Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson Breaks Through In 'The Smashing Machine', But Benny Safdie's Biopic Pulls Its Punches
- Brad Willows

- Oct 9
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 13

Benny Safdie’s solo directorial debut, The Smashing Machine, attempts a gritty, anti-biopic approach to the life of legendary mixed martial arts (MMA) pioneer Mark Kerr, but ultimately delivers an experience that is more compelling as an acting showcase than as a cohesive drama. While Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson is truly transformative, delivering a career-best, Oscar-buzz-worthy performance, the film itself is often hampered by a lack of narrative drive and a heavy reliance on its source material.
The Smashing Machine chronicles a tumultuous period in the life of Mark Kerr (Dwayne Johnson), a dominant figure in the nascent days of the UFC and the Japanese MMA circuit, PRIDE, from roughly 1997 to 2000. Known as "The Smashing Machine" for his punishing, wrestling-heavy style, Kerr seemed invincible, quickly racking up victories and two UFC heavyweight tournament titles.
However, the film, an adaptation of the 2002 HBO documentary of the same name, focuses less on the triumph and more on the personal cost of that success. Kerr's life outside the ring is a downward spiral fueled by a crippling addiction to opioid painkillers used to manage chronic injuries. His struggles are set against a turbulent, codependent relationship with his girlfriend, Dawn Staples (Emily Blunt), who battles her own demons.
The narrative follows Kerr as his addiction erodes his dominance, culminating in a devastating hospitalisation and a forced attempt at sobriety. The final act sees him attempting a comeback, forcing him to face his past decisions, his relationships, and the physical limitations of a body built for destruction.
Released on October 3, 2025, the film faced a tough reception at the commercial box office, despite its high-profile star and festival buzz. The A24 drama earned approximately $5.9 million to $6 million domestically. This performance fell well short of industry expectations, which had projected an opening weekend gross ranging from $8 million to $15 million. The debut was notably lower than Johnson’s previous career-low, the 2010 action thriller Faster, which grossed $8.5 million. The low turnout on a $50 million production budget, highlights the challenge of drawing mass audiences to a gritty, character-driven drama, even one fronted by one of the world's most bankable stars.
Critics have largely divided the experience of watching The Smashing Machine into two distinct halves: the sensational lead performance and the uneven, often detached filmmaking. The overwhelming consensus is that this is the performance that turns Dwayne Johnson into a serious dramatic actor. Aided by astonishingly convincing prosthetics from Oscar-winner Kazu Hiro, Johnson completely disappears into the role of Mark Kerr, shedding his signature charisma for a soft-spoken, emotionally-stunted giant whose internal turmoil is constantly bubbling beneath the surface. The film’s best moments are often quiet, showing Kerr’s heartbreaking helplessness against his opioid addiction, and Johnson portrays the casual, almost robotic process of self-injection with chilling realism. While some suggest the entire film is an exercise in "Oscar Bait," the commitment and genuine vulnerability he brings is undeniable, cementing him as a strong contender for a Best Actor nomination.
Despite Johnson's triumph, director Benny Safdie’s first solo feature often falters by working against the conventional expectations of a sports drama. Safdie utilizes his signature gritty style, shooting on 16mm film to capture a raw, authentic 90s aesthetic, but he deliberately eschews the genre’s traditional tropes. There are few rousing training montages, and the fight scenes are unshowy and often filmed from outside the ring with a documentary-like distance, sometimes feeling more like an observational mood piece than a high-stakes thriller. This stylistic choice, while admirable in its intent to avoid cliché, results in a narrative that frequently wanders and lacks the propulsive tension of Safdie's previous work, leaving critics feeling the film's 123-minute runtime is sluggish.
Another point of contention is the film’s narrative focus, particularly the toxic, codependent relationship between Mark and his girlfriend, Dawn Staples, played by a sensational Emily Blunt. While Blunt brings a volatile, complicated energy, her character is frustratingly underwritten, often serving only as the "difficult girlfriend" who pushes Kerr’s emotional buttons rather than a fully realized person with her own struggles. This narrative imbalance adds to the sense that the film is a deliberate character study that struggles to find a cohesive story arc.
The main point of friction however, is the film’s inability to justify its existence in the shadow of the superior 2002 HBO documentary of the same name. Safdie’s film often feels compelled to restage scenes or hit the exact same narrative beats as the original documentary, making the dramatic retelling feel strangely redundant and less immediate than the non-fictional account. The overall result is a powerful showcase for its lead actor, but a dramatically inert film that, in its attempts to be an anti-biopic, ultimately pulls its dramatic punches.