Film Review: The Smashing Machine

By Dwight Brown
Film Critic

“Am I going to hurt him before he hurts me?”

That’s what’s on the mind of mixed martial arts (MMA) champion fighter Mark Kerr before every match. He developed that aggressive stance early in life. Born in Toledo, Ohio, to an Irish dad and Puerto Rican mom, as a kid he was a World Wrestling Federation (WWF) fan who wrestled in his backyard. Years later becoming a high school state champion, winning wrestling awards at Syracuse University and earning a silver medal at the 1995 Pan American Games.   

Kerr’s amateur wrestling experience helped when he transitioned into mixed martial arts.  He famously became a pioneer of the full-contact fighting sport that embodies striking, grappling and other combat sports from around the world. That set the stage for him becoming one of the first stars in the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) world. They called him “The Smashing Machine,” because of his brutal fighting stye.

That’s Kerr’s backstory. In his biofilm, indie writer/director Benny Safdie (Uncut Gems) catches Kerr (Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson) at the heights and depths of his fame. He’s partnered with his girlfriend Dawn Staples (Emily Blunt), has a deep friendship with fellow MMA fighter Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader), and is coached by Bas (Bas Rutten, MMA champ; Paul Blart: Mall Cop).  Kerr knows how to kick ass and holds the record for the longest winning streak for an MMA Bellator Heavyweight Champion.

During his high-profile career, Kerr garnered fans around the world. Particularly in Japan, where martials arts is extremely popular. The wins have come at a price for the big gregarious man who’s surprisingly soft spoken outside the ring. The chronic pain he suffers, from countless injuries, has made Advil about as effective as a cough drop.

It’s a big boy pain that’s only soothed by narcotics. Drugs that are changing Kerr’s personality and starting to drive a wedge between Dawn and him. Now they’re fighting a lot. Romantic bliss is overshadowed by scream fests. In fairness to him, sometimes when he needs to concentrate just before a match and block out extraneous stimuli, she becomes an unwanted distraction. She’s there to support him ostensibly but making her feelings dominate the conversation. Dawn: “I just need you to let me in.” Kerr exasperated and trying to block her whining out: “It’s always about you. Only about f—ing you!”

Safdie’s surprisingly deep script takes audiences into the nooks and crannies of the MMA world. It deglamorizes the sport, goes behind the spectacle and introduces audiences to the humans that are taking punches and kicks to the face for money, the joy of fans and an adrenaline rush. The involving, docudrama, cinema verité style reveals a lot. Similar to the way filmmaker Darren Aronofsky showcased the wrestling world with his 2008 film The Wrestler, starring Mickey Rourke. You can almost smell the sweat off Kerr’s body. When he shoots up opioids, you wince because it looks just real enough to be repulsive.

Johnson is just one of many wrestlers who’ve jumped into acting. However, he distinguishes himself from others because he gets under a character’s skin and emotes in ways that are believable and touching. But there’s a key difference with this characterization. He isn’t a larger-than-life hero. He doesn’t have all the answers and likely won’t come to save the day. That’s not the life Kerr led. He was a champ who became a broken man, then found a way to survive his physical and emotional scars. Johnson plays him that way. No frills.

Scenes in the ring are up Johnson’s alley. However, surprisingly, he excels more in the dramatic sequences with his emotional tug-of-wars with Dawn. He handles the weird blend of happiness, fear, sadness and anger well. Well enough for Blunt to build off those volatile feelings and turn her version of Dawn from a supportive, mouthy spouse to a ball-busting, self-centered saboteur. This is one of Blunt’s best performances. Also, MMA fans may be surprised to see Bader go far deeper into his Coleman character than they could ever fathom.

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This is an intriguing sports movie. Certainly not as uplifting as popular pugilist films like Rocky or Creed. Different. Filled with ups and downs. And the downs go deep into a world of addiction.

Those who see his gritty biopic will learn that you can take the dog out of the fight, but you can’t take the fight out of the dog. They’ll know because the director, Johnson and the cast and crew told them so.