A lot of times after I watch a movie, I find myself reflecting on the film and engaging in my favorite cinematic thought exercise; I like to think about which movie I would pair this movie with for a double feature. The juxtaposition of two films with similar themes can really spark up a conversation around the similarities and differences in each film’s themes, narratives, and aesthetics. Now that I’m blogging, I figured I’d use this platform to share some of these musings with this world. So, let’s have an in-depth discussion of Marty Supreme, Whiplash and the hollow folies of greatness.
“Marty Supreme” (2025) is a Josh Safdie directed movie about Marty Mauser, a young table tennis player, who will not be deterred from his pursuit of athletic greatness. Marty, who is portrayed by Timothée Chalamet, starts the films with a comfortable, normal life as a shoe salesman working for his uncle who has intentions of setting up Marty as management for his business. He is engaged in romantic trysts with his married friend Rachel Mizler. He has a life that many people would be happy with but despite this Marty cannot help but dream of more than retail work; he cannot bear the thought of going through the rest of his life as just a shoe salesman. Everyone in his life does not understand why Marty isn’t content with his life and they certainly don’t respect his pursuit of table tennis. Yet, Marty continues his pursuit with reckless abandonment because he is convinced becoming a World Champion will fulfill him, imbuing him with a sense of grandeur and respect he so desperately craves.
After blowing off work and taking a 5-hours lunch, Marty returns to work to encounter his first major obstacle in the film. His uncle has left for the day without paying Marty the $700 dollars in wages owed to him. Marty selfishly decides to steal his withheld pay at gunpoint because he is so focused on plating in table tennis in the British Open that he is willing to steal from his uncle to get there. Once Marty arrives in London, he is nonplussed by his accommodations and decides to take it with International Table Tennis Federation’s commissioner Seth Rami. Marty uses his fast-talking schemes and sheer tenacity to get the ITTF to put him up in the Ritz-Carlton hotel. Up until this point in the movie, Marty has not come up against any adversity in table tennis that we couldn’t handle; this all changes when he meets Koto Endo from Japan. Koto Endo is a true foil to Marty Mauser. Marty is this loud brash American who plays for fame and glory who is not above knavish dealings to get what he wants; Endo is this meek, deaf Japanese player who approaches the sport with a calm, laser-like focus. Endo’s calculated play was focused on using varied serves and exceptional ball control, which was aided by his use of a sponge padded paddle, prove too much for Marty to handle and Endo easily routes Marty when they meet in the finals. Marty is unable to gracefully admit defeat, blaming the loss on the Endo’s equipment which Marty claims gave Endo an unfair advantage, rather than admit that he was bettered on the court. This loss is devastating for Marty because he had placed so much of his self-worth into his table tennis abilities. This loss to Endo causes Marty intense emotional distress and he becomes obsessed with defeating Endo in a rematch, even more so than his obsession with becoming a World Champion.
As the film plays out, we see Marty lie, steal, and cheat, in an attempt to get the money he needs to go to Japan for his rematch with Endo and all the while his decisions are leaving a wake of destruction that eventually envelopes everyone around him including his friends and loved ones. Marty is unable to square the ITTF imposed fines for his abuse of the amenities at the Ritz-Carlton hotel, which leads to him being banned from playing in this year’s table tennis world championship. In a desperate attempt to raise the funds to pay his ITTF fines, Marty agrees to a promotional exhibition match with Endo where he is scripted to lose. At the exhibition Marty runs into Mr. Rami, the ITFF commissioner, who tells him that it is too late for Marty to be admitted to the tournament for the world championship as the bracketing had already been completed. After losing as planned to Endo in the exhibition, Marty cannot stomach the humiliation and reveals that the game was scripted. Marty uses his coercive charm to get the crowd riled up as they demand a real match. Reluctantly, Endo agrees to match after being goaded into by Marty. In a close 22-20 game Marty achieves the most Pyrrhic of victories, reclaiming a small part of his sense of self but at a staggering social and financial cost.
The film had me on the edge of my seat throughout its runtime due to its frenetic pacing. I was continuously shocked, as I watched Marty’s consistent desecration of common decency. Marty is unphased by the chaos he is creating and consistently exploits all his interpersonal connections, in his continued desperate effort to reclaim his pride and sense of self through victory. As the film was building to its climatic rematch between Marty and Endo, I found myself thinking “He is doing all of this for table tennis? That sport was at best, mildly respected during the height of its popularity. Why does he want this so bad?”. My mind continued pondering these questions, as the film reels continued to play and before I knew it the credits began to roll. After the film, I took some time to catch my breath and gather my thoughts, and as I began to think about the film’s themes another film jumped into my mind, “Whiplash” (2014).
“Whiplash” is a Damien Chazelle directed movie about Andrew Neiman, a jazz drummer, who is attending the prestigious Shaffer Music Conservatory with dreams of achieving legendary greatness like his idol Buddy Rich. Andrew, who is portrayed by Miles Teller, has a life full of kind and supportive people like his dad who are encouraging him to follow his passion for music because they want Andrew to be happy. For Andrew though, anything less than becoming a jazz legend is unacceptable. He craves the validation of his skills, and he thinks getting invited to play in Shaffer’s studio band would prove he has what it takes to pursue his dreams. Shaffer’s studio band is directed by Terence Fletcher, who is renowned in equal measure for the exacting demands he places on his players and his brash, confrontational leadership style.
During a late-night practice session Neiman has a chance encounter with Fletcher, where Fletcher engages in some light mind games to test Neiman’s receptiveness to his radical teaching style. Sensing he was now on Fletcher’s radar as a candidate for the open studio band alternate drummer spot, Andrew begins pushing himself even harder practicing the double-time swing Fletcher mentioned. Later that week Andrew’s practice yields dividends, as Fletcher holds an impromptu try-out for studio band in the middle of his band class; Fletcher seems impressed by Neiman’s double-time swing and extends an invitation for him to join the studio band.
The following Monday, Andrew shows up to his first practice with the studio band at the time Fletcher gave him, only to discover he is several hours early. The mind games continue as Fletcher opens the rehearsal by belittling to Andrew in front of the whole band. Fletcher then demonstrates his power over Neiman by lashing out his trombone section for being out of tune; he then coerces a false confession and resignation from the band by his fourth chair even though he knew the first chair was the person playing out of tune. After they finish the playthrough of the song, he sends the band on break so he can talk to Andrew. He asks him some questions about his background with music and gives him some encouragement to just go in there and give it his best shot. Upon returning the band is asked to play the song again, but this time at a slower tempo. Neiman struggles to adjust to the Tempo change and Fletcher uses this as an opportunity to reduce him to tears and humiliate him in front of his new peers. Undetered by this dressing down, Neiman practices his drumming with the songs in the studio band repertoire for hours until his hands start blistering and bleeding.
This dedication pays off with Neiman getting the opportunity to step into the lead drummer role after a mishap leaves the drum section without sheet music during a competition and Neiman is the only drummer who has all the songs memorized. Andrew’s taste of success is short lived though, with Fletcher bringing another alternate drummer to challenge for the core drummer role. This increased pressure and demands are getting to Neiman who breaks up with his girlfriend because he cannot afford the distraction; later we see Andrew lash out at his father while they are dining with his father’s boss and family embarrassing them both. Through sheer grit and tenacity Neiman’s is able to ward off the challenger to his chair and keep his spot but at what cost.
During the studio band’s next competition, it is Neiman’s turn to suffer the slings and arrows of misfortune, as a transportation issue derail his ability to perform at the level Fletcher demands leading to Neiman’s dismissal from not only the studio band but from the school itself. After Neiman’s dismissal from the Shaffer Music Conservatory, he is approached by a lawyer looking for people to give deposition on Terence Fletcher’s alleged abuse of his students; she is investigating Fletcher after a recent suicide note from one of his former students has brought the allegations into the light. Andrew agrees to give the deposition which gets Fletcher fired and begins to try and move forward with his life. Over the next few months, Andrew gets a job, an apartment, and establishes some semblance of normalcy away from being a musician. On a walk in Andrew’s new neighborhood, he sees Terence Fletcher’s name on the marquee for a jazz club and decides to see how his former teacher is doing. After reconnecting over drinks, Fletcher invites Neiman to perform in a show Fletcher is conducting for the JVC Festival. Andrew Neiman, who has only ever wanted to be a jazz musician, agrees to the gig because deep down he misses music. At the JVC Festival concert, Fletcher tells Neiman he knows it was Neiman’s fault he got fired right before the performance begins. Fletcher opens the performance with a song Neiman has never heard before attempting to humiliate him and snuff his jazz career once and for all. Neiman struggles to follow along and fumbles his way through the song. Refusing to give up his dream and unable to separate his sense of self from his music, Neiman decides to strike back at Fletcher by beginning to drum and cuing the band into playing the song they prepared. In this battle of wills, under the bright lights of biggest stage Andrew Neiman has ever played on, he delivers the performance of his life.
So why do I think Marty Supreme and Whiplash are interesting films to compare? Well, both films begin with men who are setting out to be the best in their niche field. Both Andrew and Marty have sunk their entire identity, self-esteem, and sense of worth into their pursuits of greatness. I think one of the key differences is the authorial intent of the directors. I think Josh Safdie goes to great lengths to show Marty’s behavior as reprehensible. There is a toll be paid for Marty’s bad decisions and it is paid in blood, money and aggravation by his friends, family and associates. After all the pain and suffering Marty causes in his pursuit of greatness, what does he have to show for it? In the end of the movie instead of becoming a world champion and experiencing the potentially life changing money that could have come from that Marty instead chooses to give up his meager $1,500 payday from exhibition for a chance to proof he is a great table tennis player. I don’t think anyone is walking out Marty Supreme aspiring to be like the titular lead.
Contrast this with Whiplash, which when it came out 11 years ago, was criticized by some for ending with Andrew Neiman having this breakthrough performance, achieving both success and getting the validation of his abusive mentor Fletcher. These people believed that showing Andrew succeed validate the abuse Fletcher put him through and portrayed a damaging message for society. I’ve never really seen it that way, as I think Whiplash subtly shows that Fletcher and Neiman are closer aligned than we initially realize. While Neiman’s behavior never gets as extreme as Fletcher, he is shown throughout the film to lash out at loved ones and to so intently focus on his performance that he is physically harming himself. When they are discussing Fletcher’s radical behavior at Shaffer before the JVC Festival, Neiman initially objects to Fletcher’s techniques but by the end seems to accept them. It is not hard to belief that if Neiman was placed in a leadership position that he might continue to perpetuate the cycle of abuse he endured.
When discussing “Whiplash” with some of the young men in my life, I was disappointed to hear that many of them have misconstrued the film as aspirational, due to a surface level reading of the film’s themes and messages. In my opinion, “Whiplash” is a film that is trying So often in film, especially when there is authorial intent to use the film’s narrative as a parable or cautionary tale, there are many members of the general audience that are blind to the film’s subtext and subjacent themes. I think this is because these members of general audience mistakenly believe that every protagonist is traditionally heroic. Sometimes a film’s core character is either a bad person or a person making bad choices. This is called being an anti-hero.
So, what is the point of anti-hero and why are they so commonly misunderstood by the audience? It is not uncommon for an anti-hero to lack subjectivity, choosing to tell the story from their particular perspective; the recounting of events by these unreliable point of view characters will omit details or outright lie to the audience, only for the film to implicitly or explicitly expose that lie later. An unreliable narrator further muddles the messaging of the film because it requires the general audience to actively question the narrative, discerning the truths from fiction that the point of view character is spinning.
These anti-heroes are not supposed to be aspirational and yet there are members of the audience that are totally on their side and see these characters’ bad decisions as justified in the pursuit of their goals. When the audience aligns and agrees with an anti-hero they are missing the purpose of the story. The purpose of a parable is to convey one’s cultural values through a narrative; when telling a parable, the authorial intent is for the audience to see the characters mistakes and bad choices for what they are and heed the warning that this kind of behavior is unacceptable in this culture.
Since the point of a parable is to convey cultural norms, it is possible for an anti-hero from a bygone era to become more of traditionally heroic protagonist as a society’s cultural norms and values shift over time. As members of the audience experience life, going on their own journeys of character growth, their relationship with media can change. I know I certainly misread many films’ protagonists as traditionally heroic in my youth, only to see the truth of these narratives upon revisiting them with perspective later in life.
Whiplash’s protagonist is an ambiguous anti-hero because while Andrew Neiman’s choices are reckless, selfish, short-sighted and alienating to his friends and family, they also echo the cultural narrative that great figures in our society must pursue their goals at all costs and that nothing short of complete and total commitment to that pursuit will result in said greatness. This cultural narrative downplays the roll that luck and forces outside of our control play on our outcomes in life and omits the true cost of these pursuits is an isolate lonely existence, because when you’re willing to sacrifice anything for your goal, it’s the people we care about that pay those costs and ultimately get pushed out of our lives as an outcome of our choices.
So maybe it’s not surprising that so many people see Neiman’s relentless pursuit of greatness at all costs as an inspirational; I hope for their sake that someday they realize that “Whiplash” (2014) is a cautionary tale and that pursuing greatness like Andrew Neiman, will only leave them empty and unfulfilled because greatness in one’s work alone cannot validate you, love you or make you feel whole. While one could misread Whiplash’s Andrew Neiman as an ambiguously virtuous protagonist, I think it is impossible to read Marty Supreme’s protagonist, Marty Masuer, as anything but an anti-hero.
Marty Supreme ends with Marty appearing to set aside his empty pursuit of greatness and embrace of the higher calling of being a father. Prior to this in third act of the film has seen Marty suffer multiple humiliations and has had multiple powerful figures try to shatter Marty’s delusions of greatness; so much so that it leaves the audience in a state of lingering doubt about his new found contrition and if Marty will be able to set aside his overinflated sense of self and embrace a simpler life as a shoe salesmen and father.
Whiplash ends with Neiman overcoming Fletcher’s attempt to humiliate him as revenge for getting him fired by using his role as the drummer, the tempo setter of any Jazz band, to reshape the rendition around himself and deliver a performance that is undeniably great; he has gotten everything he wants but Whiplash leaves the audience wondering if the cost of greatness was worth it and if the validation and achievement will ring true for Neiman.
It has been my experience in life that when we over invest our sense of self-worth and identity into our work it tends to hollow out our achievements and leaves us in a persistent vulnerable state because you are dependent on the validation of other people’s perception of your work. In the last few years, I’ve really been working on redefining my relationship with work; I’m trying to objectively evaluate my work with personal criteria and avoid constantly comparing my work to my peers.
Both endings emphasize the importance of having a strong interior life that is separate from the subjective opinions of others. When you over invest yourself into your work, it leaves with you an emptiness that no external validation can fill. Starting this blog was an important step for me because it has helped me find a purpose and an outlet outside of my professional life. For years, I’ve tied up so much of my self-worth and self-esteem in my career and in the opinions of others; 18 months ago I had a personal crisis when I realized that I was a workaholic and that no matter how much time and energy I pour into my career it will never validate me and leave me feeling whole. With this blog, I’m doing creative work that I find personally fulfilling. I’m creating for me and that’s enough.