Timothée Chalamet

In Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme (2025), Timothée Chalamet keeps his chin up and his mouth working. His Marty Mauser seems to calculate how much charm each encounter needs. We can see him making the decision, which makes a busy performance worth watching closely. Safdie lets his hustler run on too long, and likes him more than we do, but Chalamet keeps the endless hustling interesting.

His breakthrough lead in Call Me by Your Name (2017) was followed by a move into larger-scale leading roles, but youthful uncertainty remained useful. In Denis Villeneuve’s Dune (2021), Paul Atreides looks young enough for responsibility to trouble him. His reserve can keep us at a distance, though Rebecca Ferguson’s concern as his mother, Lady Jessica, makes that youth matter. Dune: Part Two (2024) is the stronger film, but Villeneuve gets less from the pairing of Chalamet and Zendaya. Their watchful scenes need warmth, and neither the script nor the music can provide it on their behalf.

Paul King’s Wonka (2023) tries the opposite approach: Chalamet’s Willy Wonka means every word and beams without reserve. The light singing voice is pleasant, and the kindness is deliberate. Yet the dancing looks learned, and there is little chance that the smile conceals an unkind thought. We like him well enough; we would rather have some reason to wonder what he might do next.

James Mangold’s A Complete Unknown (2024) gives him more precise work to do, although its drama too often waits for another song. As Bob Dylan, Chalamet supplies the pinched, nasal voice, the hunch over the guitar and the half-smile arriving just after the joke. Mangold and editors Scott Morris and Andrew Buckland let his singing continue long enough for us to listen. We were moved by the hospital performance because Chalamet sings to Scoot McNairy’s Guthrie in the bed, rather than towards the camera. Try it for the singing, with patience for the conversations between songs.