'The Smashing Machine' Cheryl Dunn/Venice Film Festival Share on Facebook Share on X Share to Flipboard Send an Email Show additional share options Share on LinkedIn Share on Pinterest Share on Reddit Share on Tumblr Share on Whats App Print the Article Post a Comment Sticks, stones, body blows and multiple knees to the head may break his bones, but names are what do real damage to pioneering UFC fighter Mark Kerr, a beast of a man who could crush opponents in the ring and fall apart as soon as he stepped outside it. In Benny Safdie's compellingly gritty and offbeat biopic, The Smashing Machine, Kerr wavers between hot and cold, passive and aggressive, chilled-out on the couch and pulverizing a door in his living room, showcasing a fragility that's way bigger than his ballooning biceps. Played by Dwayne Johnson in the wrestler-turned-actor's most absorbing turn yet, the mixed martial arts champ anchors a rise-and-fall fight flick that takes many cues from the genre but never delivers a Rocky-style knockout - nor does it even try to. Related Stories Movies 'The Testament of Ann Lee' Review: Amanda Seyfried Channels Agony and Ecstasy in Audacious Epic That's Easier to Admire Than to Love Lifestyle Amanda Seyfried Borrows Julia Roberts' Versace Look for Venice Film Festival: "Sharing Is Caring" The Smashing Machine The Bottom Line A well-performed and punishing fight flick, both in and out of the ring. Venue: Venice Film Festival (Competition)Cast: Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Ryan Bader, Bas RuttenDirector, screenwriter, editor: Benny Safdie 2 hours 3 minutes Marking the director's first feature made apart from his brother, Josh, the film retains much of what rendered the Safdies' work so original: a stylized moody realism; a cast mixing trained actors with regular people; an overall downbeat vibe enlivened by flashes of raw humor and energy; and stories carried by protagonists often addicted to something, whether it's theft (The Pleasure of Being Robbed, Good Time), drugs (Heaven Knows What) or gambling (Uncut Gems). Sports have also been a Safdie staple, from their melancholic b-ball doc Lenny Cooke to Adam Sandler's obsession with the NBA in Gems, and this may explain why both bros chose to make solo debuts about two very particular kinds of professional athletes. In Josh's case, that would be a 1950s table tennis star in his upcoming Marty Supreme, whereas Benny focuses here on an ex-college wrestler duking it out in the early years of the UFC, when fighters were far from household names and the sport wasn't yet a billion-dollar behemoth (not to mention a favorite of America's current president). Set between 1997 and 2000, a period which saw Kerr punching, headbutting and grappling his way through tournaments in the U.S., Brazil and Japan, Safdie's script underscores how the UFC started as a fringe organization whose poorly paid brawls usually ended in blood. The violence is what both repelled and attracted the public, and it eventually takes its toll on Kerr, who practices mixed martial arts as a discipline requiring rigorous training, which he does with best bud and fellow MMA fighter Mark Coleman. The latter is played by former UFC fighter Ryan Bader in a convincingly grounded performance, while Kerr's trainer for his final bouts is played by UFC legend Bas Rutten. This means that three of the four main cast members in The Smashing Machine are real heavyweights with bulging cauliflower ears. (Johnson's were impressively created by prosthetic designer Kazu Hiro, who makes the actor nearly unrecognizable.) And yet Safdie coaxes great turns out of all of them, focusing on the gristly camaraderie the men share - how they may look mean as hell in the ring but are more like gentle giants in person. In fact, Kerr is such a sweetheart that he tends to gets stomped on by his longtime girlfriend, Dawn (Emily Blunt), who winds up posing a greater threat to him than any of his opponents. Aggressive, nagging, constantly chewing gum in an obnoxious manner, but also supportive and loving when Kerr hits some seriously rough patches throughout the narrative, Dawn is both the bedrock for the fighter's rollercoaster of a career and his Achilles' heel. Safdie stages their squabbles as intensely as the ones in the octagon, in a movie that shifts between the pounding blows Kerr puts up with as a pro fighter and the mental anguish Dawn gives him at home. This isn't to say she's solely responsible for all the domestic drama: Kerr is under so much pressure that he can be impossible to live with, going from intensive training periods when he judges how well Dawn makes his protein shakes in the morning, to opiate-fueled binges that leave him comatose on the bathroom floor. Still, the film stacks the cards rather heavily against its female lead, forcing Blunt to play a woman who seems to do more harm than good to the man she loves. Kerr's many weaknesses are also the strengths of a story in which fights are lost more often than t