Marty Supreme review – Timothée Chalamet a smash in spectacular screwball ping-pong nightmare

Following every dizzying spin of Chalamet’s table tennis hustler, Josh Safdie’s whip-crack comedy serves sensational shots – and a smart return by Gwyneth Paltrow This new film from Josh Safdie has the fanatical energy of a 149-minute ping pong rally carried out by a single player running round and round the table. It’s a marathon sprint of gonzo calamities and uproar, a sociopath-screwball nightmare like something by Mel Brooks – only in place of gags, there are detonations of bad taste, cinephile allusions, alpha cameos, frantic deal-making, racism and antisemitism, sentimental yearning and erotic adventures. It’s a farcical race against time where no one needs to eat or sleep. Timothée Chalamet plays Marty Mauser, a spindly motormouth with the glasses of an intellectual, the moustache of a movie star and the physique of a tiny cartoon character (though that could just be the initials). He’s loosely inspired by Marty “The Needle” Reisman, a real-life US table tennis champ from the ...

Charm Circle review – Grey Gardens-ish portrait of director’s dysfunctional family

Nira Burstein’s documentary focuses on the acutely troubled lives of her closest relations – and it’s not a happy picture

Like so many young artists, film-maker Nira Burstein has taken the advice to write – or in this case, film – what she knows, so for her first feature she’s turned the camera on her own family, a troubled brood from the outer suburbs of New York City. Although Nira holds the camera herself for much of the time, she edits in home movie footage from many years ago which shows how dramatically time and stress have worn the family down.

The Burstein patriarch Uri is definitely a character, either the film’s villain, comic relief or hero depending on where you stand. A former realtor and part-time guitarist, he wears a yarmulke most of the time and invokes his Jewish religious beliefs as an excuse when he doesn’t want to attend the wedding of his daughter Adina, Nira’s sister, to two non-binary people with whom she’s decided to form a lasting throuple. Uri’s wife Raya, a former musician herself, earned a master’s from Columbia and once practised as an occupational therapist. But around the time that eldest daughter Judy, variously diagnosed with Tourette syndrome and obsessive compulsive disorder, became “sick” with unspecified problems, Raya also had a breakdown and checked into a psychiatric facility. Professionals, according to Raya and Uri, have labelled her bipolar or schizophrenic, but Uri at least is less interested in clinical diagnoses than with how to cope with Raya and Judy’s behaviours and complains about them constantly. (He notes that even celebrity physician/neurologist Oliver Sacks examined Judy and couldn’t tell what exactly was wrong with her.)

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