MARTY SUPREME
7.8 / 10
More people raved to me about Marty Supreme than any other this year. It was good, but the hype train let me down.
Marty Supreme tells the story of fictional ping-pong prodigy Marty Mauser, inspired in part by real-life champion Marty Reisman, whose portraits still hang on the walls of Spin New York.
Directed by Josh Safdie in his first feature without brother Benny, Marty Supreme is an entertaining but uneven effort, weighed down by a bloated middle and a meandering subplot involving a gangster and his missing dog.
The central storyline involving Milton Rockwell, and his wife, retired actress Kay Stone, played wonderfully by Gwyneth Paltrow, is genuinely engaging and unfolds with strong pacing. But once the narrative pile-ups compound the film loses momentum. My issue with that subplot isn’t just pacing, it’s thematic. It adds texture, but not meaning, which weakens both the denouement and the resolution of Marty’s central dilemma.
The film pulls its punches with its lack of a larger external force pushing back against its characters. Marty Supreme wants to explore obsession, but it softens the stakes and never truly weaponizes that obsession against Marty.
Safdie has cited The Hustler as a key influence, and the comparison is instructive. What separates The Hustler from other niche sports films is its unflinching examination of human depravity. The depths people will sink to in pursuit of goals that grow increasingly hollow over time. Marty Supreme gestures toward that territory but ultimately pulls back. It offers growth without devastation, which makes it humane, but also less indelible.
My score: 7.8 out of 10. A good time, for sure, but not a classic.
Marty Supreme tells the story of fictional ping-pong prodigy Marty Mauser, inspired in part by real-life champion Marty Reisman, whose portraits still hang on the walls of Spin New York.
Directed by Josh Safdie in his first feature without brother Benny, Marty Supreme is an entertaining but uneven effort, weighed down by a bloated middle and a meandering subplot involving a gangster and his missing dog.
The central storyline involving Milton Rockwell, and his wife, retired actress Kay Stone, played wonderfully by Gwyneth Paltrow, is genuinely engaging and unfolds with strong pacing. But once the narrative pile-ups compound the film loses momentum. My issue with that subplot isn’t just pacing, it’s thematic. It adds texture, but not meaning, which weakens both the denouement and the resolution of Marty’s central dilemma.
The film pulls its punches with its lack of a larger external force pushing back against its characters. Marty Supreme wants to explore obsession, but it softens the stakes and never truly weaponizes that obsession against Marty.
Safdie has cited The Hustler as a key influence, and the comparison is instructive. What separates The Hustler from other niche sports films is its unflinching examination of human depravity. The depths people will sink to in pursuit of goals that grow increasingly hollow over time. Marty Supreme gestures toward that territory but ultimately pulls back. It offers growth without devastation, which makes it humane, but also less indelible.
My score: 7.8 out of 10. A good time, for sure, but not a classic.