Review: ‘The Smashing Machine’ swats away every sports movie cliché
2025 / Dir. Benny Safdie
☆ 3.5/5
Watch if you like: Uncut Gems, The Curse, bad ‘90s facial hair, and always wished Alice Coltrane recorded a spiritual jazz concept album about Conor McGregor.
The Smashing Machine is an arthouse genre experiment in how not to make a sports movie. In his solo feature directorial debut after splitting with his brother, Josh, Benny Safdie resists at every turn leaning into any cliches of the genre. Instead, he gives us an oddly fascinating “VHS-verité” recreation of some of the events shown in a 2002 HBO documentary, also called The Smashing Machine, that followed the tribulations of MMA-pummeler Mark Kerr—here played by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson in a career-best role.
Taking place between 1997 and 2000, before UFC fighters were household names, Kerr has to brutally pummel dudes in different leagues around the world to afford a successful but modest life for himself and his girlfriend, Dawn (Emily Blunt), in their suburban Arizona bungalow. He’s now entering the downward slope of his career after facing his first loss amidst his growing addiction to opiates.
That might sound like the setup for a Rocky comeback story or a The Wrestler-esque depiction of a fallen bruiser, but The Smashing Machine is not like any sports story you’ve seen. Each time a familiar plot beat is introduced, Safdie swats it away. For instance, the film never wallows in Kerr’s addiction: an overdose is shown off-screen and a trip to rehab is depicted by Kerr rolling his suitcase in and, later, out of the front gate. There is a comeback story, but it’s of Kerr’s friend and mentor, Mark Coleman (UFC fighter Ryan Bader, with an effectively natural performance) that emerges around the periphery of the film.
Even the fight scenes play down the violence and excitement in an overall attempt to present Mark Kerr’s life as straightforward and normal as possible for a massive, muscled man who “smashes” dudes for a living. The fights are usually glimpsed through the ropes, behind the cameraman, or otherwise obscured. What’s more unusual is that the fights are scored by ambient jazz musician Nala Sinephro—who makes a dreamlike appearance playing an otherworldly harp rendition of the National Anthem—giving each bout a transcendental, meditative quality rather than a typical sports high.
Then there’s the choice of casting Dwayne Johnson, who could easily play his usual cocky archetype, but instead sinks into the character behind a series of late ‘90s haircuts and mild prosthetics. His depiction of Kerr is a man who is chummy and well-spoken, particularly in a scene in which he calmly explains his sport and injuries to an older woman in a doctor’s office waiting room. He exists as both a totally normal guy and a man who could pulverize anything in his path.
It might not seem like a stretch to have a former wrestler play a former MMA brawler, but Johnson’s performance here is so captivating that he could make a legitimate career turn as a character actor after this. That’s more apparent in the frequent at-home “battles” he has with Dawn, depicting a co-dependent relationship between a guy who struggles to feel the highs of life when not in the ring and a woman who desperately wants to feel the spotlight too. Johnson and Blunt have been co-stars before in Hollywood crud, but here harness that familiarity and turn it into a far rougher and more compelling relationship.
The Smashing Machine does feel more like an experiment than a totally cohesive, enjoyable moviegoing experience—albeit one that I can’t stop thinking about days later. The focus on a stylized verité experience keeps us at arm’s length from truly understanding these characters, even while Johnson, Blunt, and Bader’s performances are still deeply effective and touching. We’re denied both boxing movie thrills and the outright brutality of Raging Bull, yet Sinephro’s unique score takes us to a strange, enchanting place.
Like Kerr’s career, Safdie’s first solo film isn’t a roaring success, but it isn’t trying to be. The Smashing Machine sifts through how to showcase a man who was neither an all-time great nor a tragic figure, and that requires trying to chart a new course for an oft-cliched genre.