In the new hit film Marty Supreme, the plot advances as the lead character, Marty Mauser, repeatedly creates messes and, instead of cleaning them up, manages to blow them wildly out of proportion. Marty is trying to prove himself as the world’s greatest table-tennis champion, hoping to escape his modest mid-century New York City life and achieve a dream he’s fixated on—seemingly more out of a desire for success than any real love for the sport.
Just as he inflates some natural athletic talent into an obsessive quest, all of Marty’s misdeeds escalate throughout the film. He coaxes, then lies. A pushy request to borrow money quickly turns into petty theft, which then becomes armed robbery. At one point, a small ping-pong hustle at a New Jersey bowling alley literally explodes into a gas station fire. Marty refuses to accept anything less than total victory, which means he especially won’t take responsibility for his actions. And yet, the audience is still invited to like him, at least partly because he’s played by Timothée Chalamet.
As Marty Supreme has reached a wide audience, that last point has become a sticking point for some. Plenty of YouTube and TikTok videos question why we’re supposed to happily follow this near-sociopathic character for over two hours, prompting publications like Variety to weigh in on Marty’s (and Chalamet’s) likability.
This isn’t the first time an awards-season contender has sparked a likability debate, and it won’t be the last. But it feels like the first time in a while that this kind of bafflement (or disapproval) has been directed specifically at a male lead. The self-interested protagonists of Best Picture nominees like Birdman, American Hustle, Joker, or Once Upon a Time in Hollywood didn’t seem to inspire much discourse about whether they were proper male role models. Those discussions more often focus on women, especially in depictions of motherhood, like Jennifer Lawrence’s character in the recent Die My Love. That film barely seems part of the awards conversation despite Lawrence’s bravura performance, partly because audiences have found it difficult to get on the movie’s aggressive, “unpleasant” wavelength.
So in a way, the return to worrying about Marty Mauser’s likability feels oddly justified. But there may still be some gender dynamics at play here; it’s hard to separate questions about Marty’s likability from Chalamet himself, particularly his combination of a slender, more stereotypically “feminine” appearance and semi-parodic macho bravado (both in the film and in his tireless promotion of it). Rather than his star charisma softening Marty’s bad behavior, Chalamet’s beauty (and appeal to female fans) seems to further irritate anyone unconvinced by his superstar status.
This has happened repeatedly with Chalamet’s closest counterpart in ambition and star power: Leonardo DiCaprio—whom audiences and critics recently embraced as downright lovable playing a burnt-out, semi-competent ex-radical in One Battle After Another. But in films like Killers of the Flower Moon and especially The Wolf of Wall Street, DiCaprio faced questions about whether he and those movies were glorifying criminals simply by depicting them at such length. DiCaprio’s Jordan Belfort (like Marty Mauser, based on a real-life figure, though the Marty Supreme adaptation is much looser) was a particular target of criticism, with concerns over whether audiences could even truly recognize Belfort’s criminality when portrayed through the megastar image of Leo.
To complain about a character’s likability while also worrying about them modeling poor behavior is to place yourself above the rest of the audience; sure, you understand how bad this guy is, but what about all theWhat about those who aren’t so enlightened? Let’s assume that at least some objections to Marty Supreme are genuine dislike, not just concern-trolling—a visceral reaction against spending 150 minutes with such a selfish jerk, and skepticism over whether the film’s ending even begins to redeem him. Who hasn’t felt an instinctive dislike for a fresh-faced brat? I certainly get that sense from a lot of YouTubers and TikTok scolds.
But the lingering question of a character’s likability—whether we can root for them, identify with them, or even enjoy them as a charismatic antihero—feels like a particular curse and gift of cinema. A novel can delve deeper into a character’s psychology if the author chooses. While some readers might complain about Holden Caulfield’s whininess, for example, there are English teachers to guide them through The Catcher in the Rye or other books where the protagonist isn’t a lovable underdog.
Movies, however, don’t come with that kind of instruction. We aren’t taught as much about how to “read” them as students, and they’re presented first and foremost as entertainment. While they can and should be more than that, mainstream cinema has also spent over a century basking in the glow of stars. A movie star’s job is to draw and hold our attention, even if the story feels familiar or dull. When a star pushes too hard against that expectation of likability, it can feel like a broken contract.
Cinema deserves more than just shiny distractions, of course, but it’s also uniquely able to provide them. Tedious debates about likability may be the price we pay for that magic—which will never work equally for everyone. Some who recoil at Timothée Chalamet’s snot-nosed, self-important character in Marty Supreme might find themselves charmed by him playing another “unlikable” role in 20 years. I’m not entirely convinced there’s great literary depth to Marty’s flaws, but that didn’t stop me from engaging with the film. In a film culture that often seems to aim for homogenization, spending time with immoral or obnoxious characters can feel like its own strange kind of magic. Likability may be an unfair demand placed on cinema, but such an expansive medium is more than up to the challenge.
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about the idea that you can dislike Timothée Chalamets character and still love the film Dune Part Two
General Beginner Questions
Q What does disliking Timothée Chalamets character even mean
A It means you find Paul Atreides the person he becomes in the story to be arrogant ruthless manipulative or dangerous Youre critiquing the characters actions and choices not Timothée Chalamets acting
Q Isnt Paul Atreides the hero How can you dislike the hero
A Dune is famous for deconstructing the chosen one trope Paul is presented as a hero but the story critically examines the consequences of his rise to power You can follow his journey while being uneasy about his methods and the holy war he unleashes
Q So what is Marty Supreme referring to
A Marty Supreme is a playful fanmade nickname for Dune Part Two itself praising it as the ultimate or supreme cinematic experience It highlights the films grand spectacle direction score and overall execution
Q Can I really separate a main character from the movie
A Absolutely A film is the sum of many parts directing cinematography score worldbuilding supporting performances and themes You can admire the masterpiece Denis Villeneuve built even if you have complex feelings about its central figure
Deeper Advanced Questions
Q Isnt the point of the movie to make us question Paul
A Yes exactly If you dislike Paul by the end the film has likely done its job It invites you to be captivated by his journey while also seeing the warning signs and tragic outcomes Your critical view of Paul aligns with the books and films deeper themes
Q What are the benefits of viewing the movie this way
A It allows for a richer more critical viewing experience You engage with the films moral complexities and political commentary rather than just following a standard heros journey It also lets you fully appreciate the technical and artistic achievements without needing to root for the protagonist in a traditional sense
