Ahead of a mixed martial arts competition in Japan, a journalist asks American fighter Mark Kerr, can you imagine what it’s like to not win a bout? Having come off a series of victories, Kerr struggles for words. Then he loses.
The shock of defeat, plus the sheer physical effort involved in the sport, take a toll on Kerr (Dwayne Johnson). His addiction to painkillers messes with his head as well as his relationship with his girlfriend Dawn (Emily Blunt). Benny Safdie’s The Smashing Machine follows Kerr down the chute and then on his upward journey towards the acceptance of vulnerability.
Safdie’s first solo project after co-directing films with his brother Josh Safdie is based on John Hyams’s 2002 documentary of the same name. Several scenes in Benny Safdie’s movie are directly from the documentary, such as a conversation in a hospital waiting room in which Kerr explains just how brutal and risky mixed martial arts can get. This is borne out by rough-and-tumble battles in the ring, in which the fighters go all out to defeat their opponents.
For all the bashing and grasping, The Smashing Machine is a tidy, uninvolving version of Kerr’s blood-and-guts journey. Without the elements to distinguish it from other films of this type, the movie slips out of grasp.
The documentary, while shorter than the 124-minute fictionalised drama, laid out the intricacies of the MMA scene and Kerr’s drug abuse far more memorably. Kerr and Mark Coleman were among the pioneers in the MMA arena – information provided in Safdie’s film in the end credits, rather than being woven into his script.
The annual tournaments in Japan supply some of the natural, colourful scenes. Loyal fans, polite journalists and earnest event organisers give a vivid sense of the sport’s raging popularity.
One of the movie’s chief selling points is the casting of Dwayne Johnson in a serious, author-backed role. The former wrestler, who’s a global star for playing comedic action heroes, is physically transformed by prosthetics and a wig.
Johnson’s sincerity is evident in the scenes designed to showcase his commitment – Kerr putting up a brave face after a loss, only to come undone in the privacy of his locker; Kerr being a smashing machine at his house during arguments with Dawn. However, the voice and enunciation distinctly belong to Dwayne Johnson, rather than Mark Kerr.
Emily Blunt is excellent as Dawn, the one female element in an all-male universe. Dawn goes from supportive partner to appendage, without the character shading to provide anything more than a punching bag for Kerr.
Kerr’s friendship with his peer Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader) fares better. Bader, himself a professional wrestler, is an equally memorable character, less affected than Dwayne Johnson but sidelined by Kerr’s travails.
