‘MARTY SUPREME’ Review: Timothée Chalamet Delivers Winning Work In A Spry, Subversive Sports Film

Courtney Howard // Film Critic

MARTY SUPREME

Rated R, 2 hours and 30 minutes

Directed by: Josh Safdie

Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Odessa A’zion, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kevin O’Leary, Géza Röhrig, Tyler Okonma, Luke Manley, Fran Drescher, Emory Cohen, Abel Ferrara, Penn Jillette, Pico Iyer

MARTY SUPREME is less about a young man who loves to play table tennis and more about a young man whose self-destructive actions continually get in the way of him achieving his dreams of ascending in rank, status and wealth in the world of his sport. Director/ co-writer Josh Safdie re-engineers all of the tropes associated with underdog sports films – dissecting, examining, and ultimately subverting their traditional formulations – through a lens focused on a charmingly cocky, motor-mouthed hustler who constantly ping-pongs between comfort and chaos. And the result is ablaze with a fire, fury and ferocity all its own. Coupled with an exceptionally exhilarating, live-wire performance from its leading man, the picture reverberates with an electric energy.

It’s 1952 when we first meet twenty-something Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet). He’s a shoe salesman in his uncle’s tiny shop on the Lower East Side. The job is a means to an end as he’s scraping money together to take him to an upcoming table tennis championship in London. He’s in pursuit of true greatness, but doing so in a so-called-sport hardly anyone respects – at least, not yet. He’s hoping to get away from a life that feels pre-ordained, to escape a neighborhood that’s trapped him for too long, and a family – like his overbearing mother (Fran Drescher) – that keeps him on their working-class level. He’s got a pioneering, entrepreneurial spirit, roping friends Dion (Luke Manley) and Wally (Tyler Okonma) into his tiresome long and short-term business schemes.

As Marty sets forth on his overseas journey, hoping to springboard from one tournament to the next, he inadvertently sets up disastrous circumstances for himself, starting with knocking up his already married girlfriend Rachel (Odessa A’zion) and stealing his rightful paycheck from his cousin before leaving. He then continues his orchestrated self-destruction by defrauding the International Table Tennis Association for a penthouse suite, offending ITTA leader Ram Sethi (Pico Iyer), playing enfant terrible in the press, losing his match and striking up yet another affair, this time with actress Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow). She’s unhappy in an oppressive marriage to ink magnate Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’Leary), but yearns for a career comeback on stage. Marty’s consequences only continue to mount on his return home. But these obstacles force him to double down on his big dream to be on top – and we root for him to get there.

Simply put, MARTY SUPREME makes UNCUT GEMS look like it’s for kids. It’s a non-stop rollercoaster ride, guiding us through Marty’s devious exploits with the greatest of transitional ease, from his escape from Rachel’s blowhard hubby Ira (Emory Cohen) to his shady dealings with intimidating mobster Ezra Mishkin (Abel Ferrara) and his perpetually barking dog Moses. As if one state could ever contain Marty’s misadventures, they spill over into New Jersey and  the gears shift yet again, taking us up another incline and descent replete with a brawling gang of bowling alley marks and an obstinate, shotgun-toting farmhouse owner (played by an unrecognizable Penn Jillette).

Safdie, who’s now working without the scaffolding of his brother Benny (who recently released a more traditional, subdued sports biopic with THE SMASHING MACHINE), and stalwart collaborating co-writer/ editor Ronald Bronstein retain their practically patented panache capturing the fringes of New York City life with invigorating, over-caffeinated verve and breezy bluster. Cross-talk, raised voices and busy street noise mix in a crackling cacophony as the stakes raise and tension grows tight enough to snap. They lay the groundwork for compelling characters with true grit and gravitas to shine, bringing a tactile scale and scope to this ensemble piece. By gently embracing the expected story beats of classic underdog sports dramas and combining those with a fascinating character study of an antihero who populates his life with folks not too dissimilar from himself, they’ve created something special in their remix.

Chalamet is phenomenal, delivering daring, Oscar-caliber work. He keeps us teetering on a razor’s edge, all the while dazzling us with a completely rootable rapscallion wit. He makes the dastardly seem delightful. Paltrow is sublime. Like her character, this is her comeback vehicle, but she never takes the easy way out. She shapes and colors a fully lived-in portrait of a wealthy woman in that post-war era, robbed of the happiness she sought through social currency and upward mobility. She beautifully embodies the female antithesis of Marty with vulnerability and strength. A’zion delivers her best work to date, starring as the perfect match for Marty’s challenges. She holds her own against Chalamet’s scamp, expressing an endearing pathos all her own. Géza Röhrig, who plays Marty’s friend and fellow table tennis player Béla Kletzki, also shines, particularly in a tangential aside.

Daniel Lopatin’s score is resplendent. His blossoming compositions register on a similar connective scale to Tangerine Dream’s filmic works. Warm synths swell and abate, sounding not just symphonic, but ethereally hymnal. There’s an enveloping spirituality to its sprightly emotional evocation in scenes ranging from Marty fleeing from cops through back alleys to his late night reunion with Kay in Central Park. Soundtrack cues run mostly anachronistic to the period portrayed. Selected tracks from the 1980s (like Tears For Fears, New Order and Public Image Ltd.) co-mingle nicely with those from the 1950’s, as both were chaotic eras filled with innovation and promise, qualities reflective of our hero. But perhaps the best needle drop is positioned up front with Alphaville’s “Forever Young,” as it complements one of the most inspired opening credits sequences since LOOK WHO’S TALKING.

Safdie, who pulls triple duty as co-editor, and Bronstein keep the picture’s pace snappy with a thrusting, forward-moving momentum and fluidity. Darius Khondji’s cinematography is bright, encapsulating our scrappy antihero’s outlook on life. Lens flares accompany subtle emotional responses from the characters, evoking a cinematic language. Jack Fisk’s production design immerses us in the time period and the claustrophobia of the environments our protagonists and antagonists inhabit. Just as its hero strives to be progressive and innovative, Safdie and company have crafted a spirited, audacious new classic.

Grade: A+

MARTY SUPREME opens in theaters nationwide on December 25.