About “Marty Supreme” in a few words:

Marty Supreme is a 2025 sports comedy-drama that takes the humble game of table tennis and spins it into a chaotic, heartfelt, sometimes messy pursuit of greatness. It follows Marty Mauser, a Lower East Side shoe store clerk with big dreams in the tiny world of competitive ping-pong — and even bigger antics in love, hustles, and personal ambition. The film mixes grit, charm, and off-the-wall energy as Marty chases fame against all odds.

Meet the characters from Marty Supreme

Marty Mauser

Marty Mauser is that sort of wildly charismatic main character who somehow makes chaos look like choreography. He’s bold, stubborn, a little too clever for his own good, and always the first to dive into trouble — which, if you ask anyone, is kind of his job. He swears he’s sentimental but keeps his childhood ticket stubs in a shoebox labeled “junk” (also he cries during commercials, not proud of it). Marty thinks he’s neat and organized but his desk is a landfill of half-used pens and snack wrappers; also he bakes really terrible cookies and gives them away, which is either brave or criminal. He leads, improvises, and somehow ends up saving the day while arguing with a pigeon about the proper way to tie a shoelace — I am not joking.

Kay Stone

Kay Stone is the calm, practical backbone of the group — the one everyone goes to when things are realistically falling apart. She is quietly fierce, totally moral in a “do the right thing even when it’s annoying” way, and has a razor-sharp wit that sneaks up on you. She’s obsessed with houseplants (like, she names them all) but also secretly prefers neon socks and comes home at midnight to rearrange the furniture sometimes. Kay gives the best advice and will scold you while making tea, which is somehow both intimidating and soothing. She tries to be organized (labels everything) yet somehow always loses the spare keys — human, relatable, and secretly terrifying in a good way.

Rachel Mizler

Rachel Mizler is a whirlwind—fast-talking, gadget-collecting, and allergic to boredom. She plans five steps ahead and then immediately improvises a sixth, and honestly it’s part strategy, part impulse buy (literally impulsive with online shopping at 2 a.m.). Rachel is wildly generous but also a little dramatic; she will build you a drone to deliver soup and then cry because the soup went cold. She’s got a laugh that’s too loud for libraries, a surprisingly encyclopedic knowledge of obscure movie scores, and a habit of chewing the end of pens when she’s excited. Underneath the sparkly exterior she’s loyal and ferocious, but also—oddly—terrified of glitter, which makes no sense but is true.

Murray Norkin

Murray Norkin is the lovable, eccentric tinkerer who exists half in the workshop and half in a cloud of improbable ideas. He’s brilliant, scatterbrained, and prone to launching into monologues about gears and tiny theoretical problems that will probably save the world or at least make a great cup holder. Murray is awkward in crowds, brutally honest in the sweetest way, and carries around a notebook full of invented words and recipes for toast that never quite work. He has a pet ferret (named Bureaucracy), is inexplicably terrified of pigeons, and insists on wearing three scarves in summer—says it’s “for science.” Despite the chaos, people trust him because his heart is enormous and because, somehow, his inventions mostly do what he promises — eventually.