BOSTON – “Nobody wants your films to exist,” Boston University alumnus Josh Safdie told an auditorium filled with BU film students Friday afternoon.
Ahead of the Coolidge Corner premiere of his new film “Marty Supreme,” Safdie returned to the BU campus for a conversation moderated by the Chair of the Department of Film and Television, Craig H. Shepard.
Safdie looked every bit the indie auteur, wearing a baseball cap pulled low and loose jeans as he lounged comfortably in his chair, ready to reflect.
His years at film school were defined by breaking rules and learning by doing.
“I convinced a guy at a red light to let me use his car in a short film,” Safdie recalled, laughing. “I don’t know how I did it. I must’ve said something right. He just let me in.”
He ended up using that car for weeks, driving around Boston and filming wherever he could. That story—along with tales of borrowing cranes from construction sites and encounters with eccentric professors—became emblematic of the film school experience Safdie still champions: bold, curious, and unafraid to experiment.
Every director has an opinion on film school. His advice? Go for everything except the film classes.
“Architecture classes taught me about space and design. Graphic design classes taught me how to communicate in small, powerful ways. Every course mattered—it all fed back into filmmaking,” he said.
During the question-and-answer session, that same humility came through.
“I wrote my college essay for this school about you,” one student told him nervously.
“I can’t even tell you how much that means to me,” Safdie said, leaning forward. He repeated it, his torso angled toward the student.
Less relatable for today’s students, Safdie reminisced about the era before digital filmmaking, when students shot and edited everything on celluloid.
“When I was here, everything was film. You shot on film, you edited on film. We used Steenbecks and flatbeds,” he said. “It forced you to be deliberate, that’s something I’ve carried into everything since. Editing on film makes you respect every cut.”
That discipline, the idea of thinking through every creative choice, now fuels his first solo directorial project without his brother, Benny Safdie.
“Marty Supreme,” which premiered November 21 is an American epic about dreams taking flight, even if that flight happens to be a ping pong ball bouncing between two paddles.
“I thought the film was so refreshing because it’s a continuation of Josh Safdie committing to a niche creative vision and taking on a subject that could become boring so easily, but instead making it into the most captivating story it can be,” said film student Teresa Markola after the screening.
“As always, he got me to invest in the journey of a character with minimal redeeming or likeable traits—which is no easy feat—yet he does it so effortlessly,” she added.
It’s true: Howard Ratner in Uncut Gems may be infuriating in his compulsive gambling, yet he’s impossible to look away from. Connie Nikas in Good Time may be conniving, but isn’t it all in pursuit of something greater?
Now, Safdie turns his lens to Marty, an obsessively driven table-tennis player (Timothee Chalamet) who dreams of victory at all costs. The stakes are higher than anyone might imagine.
The film is set to open nationwide on Christmas Day, and its marketing campaign has already become the stuff of legend. Chalamet even posted an 18-minute “leaked” Zoom call in which he pitches A24 executives wild ideas—from painting the Eiffel Tower to flying Marty Supreme blimps that rain ping-pong balls.
“My actor, Timothée Chalamet, thinks about marketing in a totally new way. He credits Bob Dylan for that. He understands iconography, how to make a single image resonate. The idea is: A character’s look should be Halloween-costume recognizable,” Safdie said, describing Chalamet’s unique approach.
It seems Chalamet is less interested in explaining what Marty Supreme is about and more focused on conveying how it’s meant to make you feel—great, motivated, and, well, supreme.
Safdie himself admits the premise is unusual like the marketing—inspired by a 1950s competition clip he stumbled across—but to him, it makes perfect sense.
“Nobody wants your films to exist,” Safdie said again, smiling. “You have to will them into existence.”
This article was produced for BINJ.News, the independent weekly magazine published by the Boston Institute for Nonprofit Journalism, and is syndicated by BINJ’s MassWire news service.
