Despite having studied kung fu for a couple years, I do not enjoy mixed martial arts (MMA) competitions, or the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) more familiarly.  Everything I learned about hand-to-hand combat emphasized the “defense” in self-defense.”  The goal is not to hurt others, but to prevent yourself from being hurt.  Throwing fists or kicks should always be a last resort.  This is a vaguely Christian way of looking at the world, though the more I have grown in my relationship with God, the less inclined am I to engage in such activity.  As such, I did not look forward to The Smashing Machine, a biopic about sport pioneer Mark Kerr (Dwayne Johnson), with any kind of anticipation.  What made me curious was seeing Johnson’s performance.  From watching the trailer, you might not recognize the former professional wrestler.  That is worth something.  As for the rest, you can decide from this review.

After leaving behind a brief career in wrestling, Mark “The Smashing Machine” Kerr decides to enter the nascent sport of mixed martial arts.  It is the late 1990s, and we meet him as he is winning his first tournament in Brazil.  Through interviews, he explains the allure of the being in the ring, and the emotional high that comes from victory in a situation that calls for someone to hurt or be hurt.  He sustains plenty of hurt himself, which leads to many trips to the doctor’s office.  In doing so, he is introduced to opioids, which were commonly prescribed by medical professionals at this time.  Away from fighting, he lives with his girlfriend, Dawn Staples (Emily Blunt).  Their relationship is . . . contentious.  I am struggling for a description here because it is all over the emotional spectrum.  At first, it seems loving, though she appears to be unaware of his growing addiction to pain medication.  Even though they are close, she stays home while he heads to Japan to take part in an MMA league called Pride FC.  Once his contract is straightened out, he begins to compete, and this is when Dawn comes over to be with him.  Before his bout, he is strangely distant, at least to her, and she blames it on the medication, which she discovers at some point.  Whatever is the cause, he gets into the ring and loses.  Everyone is shocked, especially him.  Ignoring her attempts at sympathy, he goes to league officials and complains of illegal strikes.  It results in a “no contest” ruling, which Dawn sees as a positive but dissatisfies Kerr.  While he broods in the locker room, she steps out to talk to Mark Coleman (Ryan Bader), informing him of her belief that her boyfriend had been high.  Not long after returning to their Phoenix, Arizona, home, Dawn frantically calls Coleman to tell him that Kerr is on the floor unresponsive.  Coleman immediately flies to see his friend.  In the hospital, Kerr tries to explain away what had happened, but Coleman knows better.  It is clear that Kerr has a problem, and he throws away all his drugs upon being released from the hospital.  While he goes into rehabilitation, Coleman travels to Japan to take part in Pride FC. Once Kerr has completed his program, he is welcomed by Dawn.  They attempt to resume their life together, but while he is away from fighting, he appears antsy, fussing over trivial things around the house.  It puts a strain on their relationship.  They have a tense argument when she takes a few more Advil than is advised, and he says that doing so is a test of his sobriety.  She is frustrated by what she claims is his selfishness and a lack of a desire to help her understand his perspective.  It leads to them splitting up, and he returns to training to re-enter the Pride FC.  At one point, his trainer, Bas Rutten (as himself), injures himself.  Kerr gives Bas an opioid dose, but promptly throws the rest away, underscoring his commitment to staying clean.  The work Kerr puts in pays off as he wins the first match of the subsequent tournament.  In so doing, it moves him closer to having to go against Coleman, but neither seem to be worried about this potentiality.  In between their fights, they go back to the United States to continue their preparations, but Dawn is now back with Kerr.  Against Bas’ better judgement, Kerr makes a trip back to the house he shares with Dawn and they are about to host a party.  Before the guests arrive, an argument breaks out as to whether she will be coming with him to Japan.  He will not commit to it, and she takes more offense than he expects.  He demands that she leave, but she goes into their room to get a gun.  She puts it to her temple, but he prevents her from pulling the trigger.  The night ends with her in the back of a police car, going for psychological evaluation.  With that, it is on to Japan where, in his next fight, he falls to the mat and finds that he cannot move.  In other words, he loses, while Coleman goes on to win the tournament, while he gets stitches in his chin.  The film closes with the real-life Mike Kerr in 2025 in a grocery store in Scottsdale, Arizona, some information about his since 2000 shown before the end credits.

Some of that information at the end of The Smashing Machine includes how he had been married to Dawn for six years, and that he retired from fighting in 2009.  It looks like a short career, although bear in mind that he was almost thirty when he started MMA.  What is also brief is my synopsis.  It is not that I was trying to cut short my description, but it is because of the film’s content.  There is not much to Kerr’s life, which is okay by this simple Catholic.  A lot of fighters have an almost monk-like devotion to their craft, and they do not tolerate well any distractions.  If only he had focused on something like Catholicism, he probably would have been much healthier.  As it is, all I can do is make a hypothetical comparison.  A monk follows a structure of prayer and work.  Kerr diets, trains, and fights.  I suppose one could add arguing with Dawn, but that is the kind of distraction that takes one away from their calling, be they an MMA participant or a religious brother in a monastery.  In other words, there is not much to say.  Ironically, I wrote a lot of notes, but they mostly have to do with the topic of pain.  I will save that discussion for the next paragraph.  Otherwise, and this is a criticism that I do not like to use, I was mostly bored with the movie.  There are some great performances, mainly from Johnson, but there is not much that happens other than this cycle of train, fight, argue, repeat.

The Smashing Machine is a repetitive film, but where I would like to focus my Catholic attention is on the measures undertaken to minimize pain.  In this, we see the dangers of making an idol out of winning instead of giving yourself to God.  Early on, Kerr discusses winning as the best feeling in the world, and that nothing else matters to him.  He also calls it “evolutionary” and “magical.”  You can see how victory in the ring makes him feel like a god, and that he will do anything to experience it.  The problem with such actions, as Christianity has long taught, is that they do nothing for us.  The Bible is full of examples of men making for themselves things they believe are their god in spite of all the true God has done for them.  What is it that MMA does for Kerr?  A more cynical person would argue that it earned him fame and fortune, but at what cost?  God has tested some of his people over the centuries, but the reward of Heaven far outweighs the pride of defeating your opponents in combat.  I use that word not simply because it is in the name of the MMA league, but it also caught my eye on a t-shirt Bas wears towards the end.  It reads “Pain is temporary.  Pride is forever.”  Pain is temporary, but pride can lead you down some bad paths, like opioid addiction, not having a stable relationship, or permanent damage to one’s body.  These are all things Kerr experiences.  A Christian might refer to this as the wages of sin.  This is not to suggest that merely becoming an MMA fighter is sinful.  Rather, it is about making it your whole life when it should be something bigger like God that is central.  Not doing that is the problem.

Luckily, watching The Smashing Machine is not as big a problem as I thought it would be.  It is just not terribly exciting. If you get past the boredom, it is also a difficult film to watch.  There is nothing too objectionable, it has some good performances, but otherwise it is a pass for me.