Marty Supreme

A breathless con-man epic dismantling the myth of the American Dream

The unmasking of “the American Dream” as one in which people have to con their way to the top is a thesis American cinema has explored before, going as far back as The Sting (1973) or Paper Moon (1973). These films emerged in the 1970s, during a moment of backlash and activism against American idealism shaped by Vietnam and a revived anti-capitalist fervor. American filmmaking was broken into by young, upstart directors willing to explore the dark and gritty American underbelly, such as Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, or Brian De Palma. We seem to be going through a similar moment of activism and political sentiment now, with an exciting filmmaker, Josh Safdie, adding to this thesis of American Dream cons with Marty Supreme (2025).

Marty Supreme takes place in 1952 and follows Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet), a shoe salesman in New York who is incredibly talented at table tennis. He competes in international tournaments, but due to the low paydays he receives, is forced to continue scamming his way through American life: falling into an affair with millionaire Milton Rockwell’s (Kevin O’Leary) wife, Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow); shuttling around his neighborhood lover Rachel (Odessa A’zion), whom he has secretly gotten pregnant; and attempting to scam bettors with ping-pong tricks alongside his taxi-driver friend Wally (Tyler, the Creator). All the while, Marty is never deterred in his belief that he is destined for worldwide fame and wealth.

This is Josh Safdie’s first solo directing effort after his break with his co-director brother Benny. Benny delivered the enjoyable, if wandering, solo effort The Smashing Machine (2025) earlier, but Josh seems to have retained the energy and fervor of the duo. Marty Supreme clocks in at two and a half hours, and yet, much like Good Time (2017) or Uncut Gems (2019), the film maintains such a frenetic pace and steady flow that there is never a moment to glance at your watch or grow bored. That said, it is not as exhaustingly stressful as Uncut Gems, even though Marty appears to be holding his life together moment to moment with Scotch tape.

It is this constant instability and inability to secure enough money for his trips and tournament appearances that forms the crux of Marty Supreme, presenting Marty as a hustler in a perpetual attempt to squeeze out an extra buck or two by any means necessary. Yet Marty is blinded by his ambition and ideological belief in his inevitable success, treating these acts as mere footnotes in his future biography. Safdie brilliantly illustrates the buy-in to the “American Dream” lie, showcasing Marty’s arrogance alongside his success.

The stumbling-just-to-survive-the-next-moment structure is what made Good Time and Uncut Gems so propulsive, and Safdie is right not to tamper with a winning formula, allowing us to marvel at the fact that Marty is still somehow standing, with a chance at achieving his goal. Along the way, the film is populated with picaresque characters who present dilemmas for Marty; either as pure obstacles, such as Rockwell, or as moral quandaries, such as abandoning pregnant Rachel or skimming money from Wally to pursue his professional dream. Safdie also powerfully illustrates the obsession and tragedy of how the American way of life reduces people to molding a career as an identity, often at the expense of relationships and family. This approach is sometimes played for comedic effect, but always allows the dramatic point to land.

Marty Supreme functions in many ways like The Brutalist (2024), showing the mercy—or lack thereof—at which ambition stands when confronted with entrenched wealth. Both films offer their protagonists a choice between humiliating patronage and precarious dignity. This is further emphasized by the film’s setting: a 1952 America riding high off its victory in World War II and the ensuing postwar economic boom. Yet even in this “great America” that some politicians claim to want to return to, the contradictions, inequalities, and entrenched capitalist power structures are already firmly in place. No matter how talented Marty may be at table tennis, sheer will and meritocracy may not be enough.

Safdie bathes the film in the glow of the 1950s. The costuming, makeup, and set design are all executed with particular care and thematic intention. The set design especially stood out, depicting a New York cluttered with trash bags and street litter, a refreshingly realistic touch. At the same time, Safdie brings a distinctly 1970s sensibility to the film, visible in the rapid-fire dialogue, restless camera, and even the color palette. The table tennis matches are filmed with striking precision, granting them the same intensity and tension as a Rocky fight and conveying every play and point with clarity.

What may strike audiences most about Marty Supreme, however, is its casting. The film is filled with a wildly eclectic mix of cameos and supporting roles, yet the approach works to perfection. Safdie assembles such distinct faces that the world feels populated by real people rather than polished Los Angeles models. These cameos range from NBA players to David Mamet, Philippe Petit (the high-wire artist), fashion designers, and most notably O’Leary, who occupies a supporting role. Known as an entrepreneur and “Shark” on Shark Tank (2009–), O’Leary delivers a truly slimy performance, remarkable in both its calibration and naturalism. These unusual casting choices pair seamlessly with the central performances. A’zion continues her streak of breakout roles after her chaotic energy in I Love LA (2025–), here showcasing a dramatic side that begs for further exploration. Paltrow, meanwhile, makes something of a return to acting (aside from sporadic Marvel appearances) with a character who is equal parts shrewd and gullible.

The centrifugal force of the entire film, though, is Chalamet, who with each new role cements himself as not just a generational talent, but a singular one. He is indomitable, maintaining an intensity, pace, and commitment so total that he disappears into the role. I fully bought into Marty’s idealism and narcissism as he refuses to acknowledge the setbacks placed in his path. It is a chaotic performance, requiring constant emotional pivots from scene to scene. The final moments alone synthesize the film’s themes, delivering a wordless conclusion whose power and transcendence recall Chalamet’s final gaze in Call Me by Your Name (2017).

In the end, Marty Supreme feels like an instant classic in many respects. It functions as a sports film, but is far more invested in interrogating the contradictions of American class, ambition, and ideology, ultimately operating as a demasking character study. With impeccable technical craftsmanship, a pounding score, inspired needle drops, and exquisite performances across the board, Marty Supreme deserves to be counted among the very best films of 2025.

9.3/10