Josh Safdie | 2hr 29min
Marty Supreme may be set in the post-war boom of mid-century Manhattan, though its hyper-stylised intensity would seem more at home in the 1980s. The new-wave textures of ‘Forever Young’ immediately introduces the anachronistic tension at its heart, and from there, synth-pop beats mix with treated choirs and mallet percussion in a propulsive, reverb-drenched soundscape. These aural motifs also amplify Josh Safdie’s manic pacing, propelling his narrative on waves of electronic adrenaline that leap with frantic momentum between subplots.
Above all though, this cultural excess bleeds through Marty Mauser’s self-aggrandising sense of destiny, thrusting him towards a modern myth of success centred more around the visionary drive and hustle culture of Reagan’s America than 1950s idealism. As far as this scheming table tennis player is concerned, he might as well already be the world champion. Getting there is simply a matter of time and, unfortunately for him, money.
Having previously followed self-sabotaging antiheroes through New York underworlds of drugs and gambling, Josh Safdie splits from his brother Benny to venture forth on a solo directorial effort in Marty Supreme, exploring the mordantly dark corners of racket sports. This is no feel-good story charting a plucky underdog’s rise to the top – Marty is as unlikeable a protagonist as they come, displaying callous resolve when he holds his shoe store colleague at gunpoint for travel funds, and reacting with instinctive denial when his girlfriend Rachel reveals her pregnancy. Virtually everything he touches in his quest for glory is corrupted, so when he turns down a deal from cutthroat business magnate Milton Rockwell that demands sacrifice, he appears to meet his match in sheer ruthlessness.
Timothée Chalamet may hold this whirlwind drama together with his discomfortingly captivating charisma, though Safdie’s ensemble of familiar, unexpected faces should not be mistaken for mere stunt casting. The cultural images of Penn Jillette, Tyler the Creator, and Abel Ferrara are invoked and subverted in Marty Supreme’s volatile world, while notorious businessman, Shark Tank host, and professional jerk Kevin O’Leary makes his acting debut as an uncanny reflection of himself. In his stark portrayal of Rockwell, O’Leary presents a capitalist vampire who sucks ambition dry of all integrity, forcing Marty to confront two parallel paths of moral surrender – exploiting others in an unrewarding grind for recognition, or accepting a demeaning offer of hollow convenience.
Of course, making Tokyo’s World Championship on any terms but Marty’s own is out of the question. Especially after his defeat by table tennis prodigy Koto Endo, Safdie sharply contrasts the two sportsmen, with Endo commanding respect as a symbol of post-war Japan’s restored honour while Marty retreats to the coarse squalor of New York. His is a world of relentless desperation, and even beyond the grainy 35mm film stock, Safdie’s handheld camerawork and long lenses expose the brittleness of Marty’s dreams. It’s not that his environment is actively conspiring against him, yet fate seems cruelly aligned when Marty’s hotel bathtub falls through the floor at the exact moment he learns the International Table Tennis Association has fined him $1500. Catastrophe closely follows his efforts to climb the ranks, though the closer we scrutinise his struggles, the clearer his own culpability becomes.
Not only is Marty a trash-talker and sore loser in the table tennis arena, but his frantic attempts to raise $1500 and overturn his World Championship ban also reveal an arrogant willingness to take advantage of the vulnerable. Here, Safdie tightly winds his narrative into a series of precarious escapades, as Marty invites Rachel and his friend Wally into schemes that nervously ratchet up the tension. Cons at bowling alleys, negotiations with a Jewish gangster, and territorial altercations on a farmer’s property each escalate to brutal violence – though even when staring down his own mortality, not once does Marty ever question the high-stakes pursuit of his objective.
Nowhere does his selfishness cut deeper than in his romantic relationships with Rachel and Kay, both of whom bear the brunt of his recklessness. As an ageing actress and Rockwell’s wife, the latter especially becomes a prized trophy in Marty’s eyes, feeding his egotistic sense of conquest even as he remains ignorant to her former acclaim. He is not above stealing her necklace during sex and later trying to pawn it off – though once again, his attempt to cash in miserably fails, learning that it is merely cheap costume jewellery.
Having cheated on her husband and now dependent on Marty for support, Rachel’s pregnancy places her in even more dire position. She is far from a helpless victim, often manipulating him and willingly engaging his selfish gambits, yet her growing belly looms over his career as an inevitable burden. In a hilariously irreverent diversion, Safdie even spends the opening credits following the journey of his sperm as they competitively race to the egg, effectively reducing Marty’s own sporting ambition to its most primal biological drive. He may be seeking glorious elevation above the fray, yet like all those he considers beneath him, he is a mere slave to survival.
Perhaps it is this vulnerability which awakens a deeper awareness in Marty as he confronts a grander purpose outside of sporting victory. After all, Safdie is not so concerned with redemption here as he is in the consequences of flawed ambition, considering those absolute limits that not even this unrepentant hustler can defy. Some may find themselves totally defeated by life’s harsh certainties, yet as Marty finally accepts the significance of something beyond himself and breaks down in tears, we glimpse a long-dormant humility – not the kind that necessarily mends character flaws, but one which softens a seemingly impenetrable hardness. Humanity is both our ultimate salvation and most exasperating hindrance on the road to excellence, yet as Marty Supreme so abrasively illustrates, it is also the greatest price that any stubborn, self-serving dreamer stands to lose.
Marty Supreme is currently playing in cinemas.