Few filmmakers working today bring the kind of visual authenticity that Jack Fisk is known for. Across a career spanning more than three decades, Fisk has shaped the worlds of films like Mulholland Drive and There Will Be Blood. For Marty Supreme, he turned that experience toward recreating the texture and chaos of 1950s New York—guided by the boundless momentum of director Josh Safdie. Fisk, now 80, is one of the few people on the production who remembers the era firsthand. Yet he says Safdie’s commitment to authenticity often outpaced his own memories. “Josh has got so much energy and is such a lover of New York,” Fisk said. “I was always trying to find things that I could tell him that were a little different. But he was ahead of me.”
Building a city from memory and research
Marty Supreme follows scheming ping-pong prodigy Marty Mauser, played by Timothée Chalamet, across a globe-spanning journey that begins in the Lower East Side. Recreating that world required an almost documentary level of research. Fisk approached the film as a historical excavation. He studied archival photography, city blueprints, and period color charts, paying close attention to details most viewers would never consciously notice. Even ping-pong balls became part of the discussion, as Safdie insisted on sourcing balls sized correctly for the 1950s.
“I think in my heart, I approach a lot of these films as documentaries,” Fisk said. “Research gives you a starting point. Then you alter it to work for the film.”
Lawrence’s Broadway Table Tennis Club
One of the film’s most important locations is Lawrence’s Broadway Table Tennis Club, inspired by the real-life haunt of 1950s ping-pong legend Marty Reisman. The original building no longer exists, but Fisk tracked down vintage photographs and blueprints, including black-and-white magazine spreads that revealed the exact layout. The art department recreated the space down to hand-painted murals that once adorned the walls when the building housed a miniature golf course. Some details barely register on screen, but Fisk believes they matter. “If it’s closer to authenticity, it might help the actors understand their character,” he explained.
Transforming Orchard Street
Recreating Orchard Street posed a different challenge. Modern storefronts, glass facades, graffiti, and signage made the real location unusable as-is. Fisk’s team built modular tenement fronts to cover contemporary architecture, then layered awnings, vendor tables, signage, and aged graphics to sell the illusion. Color played a crucial role. Fisk avoided white almost entirely, favoring the rich, saturated hues common in the 1950s. “White just burns a hole in the film,” he said. “Those older colors were beautiful, and they ground you in the period.”
From New York to Tokyo
The film’s scope extends beyond Manhattan, culminating in a championship sequence set in Japan. Fisk collaborated closely with Japanese art departments, exchanging drawings and reference images for weeks before filming began. A concert shell outside Tokyo ultimately doubled as the tournament venue, enhanced with bamboo structures and period-accurate graphics. Safdie’s fluency in Japanese helped streamline communication, and Fisk described the experience as unusually seamless. “You would just kind of wish something and it would show up,” he said.
Collaboration at the core
Chalamet was deeply involved in the design process, frequently visiting sets, reviewing drawings, and engaging with research. Fisk credits the actor’s enthusiasm with energizing the crew. “He just took advantage of all of it,” Fisk said. “His excitement made you excited to be a part of it.” In the end, Marty Supreme stands as a testament to obsessive collaboration. Guided by Safdie’s urgency and Fisk’s lived memory, the film doesn’t just depict 1950s New York—it inhabits it.
