The Smashing Machine

I love a good biopic. Any chance to learn more about someone’s life, I’m all for it. I especially enjoy discovering the story of someone I don’t know much about, and that’s exactly the case with Benny Safdie’s new film The Smashing Machine. I had no idea who Mark Kerr is (or was) since I’ve never been into UFC — that sport some once tried to ban. For those that know UFC, Kerr was a superstar. The good news is, no matter which side of that fence you’re on, The Smashing Machine has the potential to appeal to us all.

The year is 1997. The Spice Girls are on top, Leo and Kate are sailing toward stardom on Titanic, and Mark Kerr (Dwayne Johnson) is beginning his MMA/UFC career. After a strong start, Kerr seems poised for greatness. Back home, he lives with his girlfriend Dawn (Emily Blunt), who supports him but often feels shut out, as Kerr leans heavily on his old trainer, Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader). Beneath the victories, however, lies a growing dependence on painkillers. Kerr’s reliance on opioids strains both his career and his relationships, and after his first loss — followed by an overdose — he gets clean. But sobriety makes navigating his relationship with Dawn even harder. To complicate matters further, Kerr must now prepare to fight Coleman in the ring, as his personal and professional struggles collide.

Written and directed by Safdie, The Smashing Machine blurs the line between narrative drama and documentary, often focusing more toward the latter. Known with his brother for breathlessly paced films, Safdie shows surprising delicacy here, observing a man who gave his body and soul to a sport. The craft is meticulous — from the research behind the events to the realism of the fights — but for all its strengths, the film’s biggest flaw is that it never quite becomes unforgettable.

The Smashing Machine never reaches knockout level because some of its punches miss the target. Part of the issue is Safdie’s devotion to the truth. While authenticity is valuable, Kerr’s story alone doesn’t always feel strong enough to carry a full length of a feature. The film works best outside the ring, where Kerr’s personal battles shape him just as much as his fights do.

What elevates the film most are the performances. Johnson has never been better. Beyond his physical presence, it’s the moments of helplessness and self-doubt where he shines. Blunt, meanwhile, makes the most of limited material, adding depth to a story centered firmly on Kerr’s perspective. Even with those constraints, she grounds the film and enhances its emotional impact.

Ultimately, The Smashing Machine entertains and will have its champions who speak highly of it. Many viewers will connect with Kerr’s struggles. For me, though, the film plays things a little too safe, and does not reach the greatness of the man it’s attempting to honor.