Antihero Marty Supreme is sociopathic in his pursuit of glory. Why do we want him to win?

Marty Supreme is a frenetic tale inspired by Marty Reisman, the charismatic American table tennis champion of the 1950s.

Charged by Timothée Chalamet’s electric lead performance – alongside a stellar supporting cast (including Gwyneth Paltrow), and director Josh Safdie’s signature, anxiety-inducing aesthetic – the film captures a young man’s all-or-nothing quest for greatness.

Marty Mauser is a morally ambiguous protagonist with a sociopathic, self-obsessed pursuit of glory. But Safdie invites the audience to champion his quest. In this, Marty emerges as a particularly compelling entry into Hollywood’s longstanding tradition of unlikable heroes.

Marty follows in the footsteps of other Safdie antiheroes – the reckless Howard Retnar (Adam Sandler) of Uncut Gems (2019) and the manipulative Connie Nikas (Robert Pattinson) of Good Time (2017). His do-or-die attitude stems from the ambition to escape his circumstances.

A Jewish kid from New York’s Lower East Side, he works at his uncle’s shoe store in order to fund his global table tennis ambitions. Refusing to listen to those around him, Marty seems aware that his self-delusion and performativity will ultimately propel him to success.

Marty compulsively lies, commits petty theft and willingly disregards the wellbeing of those close to him to fulfil what he believes to be his destiny.

Despite his problematic moral compass, Safdie’s protagonist ultimately wins over the audience’s support.

The Hollywood antihero

Hollywood is no stranger to popular antiheroes, from Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver (1976) to Arthur Fleck in Joker (2019). The Safdie brothers focus on recognisably ordinary characters caught in the chaos of their everyday existence.

Marty Supreme is Josh Safdie’s first solo directorial project since parting ways with his brother Benny. The pair have long been fascinated with figures who, despite their moral shortcomings, are inherently human.

The signature Safdie arc appeared in their indie film Daddy Longlegs (2009). Loosely based on Josh and Benny’s own experiences with their divorced father, the film crafts an honest, sympathetic portrait of a highly irresponsible (yet loving) parent trying to do his best.

In an emblematic action, Lenny (Ronald Bronstein) gives one of his sons a sleeping pill in order to allow him to return to his job at a local cinema. The misguided and neglectful act is still shown as a genuine attempt to keep his son safe and out of harm’s way.

Lenny’s traits of misdirected affection are observed throughout the Safdie protagonists.

Following an unsuccessful robbery, Good Time’s Connie frantically attempts to break his developmentally disabled brother, Nicky (Benny Safdie), out of prison and a psychiatric facility.

In Uncut Gems, Howard is driven by greed and lust but demonstrates a genuine care for his family, repeatedly insisting his ambitions are guided by the need to provide for them.

Like Lenny, Howard and Connie, Marty has the capacity to do what is right and care for those he loves. But his egotistical, self-absorbed quest to gain status ultimately clouds his ability to comprehend the consequences of his actions.

The universality of struggle

How does Josh Safdie succeed in creating a protagonist who – despite lying that his mother died during childbirth and neglecting his pregnant girlfriend – nonetheless wins the audience’s support?

Marty’s championing is undoubtedly in part due to Chalamet’s star-image and onscreen charisma. And his quest for greatness depicts the triumphant tale of a figure who, against all odds, continues to pursue his dreams with obsessive belief.

At its core, Marty Supreme is a stylised, high-octane reworking of the familiar “David versus Goliath” narrative.

Here, “Goliath” evokes both the American Dream and the Immigrant Dream, uphill battles where the odds are stacked against the individual.

This idea is prominent across other Safdie brothers films. In Good Time, “Goliath” is the criminal justice system, shown as a particularly dehumanising institutional structure for marginalised individuals. In Heaven Knows What (2014) – a gritty tale based on Arielle Holmes’s autobiography of addiction, love and struggle – substance dependency is presented as the ultimate obstacle.

Marty’s ambitions of table tennis stardom are neither recognised nor respected by those around him. This drives him to go to greater lengths in order to fund his career.

While his extreme measures may be unsympathetic – and perhaps unforgivable – Marty’s fundamental desire to transcend his circumstances remains relatable.