If you walked away from The Smashing Machine feeling like you’d just been ringside for a brutal fight, that was no accident. Director Benny Safdie deliberately crafted every bone-crunching moment to mirror the raw, unforgiving nature of 1990s mixed martial arts. But here’s where it gets controversial: in an era where fight scenes often feel sanitized or choreographed, Safdie’s biopic about MMA pioneer Mark Kerr (played by a nearly unrecognizable Dwayne Johnson) pulls no punches—literally. Using the 2002 Kerr documentary and vintage cage-fight footage as blueprints, Safdie and his team—including real MMA stars, stuntmen, and sound experts—established strict rules to ensure every slam, punch, and knee strike felt as visceral as the real thing.
“We were meticulous about replicating the fights as they actually happened,” Safdie explains. “Yes, we condensed some of the longer bouts, but I wanted to honor the historical brutality of those matches.” And brutal they were—far rougher than today’s MMA. Prizefighter Ryan Bader, making his acting debut as Kerr’s friend Mark Coleman, admits the line between real and fake fighting was often blurred. “I’d never faked a fight before,” Bader says. “I told the stunt team, ‘If I pull my punches, it’ll look real, but on the ground, some of those hits were genuine.’ One guy even ended up with a cauliflower ear after I hit too hard.”
To sell the intensity, cameras were kept outside the ring—a bold departure from most boxing films, which place viewers inches from the action. Smashing Machine’s cinematographer, Maceo Bishop, explains, “We wanted to maintain the line between athletes and audience, to keep viewers on the edge of their seats without crossing into spectacle.” Handheld shots were intentionally obstructed by extras, adding to the chaotic, arena-like feel. And this is the part most people miss: the sound design. The fingerless grappling gloves used in MMA create sharper, more painful impact noises than boxing gloves, enhanced by hours of recordings of skin-on-skin contact. Even a lifelike silicone dummy of Johnson’s upper body was used for knee-to-head shots, which, surprisingly, everyone found fun to punch.
But here’s the real kicker: the sound team, led by Oscar-winner Skip Lievsay, avoided the over-the-top ‘chop-socky’ cliches of traditional fight films. Instead, they layered in percussive elements reminiscent of jazz drumming, a fresh approach that builds tension as the fights escalate. Yet, even with all this realism, Safdie admits he had to employ a few tricks—like coaching heavyweight champion Oleksandr Usyk to adjust his punches for the camera. “How do you tell the undisputed heavyweight champ his punches don’t look good?” Safdie jokes. Spoiler: he survived to tell the tale.
Is The Smashing Machine too brutal, or does it finally give audiences the raw, unfiltered fight experience they’ve been missing? Let’s debate in the comments—do you think modern fight films have lost their edge, or is there a line between realism and exploitation?
