OSCARS 2026: The Smashing Machine (2025)

Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson's journey from popular pro-wrestler to the biggest movie star in the world didn't happen based on the size of his biceps or how many reps he could do. Johnson has a megawatt smile, an irrepressible charm, an ability to command the screen, to make himself the center of attention no matter what is going on around him. For a brief period, all of that was enough to carry him from one blockbuster hit to another. However, sometime around 2018 or so, the shine started to come off that diamond. Maybe it was overexposure. Johnson was a key part of massive worldwide franchises like “Fast & Furious” and Disney. He had a successful TV show and multiple brand spokesman gigs. Maybe it was just because the movies weren't there. Films like “Skyscraper,” “Central Intelligence,” and “Jungle Cruise” started to feel more generic, more forgettable. Some would suggest that ego – including a supposed contractual clause that he never loses a fight on-screen – plays a role. Either way, by the time Johnson was attempting to brute-force “Black Adam” into a world-wide popular character, there was a stink of desperation about his career. Suddenly, Dwayne's desire to make audiences love him went from likable to off-putting. 

Since he could no longer be counted on to make a movie a hit with his charm alone, it was time to pursue another avenue: To prove he was a real actor, a true thespian. Yes, it was time for the Oscar bid. An inspiring true story still within Johnson's wheelhouse was found: The documentary “The Smashing Machine,” about the career of embattled Mixed Martial Arts star Mark Kerr. That movie was directed by John Hyams, a maker of reliably intense B-movies that hasn't broken through into the mainstream much. Hyams doesn't have awards season shine though. Benny Safdie, freed from his partnership with his brother and presumably eager to prove his solo talent, was an established critical darling. A24, the hippest of hip distributors and production companies, then came on-board the film. As the tone of the trailers made increasingly clear, Safdie's "The Smashing Machine" represented Johnson trying to manifest himself an Oscar the same way he tried to manifest a superhero franchise with “Black Adam.” Once again, it did not work. Despite aggressive campaigning, it received one nomination, in the decidedly less prestigious category of Best Hair and Make-Up. What of the film itself?

Mark Kerr would begin his athletic career as an amateur wrestler. (Actual wrestling, not the "sports entertainment" kind.) After beating more famous people like Randy Couture and Kurt Angle, Kerr would move into mixed martial arts. During the nineties, Kerr would become a repeated champion in the world of a sport that was slowly catching on all over the world. Kerr would soon begin an undefeated streak for Pride Fighting Championship. This is when “The Smashing Machine” comes in. Developing an addiction to painkillers, his relationship with girlfriend Dawn becomes more tense. After losing a Pride fight for the first time, Kerr's self esteem spirals. After having a heart attack, he endeavors to get clean and compete in the 2000 Pride Grand Prix. At the same time, his close friend and sparring partner Mark Coleman also seems to have a clear shot at the championship, leading to the inevitable conclusion that the two buddies might have to fight each.

“The Smashing Machine” is clearly an attempt by Johnson to shed his movie star persona and become absorbed in a performance. He adapts Kerr's particular speech pattern, a result of missing several teeth from fights. He refers to his “tummy” multiple times. He bleeds, gets stitches, shoots up drugs, screams, gasps for breath, and sweats. I think a third of “The Smashing Machine's” budget must have been spent on fake sweat. Though his pectorals are as impressive and arms as vein-y as ever, Johnson carries himself throughout “The Smashing Machine” as a man barely holding it together. He is always stiff, shoulders back, arms to his side. Whenever chatting with his manly friends or the press, he adopts a friendly bro-like persona that reads as blatantly performative. This is a guy desperate not to look like a failure. Naturally, when he does lose a fight, he spirals into drug addiction and messy arguments with Dawn. The arc of “The Smashing Machine” is of a man afraid of being perceived as a loser learning that it's okay to fail, to be vulnerable.  

That is a compelling character arc. It is also a good subversion of Johnson's tough guy image, deliberately showing that there is a sad, struggling human being behind all that rippling sinew. However, something feels off. The Oscar clip moment occurs when Kerr is in the hospital, recovering from that heart attack. Coleman tries to talk with him, Kerr assuming his usual laid-back demeanor... Before he suddenly drops it, bursting into tears. It feels as calculated as the expertly timed cocked eyebrows or elbow drops he did in the ring. There's the foundation of a good performance here. Johnson has the skills to make Kerr's feelings genuine, to make his pain and triumph palatable. Despite looking like the Rock, he makes Kerr seem like a regular guy a few times. 

Throughout the film, however, I repeatedly found myself wondering something: Why is Mark like this? What happened in his life to make him so guarded about his feelings? Why does he feel an intense drive to succeed all the time, taking a single loss as a devastating blow that he nearly dies over? The script does not specify. The film also does not go into details about Mark's painkiller addiction, only hinting at the ever-present pain he must feel from countless blows to the head and body that pushes him to shoot up. We see very little of Mark struggling with drug addiction after his promise to get clean. The film does not explore his childhood, his backstory, or any of the psychological impulse that make him act this way. There's a scene, where Mark stands outside a carnival ride while Dawn is inside. He stares to the side, the camera focusing on his face and physical demeanor as he waits. Instead of me feeling a sense of his detachment from Dawn or being left out of his own life, I simply found myself with no idea what this guy was thinking at all.

Part of this is because of the decisions Safdie, cinematographer Maceo Bishop, and composer Nata Sinephro make. “The Smashing Machine” seeks to replicate the documentary-like visuals from its source film. There's a sheen of unpolished grit to the images, looser camera movements. This also means pulling back from the characters. In “The Smashing Machine,” we always feel like we are watching the characters, not apart of their lives. There's a noticeable distance between the cast and the camera placement. This makes sense for the fight scene, to copy the sensation of watching from the audience. When applied to the rest of the movie, it makes us feel detached from Mark and his struggles. When paired with a musical score that is discordant and inexplicably jazzy at times, the result is a movie that feels nearly as closed-up to the viewer as its protagonist is to his girlfriend. 

And about that romantic subplot. Emily Blunt gives a good performance as Dawn. She accurately plays a woman who is frustrated with a man who won't let her get any closer. Their arguments seem plausible and not melodramatic, clearly born out an inability for these two to communicate. Unfortunately, part of that lack of communication means Dawn doesn't take Mark's concerns seriously. While he's getting sober, she goes out drinking with friends. She mocks him calling his sponsor at one point. She outright admits she preferred Mark when he was high, so she could take care of him. She also picks the night before a big fight or during a tense training session to start an argument. Her most dramatic moment occurs when Dawn puts a gun to her head at the climax of another argument. This does not make me want to root for these two kids to work it out. These two need to break up. They are not healthy for each other. The script seems to take it for granted that the couple need to be together for their own good, when all the evidence suggests otherwise. 

When Johnson is a producer on “The Smashing Machine,” it is easy to blame him for the failure of the film. (Which includes commercially, as the movie flopped.) However, I think he was up to the task of giving an Oscar-winning performance. Instead, as always, it's the script, stupid. “The Smashing Machine” feels half-formed, unable to take us inside the head of a character we are clearly meant to connect to. It must have been a deliberate choice, as every aspect of the film keeps us from figuring out makes Mark tick. The film follows all the beats of a inspiring arc, in its final scene where Kerr finally accepts that it's okay to lose. It rings hollow. Hopefully, Johnson keeps trying to prove his actorly chops, as I do think he has a great performance in him. But “The Smashing Machine” doesn't have what it takes to be a champion. [6/10]