"The Smashing Machine" - Who dis?

I noted in my review of One Battle After Another that I had seen exactly none of director Paul Thomas Anderson's previous films. That is nearly the case with The Smashing Machine's director, Benny Safdie. I’ve seen exactly one of Safdie’s films - Uncut Gems. And I hated Uncut Gems. A lot. Apparently, I hated it so much that I my subconscious made me forget to include it in my 2019 Year in Review.

I didn’t know Safdie was the director of The Smashing Machine until after I watched the movie, so I wasn’t biased going into it. In retrospect, it makes total sense that it was directed by Safdie (this time directing solo). Uncut Gems came off like a naked attempt to see if Safdie (and his brother and co-director Josh) could yank an Oscar-worthy performance out of Adam Sandler. Many people thought they had, but I found the performance insufferable because I don’t enjoy watching someone scream-act their way through a film. The Smashing Machine also comes off like a naked attempt to see if Safdie can extract an Oscar-worthy performance, this time from Dwayne Johnson. Yes, that Dwayne Johnson.

I’m not alone in wondering why The Smashing Machine is a feature length film. I’m not even alone in wondering why it’s a film at all. It’s a biopic of a mixed martial arts (MMA) fighter named Mark Kerr. Wait, who? Mark...something, who might be the most who? of MMA fighters ever. Everyone exiting the theater had the same question - why Mark Kerr? Wait, who? Something...Kerr? Exactly. Imagine someone making a movie about second baseman Marty Barrett of the 1986 Red Sox. Who indeed.

Kerr (Johnson) was an MMA fighter in the earlier days of MMA and the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC). And by earlier, I mean 1997-2009. The film focuses on the middle part of his career from 1999 to 2000, specifically two tournaments in Japan, as well as his personal life. It’s the point in his career where he was at his peak, then saw his career begin an unremarkable downward journey experienced by a million athletes before him.

The title implies that we’re going to get to see some of Kerr’s fights where he demolishes other human beings. And at first, we do. Briefly. In a shaky-cam, outside-the-ropes montage of Kerr fighting his way to an 11-0 record. Complete with commentary telling us how devastating he is because the footage showing it to us is hardly convincing. I expected to see Kerr standing over the bloody pulps of his vanquished foes, but instead we saw the same sweaty, mildly bloodied fight endings of most modern MMA/UFC fights. What we could see through the ropes, that is.

I thought maybe Safdie chose Kerr because Kerr was instrumental in the UFC gaining popularity, especially since this was during the time Congress and most states were trying to ban UFC and MMA fights altogether. But nope. The film makes a point of showing Kerr actively reject fighting in the UFC because Pride offered more money. Inspiring, no?

Maybe it was Kerr’s personal life that made him an intriguing sports subject? Again, not even close. As Tom Hanks’ character laments in That Thing You Do! - “it’s a very common tale.” Kerr is in a rocky relationship with his girlfriend Dawn (Emily Blunt). Dawn seems bipolar, her emotions swinging wildly from doting and caring to gold-digger to instigator to suicidal. Mark seems like a gentle giant, saving his anger for the ring and straining not to punch Dawn into another timeline every time she picks a fight with him. And they fight. A lot.

Mark is also addicted to painkillers. Big surprise, right? We don’t know for how long he’s been addicted, but it’s definitely months, if not years, prior to his first failure in the ring in the first of the Japan tournaments we see. After that fight, his addiction spirals so much that he ends up in the hospital after an overdose. After recovering, he goes to rehab, gets better, and it’s back to fighting. That’s it. No real drama, no suspensions or sanctions from fighting, no match where he starts spasming and collapses into a pool of his own vomit while forty million people watch on Pay-Per-View. Just your typical, run-of-the-mill drug addiction quietly conquered by your typical, run-of-the-mill rehab. Like a million people before him.

So, seriously, why Mark Kerr? Best I can come up with is Kerr is such an aggressively average and uncomplicated human that Safdie was confident Johnson could definitely handle the range required to portray Kerr. Doesn’t hurt that 1999 Kerr and Johnson share the same body physique, though the prosthetics and makeup applied to Johnson’s head and face to make him look more like Kerr (and less like Johnson) was far more of a distraction than anything it might have added to the realism. It also didn’t help Johnson that Emily Blunt was brilliant, overshadowing Johnson in every scene, and made Dawn a more intriguing character than Kerr. Even the character of Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader), Kerr’s longtime friend and fellow fighter, was more interesting than Kerr. Coleman’s story follows the standard sports movie formula. He’s the grizzled, older underdog making a comeback – and unlike Kerr, Coleman wins.

As it turns out, this isn’t even the first film made about Kerr. This film appears to be a remake of a 2002 HBO documentary also titled The Smashing Machine. That documentary also focuses on the same time period (1997-2000) and hits the same beats, including Dawn and painkillers. However, the documentary was just 78 minutes long, whereas the new film is 123 long minutes. Even 78 minutes feels too long. This story is barely enough to fill an ESPN 30-for-30 episode (60 minutes) and it would be a very run-of-the-mill 60 minutes.

Rating: Ask for half of your money back, just like a million other people before you.