THE SMASHING MACHINE is the solo directorial debut of Benny Safdie, best known for his collaborations with brother Josh, such as UNCUT GEMS. The combat sport drama is also a showcase for the dramatic work of Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson, overlapping to some extent with his pre-acting wrestling experience. Whilst the film is accomplished work from everyone involved, and frequently takes an interesting path in telling a common story type, it goes the distance without leaving a lasting impact.
Johnson plays Mark Kerr, a wrestler who became one of the early pioneers of mixed martial arts (MMA) fighting as a sport, and the subject of a well-received HBO documentary of the same title. We follow Kerr’s journey through the sport with friend Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader), his difficulty with opioid addiction, the tumultuous relationship he has with Dawn Staples (Emily Blunt), and his efforts in the (now defunct) Japanese Pride Fighting Championships.
Johnson proves more than capable in the role, delivering his lines with a calm and serenity that draws you in. When Kerr espouses – without bravado – about how he wants to “physically impose [his] will on you” in a fight, and patiently explains the concept of the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) to a sceptical woman in a doctor’s office, the delivery is engaging and illuminating. The specificity of emotion, explained and, more crucially, demonstrated in later, more vulnerable scenes, sets up Kerr’s later challenges.
“Johnson proves more than capable in the role, delivering his lines with a calm and serenity that draws you in.”
Other roles feel underwritten, and Emily Blunt’s Dawn feels especially slight. At all points in the narrative, she runs the risk of falling into the clichéd ‘difficult girlfriend’ role, but Blunt brings a lot more pathos to the role than the script provides. When Dawn has moments of clarity after emotional clashes with Kerr or spirals herself, Blunt’s ability conveys much more than the dialogue could alone. Ryan Bader, a current MMA and UFC professional himself, does serviceable work as Mark Coleman. However, for every scene addressing physical feats and competitiveness, there is an emotional one where he’s not quite on the same level as Blunt or Johnson.
“The technical approach also doesn’t serve as the effect multiplier it perhaps should on the performances. Safdie’s very level approach […] keeps things slightly more stand-offish than would serve the story.”
The technical approach also doesn’t serve as the effect multiplier it perhaps should on the performances. Safdie’s very level approach, which uses an almost documentary or cinema verité style, keeps things slightly more stand-offish than would serve the story. This restrained method means we don’t succumb to some of the addiction drama stereotypes; for instance, Kerr’s 1999 overdose is not explicitly depicted, nor is a possible relapse trigger amped up. However, the distant observation of Kerr means Safdie doesn’t bring much visual embellishment to his interior life. The flat approach also means we don’t understand the psychology of competition at work as well as we perhaps should. We hear his description of victory – “there’s no other high like it” – but then swiftly gloss over (save for a destroyed flimsy door) how frustrating it is for Dawn to tell Kerr to “just get over it” when he fails to win for the first time. These moments feel like a failure to build on those psychological elements.
“Nala Sinephro’s score for the film combines synthesisers and jazz instrumentation to an intoxicating effect, drifting us along in a sort of restless fugue state…”
However, there are still elements which maintain some degree of emotional contour. Nala Sinephro’s score for the film combines synthesisers and jazz instrumentation to an intoxicating effect, drifting us along in a sort of restless fugue state; its precise yet chaotic nature echoes Kerr’s movement between placid demeanour and structured violence. The musical accompaniment envelops in a way that Safdie’s visuals seem to avoid intentionally. The music makes the film stand apart from something like the excellent THE IRON CLAW, Sean Durkin’s wrestling drama, laced with tragedy, with which this will inevitably be compared. In keeping with the auditory elements being the film’s standout technical elements, the sound design within fight scenes is often wince-inducing, making them hit appropriately without glamorising the frequently brutal physicality.
THE SMASHING MACHINE is an accomplished enough film not to seem like a desperate grab for respectability from Dwayne Johnson, mostly noted to date for comedic and action work. However, the film’s narrative seems to be all exploratory jabs and no haymaker. Safdie’s film skips deftly around the most clichéd aspects of the genres it evokes, but it fails to use that fancy footwork to advance something especially memorable of its own.