Culture editor Keyuri Gawde explores how the marketing campaign of Marty Supreme leverages star persona in a fast moving industry
Timothée Chalamet plasters his Instagram story with photographs of various sports stars, each image stamped with a large, orange, handwritten injunction: Dream Big. Under this earnest yet faintly absurd phrase are echoes of the American Dream, towering over the expansive press run for Marty Supreme. Josh Safdie’s newest film has emerged with one of the most memorable marketing campaigns in recent years, and Chalamet stands at its centre as both architect and exhibit.
Reactions towards Chalamet’s recent shift in star persona proved divisive. Some welcome the departure from the romantic, introspective figure that once defined him, embracing instead his turn toward an ironically framed pop-culture spectacle. Others criticise this move as excessive, an image edging uncomfortably close to arrogance. It’s the sort of dramatic transformation reminiscent of Joaquin Phoenix’s prolonged “retirement” from prestige actor to a rapper, a performance meticulously sustained for his mockumentary I’m Still Here. Though I’d be hesitant to draw a direct equivalence between the two, their resemblance lies less in content than in intent.
This likeness only sharpens after watching Marty Supreme. The film crystallizes a suspicion already seeded by Chalamet’s social meda presence: that the Timothée we’ve been encountering online is not entirely himself, but a rehearsal or even extension of Marty Mauser. A persona stretched across platforms that collapses the boundary between actor and character, calling into question the blurring of lines between performance and authenticity, with the latter becoming a role itself.
Marty’s characterisation, while not entirely likeable, is undeniably compelling. His quick wit and unfiltered narcissism weave a thread of increasingly poor decisions, each one propelled by the certainty that greatness is not only possible, but owed to him. He selfishly imagines his journey as a solitary hustle, as though he alone harbours ambition. The terminology with which he chooses to frame himself is saturated with self-reliance and unyielding determination. It evokes the familiar cadences of the Hollywood sports biopic, where talent alone seems enough to rise the ranks, buoyed by the rhetoric of the American Dream which favours independence and individual ascent above all else.
But Safdie flips this ideology on its head, as the consequences of entirely embodying it begin to bleed through with Marty’s overbearing egotism brought to light. Whether or not this serves as a criticism of Mauser’s failures as an individual or the failures of the American Dream as a whole, one thing becomes abundantly clear: talent alone is not enough.
Almost every relationship or interaction in Mauser’s life is rendered transactional. If he doesn’t need you then keeping you around becomes an obstacle in his pursuit of greatness. Marty’s friendship with Wally is founded on the latter being a facilitator of his dream, for example, helping him swindle people out of their money to pay off a $1,500 fine for the World Championships. When Marty’s actions become increasingly reckless, leading to a gas station catching on fire, losing a dog, and damage to his friend’s car, Wally expresses hesitation and concern. Mauser responds to this by reframing it as small-mindedness, eventually treating his friend and collaborator as expendable. Furthermore, his affair with Hollywood star Kay is an attempt to climb the social ladder and ultimately gain access to her husband Milton Rockwell, a wealthy businessman who becomes pivotal in Mauser’s fate. The significant emotional relationship in the film is perhaps Rachel, a childhood friend now in an unhappy marriage who also has an affair with Mauser. He looks towards her for sex and reassurance of his self image, subconsciously aware that she does really love him, but makes sure to maintain a distance and not reciprocate vulnerability or offer tenderness. When she reveals her pregnancy Marty immediately denies being the father and accuses her of using him to escape her situation. Eventually he does accept his own love for her and his responsibility as a father, but for a majority of the runtime he perceives her as a burden, especially when he finds out she faked a black eye that was supposedly given to her by her husband.
Notably however, these characters aren’t portrayed as being any less scheming than the protagonist himself. To varying degrees they’re either willing participants or also capable of shrewdness. But measuring their moral decay isn’t the point. These transactions in his life are emblematic of something we’re seeing more and more of in Western society: the promotion of contemporary hustle culture and a “grindset”. Online spaces have become cesspools for this sort of ideology and Marty Supreme in a way has taken this premise and placed it in the 1950s to highlight the shortcomings of this lifestyle. It reminds me of what Arundhati Roy said a couple of decades ago while being interviewed by David Barsamian in The Architecture of Modern Empire, “Every person who gets ahead gets ahead by stepping on his brother, or sister, or mother, or friend. It’s such a sad, lonely, terrible price to pay for creature comforts.”
So how does Chalamet harness this in his press persona? The slogan Dream Big has been relayed by the actor countless times, instilling not only a sense of undeterred ambition but a go-getter mentality. A parody corporate marketing video was released under the A24 YouTube Channel which featured Timothée performing a version of himself asserting increasingly absurd techniques to sell the film. His ideas include an orange blimp and a cereal box ad (like Michael Jordan on a box of Wheaties), the latter of which was referenced in the film itself by Marty. The meta brainstorming session proved viral with its blend of cringe comedy and actual brand stunts by leveraging the actor’s reputation and the film’s theme of pursuing greatness. Relating this act with recent interviews where he admits his belief that he deserves an Academy Award for his work, there is an authentic way to leverage the Marty image with his genuine self. Additionally, Chalamet’s outspoken confidence and unconventional star profile is more than just a spell, it has been brewing for many years as evidenced in the marketing of films like A Complete Unknown (for example, his Nardwuar interview). The promotion of Marty Supreme simply takes advantage of something already there.
It seems to be a piece in the puzzle of maintaining longevity as a star, especially in the current age of social media where opinions flip fast and one has to adapt to newer definitions of stardom. Whether or not you agree on Timothée’s status as a star, he has undoubtedly reached a point where one can sell a film on his own name. By carefully treading the line between prestige actor and pop culture figure he is able to flow into the mainstream, departing from previous signifiers of stardom which favoured an air of untouchability. Ultimately, he’s curated as a serious actor that can still connect with the masses.
Marty Supreme is about ambition and pushing it to its limits. It unravels the ego behind an American dreamer, advertising itself using that very ego. And who better to be at the centre of this than Timothée Chalamet, a rising Hollywood star who embodies the pursuit of greatness.
