The Smashing Machine Review

Jackson Gagliardi ‘27 / Emertainment Monthly Staff Writer 

Laced with metaphors as subtle as an uppercut, The Smashing Machine promised to follow in the footsteps of the Safdie brothers’ other films by redefining an actor’s career (Pattinson in Good Time, Sandler in Uncut Gems). This time, the more on-screen Safdie, Benny, chooses to tackle one of Hollywood’s most formulaic performers: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Johnson portrays real-life wrestling and MMA pioneer Mark Kerr in his initial rise to success and eventual fall due to drug addiction and marital drama. However, the film that was set to be Johnson’s foray into “serious” acting loses by near unanimous decision in most categories. What was clearly meant to be a series of violent gut-punches ultimately feels more like slowly being choked into submission over the course of two hours as the real Mark Kerr, a “consultant” on the production, whispers in your ear that the story is unapologetically authentic. 

Does this authenticity matter when, in the end, the film largely endorses Kerr’s story—frightening and deeply unlikable as it is? It is a story that paints his now ex-wife Dawn Staples (Emily Blunt) as manipulative and unrelenting. A story that, while structured very similarly to the documentary it was based on, consistently feels like it’s not revealing the full truth. And when Kerr himself appears at the end of the film, closing a story that occurred just 25 years ago, one begins to hone in on a singular word that synthesizes many issues with this film: Why? 

Why choose to tell this wholly anticlimactic story about a man that most people do not know instead of telling original stories? Why adapt a perfectly sound documentary, constraining the film to the whims of the subject dictating how he wants this small sliver of his life to be portrayed? Why was this made? Largely, most of these questions can be answered by looking at Benny Safdie’s past work. It’s no surprise that this story was one of interest to Safdie: one sees patterns both of people throwing it all away and of sports when examining his filmography. But where those stories eventually reach some narrative conclusion (usually a comeuppance of sorts), The Smashing Machine ends not with a bang but with a cowardly whimper, prancing around the real Mark Kerr and praising his elevation of the sport. By including him in the story, in the same way that Jordan Belfort making a cameo in The Wolf of Wall Street is problematic, it reframes the story in a way that indicates the intention was to use his story as inspiration, or that it really wasn’t all bad, when, in both cases, it’s clear that these real people put other real people through a lot of mental anguish. 

Does it, at that point, matter if Johnson delivers an almost uncannily accurate performance of the real person? Even if it is so scarily one-to-one as people claim, is it really that surprising of a performance? Johnson doesn’t exactly dissolve into the role, nor is it surprising that he can be a good actor, as long-time WWE fans have seen him be one of the most charismatic and versatile superstars for decades. In an almost meta moment when Kerr shaves his head and Johnson basically devolves into his iconic bald look, it becomes clear that, just like the wig he wears most of the movie, Kerr is a thin facade that barely disguises Johnson. While this was clearly meant to be Johnson’s big showcase, he is consistently outdone by most of his other castmates; Blunt is heartbreaking as Dawn Staples, Bader’s acting debut is quite grounded and believable, and Bas Rutten does an incredible job playing himself. 

On a technical level, the film stands quite well. Bishop’s kinetic camera movements, grainy flares, and crash zooms combined with Safdie’s precisely-timed editing lend a level of realism that goes beyond emulating a documentary by placing viewers in the moment as a spectator. However, this formal display can only go so far to supplement the lack of truly engaging or compelling story beats, as each scene just feels like one dissonant note after another, unsure of what the film is actually trying to say about its characters, or why it picks these particular instances as moments of characterization.

This issue is exposed, ironically, in one of the best scenes of the film. Mark and Dawn head to a state fair, where Dawn encourages Mark to go on a classic UFO spinning ride. Mark rejects the offer, afraid it’ll upset his “tummy.” Dawn goes on the ride by herself, riding it in an unconventional and risky way, while Mark stands outside in solitude. It reveals a lot about their characters, and the dichotomy of their internal vs. external selves is exposed as they get separated in this moment. Dawn loves the danger of the ride, as well as Mark’s more dangerous side. Mark, on the other hand, is quite a reserved person, and does not like taking these risks. The scene reveals so much about their characters and their dynamic and it is, notably, not actually in the documentary and potentially a scene invented by Safdie. It goes to show how more moments like these (or, preferably, an entirely fictional movie) would have given Safdie more agency in crafting a compelling story.   

When the bell rings and this film is judged in retrospect, it will likely only be remembered for its gimmick (giving “The Rock” his first serious role). If Johnson ever gets the chance to surpass this performance, this Safdie entry will potentially be lost to time, especially if Marty Supreme outdoes it just two months later, and Kerr will return to being a name largely unacknowledged. In the end, it was far from a smash hit.