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The funniest part of Marty Supreme isn't the movie; it's the marketing. Timothée Chalamet spent months dressing like a 1950s hustler and doing 'fake' marketing meetings just to sell a movie about ping-pong. It proves that in 2026, the 'persona' is more important than the plot. The movie is fine, but the vibes are what sold tickets. It’s the ultimate Gen Z blockbuster: style over substance, but the style is so good you almost don't care.

Am I the only one who got a headache watching Marty Supreme? The pacing is a disaster. It’s 2.5 hours of people screaming over each other in 1950s New York accents with zero room to breathe. And can we talk about the Kevin O'Leary (Shark Tank) casting? Seeing 'Mr. Wonderful' play a serious villain took me completely out of the movie. It felt like an SNL sketch with a $70 million budget. Chalamet is great, but the movie is an exhausting sensory overload that thinks it's deeper than it is.

Timothée Chalamet winning the Golden Globe for Marty Supreme is the best thing to happen to cinema this year. Finally, we are rewarding a performance that is purely unhinged energy instead of 'Oscar bait' weeping. His portrayal of Marty Mauser is electric—he talks a mile a minute, sweats through 50 shirts, and makes ping-pong feel like life or death. Josh Safdie has created a masterpiece of anxiety. If you couldn't handle the stress of Uncut Gems, stay home, but don't call it 'bad' just because your heart rate went up. This is cinema.