Marty Mauser (played by the effortlessly magnetic Timothee Chalamet) is an NYC table-tennis player trying to make it to the big time by winning the World Championships in Tokyo, Japan. The problem is he's also a hustler, a thief, and a would-be deadbeat dad and that sort of hinders his Waterloo journey. That's the brief rub of the overtaxing and rather hyperkinetic Marty Supreme. "Marty, I'm gonna make you an offer." Oh boy.
Yup, I've just announced "Supreme" as my top pick for best film of 2025. After viewing it on Xmas day, I assure you its distinctiveness is unparalleled. Remember Steve Carell's Bobby Riggs from Battle of the Sexes or Matt Damon's Mike McDermott from 1998's Rounders? Well Chalamet's Mauser makes those dudes look like choir boys by comparison.
Directed by Manhattan native Josh Safdie, filmed with close-ups and a certain level of graininess and showing an opening clip of a sperm going into an egg (as only the Josh man would want it), Marty Supreme is the cinematic equivalent of a het up dingo getting high on his or her own supply.
So yeah, Safdie fashions "Supreme" as a flawed character study where the so-called hero (Marty Mauser) has to become self-seeking and even criminalistic to achieve his faraway dream. The dialogue is fast-paced and spitfire, the camera whizzes you vehemently from one set piece to the next, and Timothee Chalamet creates a gnat-like persona that seems straight from the dictionary of devil-may-care. "That's just how I grew up." You don't say Timmy boy. You don't say.
All in all, Marty Supreme revels in a techno, 80s soundtrack (even though it's set in 1952), a style from Josh Safdie that channels early Scorsese and Oliver Stone, and a running time of 150 minutes that feels nippy in all its surplus glory. "Ping" Pong identity.
Written by Jesse Burleson
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