Director - Benny Safdie
Cast - Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Ryan Bader, Bas Rutten, Oleksandr Usyk 
Duration – 123 Minutes
 
Directed by Benny Safdie, The Smashing Machine is not your typical sports movie. There’s no triumphant underdog story, no neatly wrapped redemption arc. What you get instead is a raw, brutal, and deeply human story about one man’s fight — not in the cage, but with himself. And at the center of it all is Dwayne Johnson, shedding his blockbuster persona and giving the most vulnerable, transformative performance of his career.
 
The film follows real-life MMA legend Mark Kerr, tracing the chaotic stretch of his career between 1999 and 2000, during the height of his fame and his addiction. As Kerr, Johnson is nearly unrecognizable — physically imposing, yes, but emotionally fractured. He plays Kerr as a man torn between dominance in the ring and helplessness outside of it. Whether he’s gritting through another brutal fight or quietly breaking down in a hotel bathroom, Johnson gives a performance rooted in restraint and internal pain. This is a man who can destroy anyone — except the things that are slowly destroying him.
 
Emily Blunt stars as Dawn Staples, Kerr’s girlfriend and emotional counterpart. Her portrayal is both heartbreaking and grounded. Dawn isn’t just written in as a background figure — she’s layered, flawed, and desperately trying to hold together a relationship with someone unraveling in front of her. Their love story is messy, real, and often painful to watch. The film doesn’t glamorize their connection; it exposes the push and pull of codependency, addiction, and misplaced hope.
 
Safdie’s direction is, as expected, intense and unrelenting. Known for his work on Uncut Gems, he brings a similarly suffocating energy here — not through fast pacing or loud visuals, but through stillness and dread. The fight scenes are punishing, yes, but it’s the quiet moments — the silence in the locker room, the distant stare during a relapse, the uneasy laughter after a brutal loss — that hit the hardest. It’s filmmaking that never flinches, even when the subject matter gets difficult to watch.
The film explores addiction and masculinity without ever feeling preachy. Kerr is never romanticized, nor demonized. He’s simply shown as he was — a man caught between personal demons and public expectations. Safdie also subtly critiques the MMA industry and how it exploits fighters like Kerr, both physically and emotionally, often leaving them with little support once the lights go out.
 
The score, composed by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, is haunting and atmospheric, heightening the sense of emotional isolation. It underscores the weight that Kerr carries in every scene, adding to the overall unease that permeates the film.
 
The story closes on a surprisingly gentle note. After all the pain and violence, we meet the real Mark Kerr, older now, quietly grocery shopping. No spotlight, no roar of the crowd — just a man, living. It's a reminder that survival can be a kind of victory, too.
 
In the end, The Smashing Machine is not a film about winning or losing. It’s about enduring. It’s about how much a person can take — from others, from life, from themselves — and still manage to stand. Dwayne Johnson and Benny Safdie deliver a film that’s as emotionally bruising as it is unforgettable.