Marty Supreme

Marty Supreme

01/01/2026

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Our first film of 2026 was supposed to be our last film of 2025. But we were in North Wales where, for some inexplicable reason, Marty Supreme simply wasn’t yet available in cinemas and we were obliged to watch The Housemaid instead. So obviously, when it came time to start the process anew, there was only one logical choice.

It’s clear from the opening scenes that Josh Safdie’s frenetic odyssey about ambitious young table tennis player, Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet), is going to be something very special. The titular character is loosely based on a real-life ping pong star, the late Marty Reisman – though whether the man who inspired this story was the swaggering, single-minded, motor-mouthed huckster portrayed here is up for debate. 

Certainly, many of the incidents portrayed in the script – co-written by Safdie and Ronald Bronstein – echo real life events, though the filmmakers are quick to point out that it’s all fictional.

When we first encounter Marty, he’s grudgingly working at his Uncle Murray’s shoe shop in New York City. This is solely to fund his upcoming journey to England, where he’ll be competing in the 1952 World Table Tennis Championship. He’s also enjoying a clandestine affair with Rachel (Odessa A’zion), an unhappily-married woman who works in the shop next door, and whom Marty soon manages to impregnate. In fact, we actually witness this biological process over the film’s opening credits.

Once at the championships, Marty hooks up with former movie actress, Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow). He sees her as a possible source of funding for his future endeavours and, after a swift telephone seduction, he enjoys a quick dalliance with her. Her husband is wealthy industrialist Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’ Leary), a manufacturer of fountain pens.

Meanwhile, as the ping pong tournament progresses, Marty easily vanquishes all the opposing players until, in the final, he’s matched against Japanese player, Koto Endo (Koto Kawaguchi). The newcomer’s idiosyncratic style of play utterly throws Marty. He loses the match and is obliged to return to America humiliated – but his determination to win turns into an overwhelming obsession…

To label Marty Supreme as ‘a film about table tennis’ would be something of an understatement. Yes, it is that – and the many sequences that depict the sport are undeniably gripping – but it’s also a multi-faceted examination of ambition, greed and the almost pathological need to win at all costs. Chalamet has always been an accomplished actor but here he delivers a performance of such staggering intensity, it just might be the one that finally steers him in the direction of that coveted Oscar podium.

I also want to mention production designer Jack Fisk, who came out of retirement for this film, and captures the dark squalor of 1950s America with exceptional skill. A technical Oscar for his work would also seem a likely fit.

As for the director, anyone who saw Uncut Gems – which Safdie co-directed with his brother, Benny – will know that he has a penchant for ramping up anxiety to almost unbearable levels. That quality is certainly very much in evidence here as the film careers from one stress-inducing set piece to the next, barely allowing me time to draw breath. The movie is also packed with legions of oddball characters who surge onto the screen, capture my interest and just as swiftly vanish. The film is sometimes weird, occasionally startling and always heart-stoppingly brilliant.

If the self-aggrandising Marty isn’t the kind of character who usually inspires a viewer’s allegiance (he’s self-centred and utterly convinced of his own talent), Safdie is wise enough to surround him with even more despicable people, chief among them oily fat-cat Rockwell, who, at one point, takes the greatest pleasure in humiliating Marty for the entertainment of his friends. The result is that I’m always rooting for our antihero, even when I’m horrified at the depths he’s prepared to sink to.

This is quite simply a gobsmacking film – and I have no doubts whatsoever that it’s destined to feature in our ‘best of’ list for 2026. Make sure you catch it where it belongs, on the biggest screen you can find.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

The Housemaid

28/12/25

Strand Cinema, Rhyl

It’s the dying days of 2025 and, mostly due to an apparent absence of Marty Supreme in Wales, we plump for The Housemaid as our post-Christmas watch. Directed by Paul Feig and adapted by Rebecca Sonnenshine (from Freida McFadden’s 2022 novel), The Housemaid is a twisty-turny sado-thriller, where everything’s dialled up to 11 and any hint of subtlety has gone straight through the nearest attic window. This isn’t necessarily a criticism, so much as an observation.

Millie Calloway (Sydney Sweeney) is desperately seeking employment. Ten years into a fifteen-year prison sentence (it’s a long time before we find out what she actually did to get there), she’s been released on good behaviour and is now living in her car and finding work where she can. When she lands an interview as housemaid at the swanky residence of the Winchester family, she’s desperate to get the job, though her expectations are understandably low.

Her potential employer, Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried), seems like the perfect easygoing boss, though Nina’s daughter Cerce (Indiana Elle) gives every indication of being a sour little grump-bucket. Nina’s husband, Andrew (Brandon Sklenar), on the other hand, seems like a regular saint: handsome, ripped and blessed with a perfect grin. But no sooner has Millie landed the job of her dreams than Nina starts to reveal a very different side to her personality. She’s prone to flying into angry fits and taking every opportunity to make Millie look bad in front of her friends.

And then the first of several major plot twists occurs and it becomes clear that nothing in this scenario is quite as straightforward as it initially appears…

Okay, so The Housemaid isn’t destined to win any prizes for nuance, preferring instead to keep upping the ante at every opportunity, joyfully ramping up the anxiety, the sadism and the nasty injury detail. (Delicate viewers may feel compelled to look away at key moments.) The central trio offer colourful interpretations of their roles, with Seyfried in particular revelling with relish in Nina’s unfettered gear changes, and just about managing to stop herself from chewing the scenery.

If some of the story’s later developments test my credulity, well, at least I’m never bored and – as the film thunders into its final furlong – I find myself laughing out loud at its absurdities. Rhyl’s new Strand Cinema offers customers a choice of five crystal-sharp screens with clean, loud Dolby stereo and plenty of legroom. Those looking to blow away the post-prandial fug of too much Xmas excess, may find this to be just the ticket.

3.5 stars

Philip Caveney