For a film about table tennis, Josh Safdie’s “Marty Supreme” includes remarkably little table tennis.
It’s a dizzying, disorienting and fast-paced film about fictional table tennis star Marty Mauser, a Jewish man living in New York in the 1950s. Mauser is an irresponsible, womanizing jerk. At the beginning of the movie, he impregnates another man’s wife, and mocks a fellow player who survived a concentration camp — not the kind of guy you usually root for in a sports film. But “Marty Supreme” is no ordinary sports feature, and that’s the root of its artistry and charm.
While many of its “sports prodigy” movie compatriots begin with our hero discovering a talent, proving themselves, getting swept up in fame and learning their lesson before ultimately winning the big game, “Marty Supreme” scrambles the cliche, borrowing some elements but twisting and rearranging them.
Mauser’s rival, Koto Endo, is clearly better suited to be the protagonist of a sports film. He’s a deaf man from a small Japanese village, fighting an uphill battle to redeem his country in the eyes of the world. But he’s not our protagonist, Marty Mauser is, and he’s the athlete table tennis needs and the “champion” America deserves.
“Marty Supreme” begins with Mauser already on top, then losing to Endo at the British Open. He’ll have a chance for a rematch, though, at the World Championship in Japan, if he can find a way to fund his trip. He’s too broke to afford the trip on its own, and in debt from a fraudulent stay at the Ritz Carlton instead of the players’ barracks.
The story follows Mauser’s various get rich quick schemes and their spectacular failures. It’s brutal, and Timothée Chalamet, who plays Mauser, gave an excellent performance throughout the whole film.
Mauser has the opportunity near the beginning of the film to partner with Milton Rockwell, played by real-life rich man and “Shark Tank” host Kevin O’Leary, the billionaire CEO of a pen company. Rockwell wants to host a promotion rematch between Mauser and Endo to increase his pen sales abroad. He’ll pay Mauser handsomely, but Mauser would have to lose the match. Stubborn, Mauser refuses — instead, he tries every trick in the book.
He hustles, steals, burgles, all in an attempt to gain funds. He even tries to rob Rockwell’s wife, Kay Stone — a faded starlette trying to recapture her glory — by seducing her and pretending to like her play.
One of the strongest throughlines is a black dog named Moses who belongs to the crime boss Ezra Mishkin. Mauser is supposed to take the dog to the vet, but instead loses Moses, leading to his desperate search to find Moses and cash in on an assumed large reward.
Moses is, of course, named after the biblical figure who led the Israelites out of Egypt to freedom, but a black dog is also a symbol for bad luck. It’s a little on the nose to watch Mauser chase after misfortune disguised as freedom, but the film is sufficiently sporadic enough that the metaphor never feels too ham-fisted. It took me a while to “get” the dog part, but once I did, the film clicked for me.
Another strong image that really stuck with me were the orange ping pong balls. They’re introduced in the beginning as Mauser’s idea, being easier to track than white balls. He even convinces his friend’s father to invest in them. But in the end, “Marty Supreme” uses the balls to deliver a clear message: this film isn’t going to go the way you’re expecting.
I enjoyed the film immensely as a deconstruction of a success story, but I see why some people are off-put by it. I walked out of the film thinking to myself, “Jesus, all that just to play ping pong.”
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But that is the point of the film; it’s ultimately a piece on how far we’re willing to go, and how hard we’re willing to work for things that don’t really matter all that much. O’Leary as Rockwell delivers a line near the end of the film, mostly-but-maybe-not jokingly saying “I was born in 1601. I'm a vampire. I've been around forever. I've met many Marty Mausers over the centuries.”
It’s true — how many obsessions get swallowed up by a lack of funding?
Mauser’s table tennis, Moses the dog, Stone’s play — none of it matters in the universe’s grand scheme. But these things feel big because we love them. If there’s money to be made, and you get very lucky, you might be able to convince others to care about it too. But rarely is anyone so lucky. It’s not like table tennis ever really took off.
Addison Fulton is the culture editor for the Daily Lobo. She can be reached at culture@dailylobo.com or on X @dailylobo
