The Rock’s Smashing Machine: Flabby, Unscripted Wrestling Performance

It’s hard to imagine a time before MMA took over the pay-per-view channels of every bar room and dorm in North America. But it wasn’t that many years ago it was on the metaphorical ropes: targeted for extermination by U.S. Sen. john McCain and attacked as barbaric even while organizations like UFC and Pride competed for ever-dwindling air time.

Into those rings walked Mark Kerr, the six-foot-three-inch, 250-plus-pound “Smashing Machine” whose favorite pastime was exerting his indomitable will upon the men foolish enough to join him in the octagon.

That’s not to suggest Kerr is a violent man. Rather, the dichotomy between his insatiable bloodlust for physical dominance on the mat and his doe-eyed, soft-shoe familiarity off it is indeed a huge part of benny Safdie’s new, similarly titled *the smashing Machine*. In fact, that may be the only point the Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson-lead film has to make.

Sure, there is an actual story here; documenting an oddly selected (more on that later) portion of the fighter’s up-and-down career, *The Smashing Machine* is a subject-approved exposé on how Kerr (Johnson) lost it all, (theoretically) changed his outlook, then fought to get it all back.

In setting that journey up, we join Kerr on a high: waltzing into fights with an awe-shucks grin, before waltzing back out with glittering championship belts – holding his wife Dawn (Emily Blunt) in his arms and giving befuddling interviews to Japanese journalists outside the Japanese-set Pride fights.

*WATCH | The Smashing Machine trailer: *

One journalist has to prod him after asking him to consider how he would hypothetically handle losing a match, after he fails to actually answer the question. But it’s an impossibility for Kerr: He can’t fathom the concept of losing. It doesn’t fit into his mind, Kerr explains, while grinning like a lobotomized King kong. Next question?

Of course, this is a setup for a fall. Kerr’s fans won’t be surprised to see it: The gentle slide into general catatonia as a pain pill addiction creeps in from the sidelines. Then, it’s missed matches, dwindling opportunities, hospitalizations and knock-down, drag-out fights with Dawn.

Friendly fighter

Except not actual fights, of course, Kerr’s unflappable aversion to real-life confrontation is constantly contrasted against his descriptions of literally bending fighters to his will, of physically forcing people to submit to him, comparing this to a drug-like high.

These comparisons are everywhere, shown as Kerr calmly explains the source of his battered face to a disapproving elderly woman at the do

The Enduring Appeal of the Fallen Boxer at the Oscars

The story of the aging, often self-destructive, boxer has proven remarkably potent at the Academy Awards. from early classics to modern dramas, the trope of the prizefighter grappling with physical decline, personal demons, and a lost glory has consistently resonated with voters, earning acting nominations for actors like Denzel Washington in The Hurricane, Will Smith in Ali, and Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler, and culminating in wins for Robert De Niro in Raging Bull and Wallace Beery in The Champ. But even nearly a century ago, the narrative wasn’t entirely novel, and its success relied heavily on powerful performances.

A History Rooted in Sentiment: The Champ (1931)

The earliest Oscar recognition for this archetype came with the 1931 film The Champ, starring Wallace Beery. The film won an Academy award for Best Actor, recognizing Beery’s portrayal of andy Purcell, an aging boxer struggling to provide for his son. However, contemporary critics weren’t entirely convinced by the film’s narrative strength.

In a review published shortly after the film’s release, the New York Times https://www.nytimes.com/1931/11/10/archives/the-screen-father-and-son.html described The Champ as “a slight story supported entirely by its performances,” and lamented that it was “one of those tried and trusted affairs that were all very well in the days of old silent pictures, but something more novel and subtle is needed now.” This critique highlights a key element of the trope’s success: the emotional core delivered by the actor, often overshadowing the predictability of the plot itself.

the Champ was released in November 1931, during a period when boxing films were gaining popularity, frequently enough focusing on themes of redemption and the harsh realities of the sport.

Why the Boxer’s Tale Resonates

The enduring appeal of the “fallen boxer” narrative lies in its potent combination of universal themes. These include:

* Physicality and Vulnerability: Boxing inherently showcases the human body pushed to its limits, creating a visceral connection with the audience. The decline of a boxer emphasizes vulnerability and mortality.
* Redemption and Second Chances: Many of these stories explore the possibility of redemption, even in the face of overwhelming odds and past mistakes.
* Sacrifice and Fatherhood: The boxer often sacrifices everything for loved ones, particularly their children, adding a layer of emotional depth. The Champ exemplifies this,with the boxer’s primary motivation being to secure a future for his son.
* The Price of Glory: The narrative frequently examines the cost of ambition and the toll that pursuing greatness can take on an individual.
* Substance Abuse and Self-Destruction: The struggles with addiction and self-sabotage add complexity and realism to the character, making them relatable despite their flaws.

From Beery to De Niro and Beyond: Oscar Recognition

The success of The champ paved the way for future boxing dramas to find favor with the Academy. Here’s a look at some of the key Oscar-nominated and winning performances:

* Wallace Beery – The Champ (1931): Best Actor – Winner

* Robert De Niro – Raging Bull (1980): Best Actor – Winner – De Niro’s intense and physically demanding performance as Jake LaMotta is widely considered a landmark achievement in acting.
* Denzel Washington – The Hurricane (1999): Best actor – Nominated – washington’s portrayal of Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, a boxer wrongly convicted of murder, brought attention to a real-life injustice.
* Will Smith – Ali (2001): Best Actor – Nominated – Smith’s energetic and charismatic performance captured the complexity of Muhammad Ali, both inside and outside the ring.
* Mickey Rourke – The Wrestler (2008): Best Actor – Nominated – Rourke’s raw and emotionally vulnerable performance as a washed-up wrestler (a close cousin to the boxer) resonated deeply with audiences and critics.

Key Takeaways

* The “fallen boxer” trope has a long and prosperous history at the Academy Awards.
* Early films like The Champ relied heavily on strong performances to overcome somewhat predictable storylines.
* The narrative’s enduring appeal stems from its exploration of universal themes like vulnerability, redemption, and sacrifice.
* Actors consistently deliver powerful performances in these roles, often earning oscar recognition.

The Future of the Boxing Narrative

While the boxing film may not be as prevalent as it once was, the core themes of the genre – struggle, resilience, and the pursuit of redemption – remain timeless. It’s likely that future films will continue to explore these themes, perhaps