Marty Supreme

 

In 1952, New York City shoe salesman Marty Mauser (Timothee Chalamet) carries on an affair with childhood friend Rachel Mizler (Odessa A’zion) and plans to sell sporting goods with associate Dion (Luke Manley). His greatest ambition, however, is to become the greatest table tennis player in the world, even if it means stealing, cajoling, or hustling his way to a championship match in Tokyo. His entanglements with a washed-up actress (Gwyneth Paltrow) and her rich husband (Kevin O’Leary) can make – or break – his fortunes.

Though loosely inspired by real-life ping-pong pro Marty Reisman, the creative genesis of writer-director Josh Safdie’s first solo outing can be found in his last collaboration with his brother Bennie, 2019’s Uncut Gems. Like that film’s Howard Rattner, Marty is selfish, obsessive, and irresponsible but also possessed of an infectious, irrepressible chutzpah that makes him hard to truly hate. That bit of self-plagiarism may make Marty Supreme less than novel, but thanks to strong performances, sleek production, and an absence of dull moments, it still works.

Much like the character he plays, Chalamet, who seemingly vultures his way into every juicy role these days, is someone we perhaps should dislike but is too dedicated and too skilled to really resent. He trained in table tennis for years and plays on-screen against actual pros and seems wholly convincing when Marty speaks of the fatedness of his ascent. At the same time, he also layers in moments of vulnerability and compassion. A’zion is good as his counterpart and conspirator, a similarly flawed (unfaithful and dishonest) human whom we still can’t quite hate. Paltrow has one of her better roles in years here, playing Kay Stone as a miserable, superficially glamorous ex-star toiling haplessly away in a doomed theatre production who treats Marty with a mixture of affection, curiosity, and contempt.

Calling to mind Kevin Garnett’s turn in Uncut Gems, the rest of the cast includes non-actors or part-time actors in an assortment of roles. Some are decidedly not much of a stretch: Shark Tank’s O’Leary plays a bullying businessman, deaf Japanese table tennis champ Koto Kawaguchi plays a deaf Japanese table tennis champ, and David Mamet pops up briefly as the director of Kay’s play. On the other hand, the film also offers Tyler the Creator as a ping-pong hustling cab driver, Penn Gillette as an ornery, gun-toting farmer, and director Abel Ferrera as a gangster who is violently protective of his dog. It’s a motley mix though a largely successful one (only author Pico Iyer as the table tennis federation head seemed really overmatched) if you can look past the “What are they doing here?” factor.

Aesthetically, Marty Supreme boasts a period look (shot on film rather than digitally) but an incongruous soundtrack that’s heavy on 80s synth pop. Daniel Lopatin’s score fits the film’s mood and energy well despite the contradiction of the setting.

Despite – or perhaps because of – the plaudits that it received, Marty Supreme is not exactly an easy film to love. It’s bombastic, it’s long, and its characters are varying degrees of amoral. But much like its protagonist, the supreme confidence with which it is executed ultimately makes it worthy of respect.