Benny Safdie’s first solo directing effort without his brother Josh (together they made indie darlings Good Time and Uncut Gems) doesn’t follow the exact same anxiety-inducing, propulsive template of their first two films. Only time will tell if Josh’s forthcoming Marty Supreme is in that lane, but Benny’s The Smashing Machine is engaging, if perhaps not as complex as it could have been. It’s a portrait of three pivotal years in the life and career of Mark Kerr, one of the original American UFC fighters, in the late 1990s.
Kerr is played by Dwayne Johnson, one of the very few big-name actors who could credibly inhabit Kerr’s musculature and physicality. Johnson certainly delivers on that front, but he also delivers a quite strong interior performance of a relatively soft-spoken athlete battling demons of addiction, failure, and heartbreak. It’s easily the best performance of his career, and an Oscar nomination would be well-deserved. Emily Blunt is more than up to the task of portraying Kerr’s girlfriend (later wife) Dawn Staples. Their most intense scenes have an unmistakable fire and authenticity to them, in part the clear result of solid direction and dedication by Safdie.
As Kerr tries again and again to win one of the top tournaments in the world at the time, his health and personal life with Dawn swing wildly from day to day. Johnson and Blunt lend a real texture to their arguments and make-ups, and so it pains me to say that Safdie’s Achilles’ heel here is trusting his slightly detached documentary style too much. This is especially apparent toward the end of the film, when the need for a few more scenes of emotional connective tissue is glaringly obvious. It’s not that the whole film is empty-hearted or empty-headed; far from it. It’s just that we come away knowing some about Mark Kerr, but not nearly all we could have, judging by the pedigree of these artists.
The main cause of this incomplete feeling is the fact that we don’t see Kerr’s experience in rehab. The aftermath of his sobriety leads to a well-crafted argument between Mark and Dawn, but since the stint in rehab comes right in the middle of the film and informs so much of the rest, it almost feels like a whole reel is missing, even though the film is two hours long. It’s somewhat surprising how much more interiority Johnson gave his character than his director did, mainly by omission.
However, I want to make it clear that The Smashing Machine is nowhere near a total loss. The fight sequences are stunningly realized, especially when accompanied by Nala Sinephro’s jazzy score, which is less anachronistic than you might think. Overall, the film is an excellent 90s period piece as well, although noticing how well it’s staged in that sense does remind the viewer that that kind of authenticity is less important than full emotional authenticity. We should be admiring the drama more than the sets and costumes. Again, no one element here is bad in any way, but because of a few crucial decisions, it all adds up to slightly less than the sum of its parts. | George Napper
