American cinema has consistently been enthralled by professional fighters. Productions such as *Rocky, Raging Bull, The Fighter, The Wrestler, Cinderella Man, Creed, Million Dollar Baby, Girlfight, Ali, The Hurricane,* and *Warrior* have made a notable impact. Within this sports subgenre, performers like Sylvester Stallone, Robert De Niro, Russell Crowe, Will Smith, Hillary Swank, Michael B. Jordan, among others, have garnered critical praise, box office hit status, award nominations, and victories. Therefore, it is a calculated choice for Dwayne Johnson to shift from action-comedy star to dramatic heavyweight with *The Smashing Machine.*

The former professional wrestler, famously known as The Rock, has dedicated years to cultivating a wide appeal as a film star, from his masculine presence in the *Fast and Furious* series, to his voice role as Maui in *Moana*, to numerous action movies that lean on his charm. However, in *The Smashing Machine*, Johnson distances himself from his exaggerated persona to represent UFC fighter Mark Kerr.

His efforts are laudable, but the outcomes vary due to writer/director Benny Safdie’s complex narrative decisions and the alteration of Johnson’s look.

*The Smashing Machine* delves into Mark Kerr’s challenges outside the ring.

The drama scripted by Safdie starts in 1997, documenting Kerr’s MMA journey in the Ultimate Fighting Championship. Covering several years, the film transports viewers to Japan, where Kerr competes in Pride FC, and back to the U.S., where he trains while managing a tumultuous relationship with Dawn Staples (portrayed by Johnson’s *Jungle Cruise* co-star Emily Blunt).

Instead of centering on a singular goal, Safdie chooses a more fragmented method. Various scenes showcase Kerr’s peaks and valleys, juxtaposing “The Smashing Machine” persona in the ring with the tender man grappling with internal struggles. Yet, lacking a central narrative, the film appears directionless and without drive.

*The Smashing Machine* sidesteps sports drama tropes, yielding mixed results.

Kerr’s story resonates with common themes in the pro fighting world, as highlighted in *Dark Side of the Ring*. The intense physical demands can lead to substance abuse issues. Nevertheless, Safdie presents Kerr’s drug usage so nonchalantly that it feels commonplace rather than a grave issue. A vague dispute with Dawn later hints at Kerr’s difficulties.

Safdie and Johnson, who is also a producer, refrain from transforming Kerr’s low moments into sensationalism, yet the film delivers little to depict his struggle. A nearly lethal overdose is revealed through a phone call, and his rehabilitation happens offscreen. Consequently, his addiction battles are reduced to strained humor and passive-aggressive comments, leaving the punches pulled both in and out of the ring.

*The Smashing Machine* keeps viewers at a distance from Mark Kerr.

Safdie avoids the typical Hollywood boxing film conventions by keeping the cameras away from the ring. Unlike other filmmakers who utilize close-ups to capture boxers’ emotions, Safdie maintains a distance, emphasizing authenticity over spectacle. However, this decision leaves the audience emotionally remote.

Other genuine elements fare better. Handheld cameras inject energy, and a late ’90s/early ’00s soundtrack effectively establishes the period. Safdie’s unconventional casting, featuring nonactors such as fighters Ryan Bader and others, adds a sense of grounding and sincerity, with Bader making a notable impression.

For Johnson, authenticity meant gaining weight and utilizing prosthetics to resemble Kerr. Regrettably, Safdie’s choices impede Johnson’s performance.

Dwayne Johnson excels in *The Smashing Machine*, but the prosthetics present a challenge.

The make-up team deserves acknowledgement for effortlessly transforming Johnson, enabling him to present a performance that diverges from his typical portrayals. However, while the prosthetics conceal The Rock’s recognizable features, they also limit Johnson’s expressiveness. His subtle performance is frequently overshadowed by the prosthetic brow, creating shadows that obscure his eyes. This restricts the audience’s emotional connection to Kerr’s inner turmoil.

Ultimately, Johnson provides a career-defining performance, showcasing his ability to embrace more substantial roles. Blunt commits fully in a demanding part, and Safdie boldly ventures in his solo directorial debut. Nevertheless, a more precise focus on what resonates and what leaves viewers desiring more would have enhanced the film.

*The Smashing Machine* was critiqued after its North American Premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival. The film is set to release in theaters on Oct. 3.