In the gritty world of mixed martial arts, few stories hit as hard as that of Mark Kerr, the UFC heavyweight whose triumphs and torments now fuel Benny Safdie's directorial debut, The Smashing Machine. Set for a limited theatrical rollout on October 3, 2025, via A24, the film chronicles a turbulent three-year slice of Kerr's life in the late 1990s, from his dominance in the ring to battles with addiction and personal loss. Dwayne Johnson, bulked up and stripped down, embodies Kerr with a raw vulnerability that critics are already hailing as career-defining.
Safdie, known for his kinetic collaborations with brother Josh on films like Uncut Gems, steps out solo here, adapting a 2002 documentary of the same name. The movie zigs away from typical sports biopic glory—think less Rocky, more a hazy meditation on pain's aftershocks. Emily Blunt co-stars as Kerr's wife Dawn Staples, bringing a quiet intensity that anchors the chaos. Indeed, their on-screen dynamic underscores the film's core: how violence in the octagon spills into everyday fragility. Supporting turns from actual MMA vets like Bas Rutten and Ryan Bader add authenticity, making the fight scenes feel less staged and more visceral.
Reviews pouring in from Venice, where it snagged the Silver Lion on September 1, paint a picture of acclaim tempered by introspection. Variety called it a "laceratingly humane" take, praising Johnson's restraint over bombast. However, some outlets, like The A.V. Club, note a certain narcotized drift in the pacing, as if Safdie's stylistic flourishes occasionally blunt the narrative's edge. Rotten Tomatoes scores hover around 85% from early critics, signaling strong buzz but not unqualified triumph. Moreover, the film's score by Nala Sinephro weaves ethereal vibes into the brutality, a choice that elevates yet sometimes distances.
At 137 minutes, The Smashing Machine isn't just about knockouts; it's a reminder of what lingers after the bell. As Johnson sheds his action-hero sheen for something deeper, one wonders if this marks a pivot for Hollywood's muscle man—or merely a fleeting grapple with indie cred.