‘Marty Supreme’ Looks for a Big Bounce

Cinema | December 29th, 2025

By Greg Carlson

There is no rule demanding that our main characters be good human beings. Paul Newman’s Hud Bannon? A charming, selfish snake. Robert De Niro’s Travis Bickle? A ticking time bomb. Jason Schwartzman’s Max Fischer? A conniving, immature pest. And now we can add Timothée Chalamet’s mid-twentieth century table tennis hustler Marty Mauser to the list of folks we would likely cross the street to avoid should we have the misfortune to encounter them in our real lives. “Marty Supreme” lands on Christmas. Its somewhat protracted two-and-a-half-hour length leaves plenty of time at the cinema to digest your stuffing, potatoes and cranberry sauce, even if the story keeps up a breathless pace by staying in the higher gears.

Josh Safdie, directing without brother Benny for the first time since 2008 (Benny also went solo earlier this year with biopic “The Smashing Machine”), conjures up a handsome and frequently exhilarating cinematic universe with the help of longtime collaborator Ronald Bronstein as co-writer/co-editor, legendary production designer Jack Fisk, and the superb cinematographer Darius Khondji. Khondji photographed “Uncut Gems” for the Safdies and both movies pump and pulsate and rocket us forward in sync with the head-spinning reversals of fortune taking place in their narratives. The look and feel of “Marty Supreme” lives up to its title.

It might not be fair to the movie, but Chalamet’s vigorous and self-congratulatory Oscar campaigning frequently comes across as eerily similar to the self-assured personality of the character he plays. He fared better on the road after his portrayal of Bob Dylan in last year’s “A Complete Unknown,” but the press has been more harsh this time around, recycling some quotations from an interview in which Chalamet verbalized that he doesn’t want audiences — or himself — to take his “top level” performances “for granted.” Safdie clearly loves actors and faces. Chalamet is joined by a wonderfully Dick Tracy-esque gallery of mostly male mugs; Gwyneth Paltrow is one of the few women with any sustained dialogue of substance.

“Marty Supreme” begins in New York City in 1952, where we first encounter the youthful protagonist as a smooth-talking shoe salesman eager to have adulterous stockroom sex with pal Rachel (Odessa A’zion). The result of that furtive liaison immediately manifests as a sperm-meets-egg sequence in the tradition of old 16mm education films, “Look Who’s Talking,” and Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer.” The music of the latter arrives just a bit later, when “I Have the Touch” is enlisted as one of the movie’s choice needle-drops. Like Sofia Coppola’s synth and post-punk selections for “Marie Antoinette,” Safdie also embraces anachronistic incongruities. Public Image Ltd.’s “The Order of Death,” Alphaville staple “Forever Young,” and New Order’s “The Perfect Kiss” are among the picks included alongside more period-appropriate tunes.

The biggest swing, though, is surely the placement of “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” the durable, four-decade-strong hosanna that continues to transcend its overuse (Safdie wrote the scene with the song in mind). Plenty of Gen X cinephiles old enough to have memorized “Real Genius” will quickly point out that no movie will ever top the way Martha Coolidge’s 1985 classic incorporated the signature Tears for Fears track. And no matter the filmmaker’s intentions, audiences may be divided regarding the extent to which the chronically unapologetic Marty earns any kind of redemption or sympathy by the time we hear those instantly recognizable opening notes.

gregcarlson1@gmail.com

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