The Smashing Machine Review: Dwayne Johnson delivers a career-best performance in MMA biopic

Bennie Safdie, Dwayne Johnson, and Emily Blunt form a powerhouse trio in A24’s The Smashing Machine, a raw MMA biopic. Johnson disappears into the role, capturing Kerr’s cadence and mannerisms in a career-best performance. Those expecting nonstop fights may be surprised. The film emphasizes personal struggle over in-ring spectacle, unlike Warrior (2010) or The Iron Claw (2023).

The Smashing Machine Overview

Safdie takes an inspired approach to Kerr’s story. The film follows a broad chronology but resists the usual rags-to-riches arc. Drawing heavily from the 2002 documentary The Smashing Machine: The Life and Times of Extreme Fighter Mark Kerr, it delivers an unflinching look at his triumphs and struggles.

The film opens with Kerr dominating the World Vale Tudo Championships, charting his rise through late-90s UFC and Pride Fighting. Yet addiction and a toxic relationship with girlfriend Dawn (Emily Blunt) threaten his success. Kerr finds support in longtime friend Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader) and later Bas Rutten, though their presence only partly steadies him.

Johnson gives his finest performance to date, portraying Kerr as a gentle giant hiding deep fragility. He carries scenes featuring Rutten and Bader and matches Blunt’s intensity in every scene. Blunt plays Dawn with sharp edge, a partner whose craving for attention fuels Kerr’s downward spiral. A key exchange between Dawn and Coleman, exposing Kerr’s drinking before a critical fight, underscores their destructive relationship.

Production design excels at recreating late-90s MMA’s gritty atmosphere. The fights lack cinematic flair like Rocky or Creed, but grounded realism reinforces the unvarnished tone. The dour ending feels underwhelming, and the film skims over Kerr’s rehab, a process crucial to his comeback.

Ultimately, The Smashing Machine thrives on Johnson and Blunt, transforming Kerr’s tumultuous journey into one of 2025’s most compelling biopics.

First Loss for The Smashing Machine

Safdie and Johnson capture the psyche of an unbeaten fighter and the emotional wreckage when invincibility shatters.

The film opens with Kerr tearing through opponents at World Vale Tudo Championships and Pride, with a brief UFC detour. A reporter asks him about losing. Kerr freezes, unable to process the question.

That illusion ends in a brutal fight against Igor Vovchanchyn (Oleksandr Usyk). Kerr is knocked out and appeals the loss, claiming illegal knees to the head. Though ruled a No Contest, the emotional damage is done. Watching Kerr confront defeat is as devastating as any punch he takes.

Kerr’s Corner

Three figures orbit Kerr: Dawn, Coleman, and Rutten. Each affects his rise, fall and attempted comeback.

Coleman stabilizes Kerr, acting as mentor, confidant and corner man. He grounds Kerr when Dawn’s volatility escalates. Their bond is mutual; Kerr supports Coleman in his own late-career push. Coleman represents the calm and guidance Kerr desperately needs.

By contrast, Dawn and Kerr are combustible opposites. Kerr is passive; Dawn is attention-seeking and combative. Small, telling moments highlight their dysfunction—she half-starts a task, Kerr quietly completes it. The relationship is draining and toxic, yet Kerr cannot break free.

Rutten enters after rehab, guiding Kerr for the Pride Heavyweight Grand Prix. Under Rutten, Kerr finally regains focus. Rutten warns against returning to Arizona with Dawn, recognizing the danger. The tension between mentorship and Dawn’s pull highlights how fragile Kerr’s second chance truly is.

The Smashing Machine Final Thoughts

The Smashing Machine is not just about fights. It’s a study of a man battling self-worth. Safdie, Johnson and Blunt deliver a biopic that is emotionally raw and physically intense.

Johnson captures Kerr’s quiet intensity and vulnerability. Blunt adds a sharp, combustible energy that heightens every personal conflict.

The film’s strength lies in its unflinching depiction of Kerr’s world: highs of the cage, lows of addiction and complex relationships. Production design immerses viewers in gritty late-90s MMA. Fights lack cinematic flair, but realism reinforces the stakes. Some elements, like rehab, are skimmed. The ending is somber but emotionally resonant.

Ultimately, the film succeeds because it humanizes the fighter. It’s a brutal, unvarnished portrait of ambition, addiction, and resilience, anchored by unforgettable performances