The Smashing Machine tells the true story of Mark Kerr, an amateur wrestler and MMA fighter (an extreme and very violent form of wrestling where virtually anything goes) in the late 90s.
Most of Kerr’s fights, Kerr’s played by a virtually unrecognisable Dwayne Johnson, seem to take place in Japan. In-between fights his life mostly involves bickering with his wife (a woefully underused Emily Blunt) over things like letting the cat on the sofa and putting not enough bananas in his smoothy. It’s a bit like The Roses but without the laughs.
Johnson puts his soul into the role but it’s hard to see where he’s really extending himself. Apparently, he wants to get away from his Rock persona and I’m not sure who advised him to play Mark Kerr but playing a wrestler is hardly stretching his acting skills.
The problem with The Smashing Machine is that Kerr’s life, other than his fights, and if you’re not a wrestling fan you’ll wonder what all the fuss is about, wasn’t very eventful. This leaves The Smashing Machine with a plot that’s as thin as paper.
Much like Mickey Rourke’s performance in The Wrestler and Pamela Anderson’s in The Last Showgirl, Johnson’s performance feels like nothing more than a half-hearted effort to win an award.
The Smashing Machine isn’t bad, it’s just, like Johnson’s performance, not as good as some of the hype would have you believe.
