opening-night crowd or a love-bombing ping-pong player. Her reaction when she hears theatergoers respond to her entrance is a beautifully nuanced moment, demonstrating the strength of the small, smart decisions that ensure Marty Supreme succeeds in its ambition.

The film’s visceral power is inseparable from two key collaborators: cinematographer Darius Khondji and composer Daniel Lopatin. Khondji, renowned for his work on films like Seven and The Immigrant, imbues Marty with a jittery, sweaty visual language, making the camera seem to struggle to keep pace with the protagonist’s manic energy. This aesthetic is further enhanced by Safdie and Bronstein’s expert editing. Meanwhile, Lopatin's pulsing score, combined with the inspired and anachronistic needle drops (like the memorable use of the Peter Gabriel track), functions as a character itself.

While the film may be reductively tagged as “Uncut Gems with ping pong” due to the shared kinetic filmmaking language, Marty Supreme is an original and essential work. It is a riveting character study about a man burdened by the conviction of his own greatness—a man who fully believes his declaration, “I have a purpose. You don’t. And if you think that’s some kind of blessing, it’s not.” The film leaves the viewer with the resonant, slightly satirical notion of the ambitious, displaced American male: a story of a guy burdened by the great man he thinks he is destined to be.