Tag: Dwayne Johnson

The Smashing Machine (2025)

Johnson goes for Oscar in a mediocre film that arguably shows his limits as an actor not his depth

Director: Ben Safdie

Cast: Dwayne Johnson (Mark Kerr), Emily Blunt (Dawn Staples), Ryan Bader (Mark Coleman), Bas Rutten (Himself), Oleksandr Usyk (Igor Vovchanchyn), Lyndsey Gavin (Elizabeth Coleman), Satoshi Ishii (Enson Inoue), James Moontasti (Akira Shoji)

Mixed Martial Arts is big business today. The Smashing Machine makes a point of stating its stars are internationally known, earning millions of dollars. Making them not too dissimilar from The Smashing Machine’s star (and guiding light) Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, who achieved both these in MMA’s ‘scripted’ sibling Professional Wrestling. It’s a knowledge the film is banking on, as Johnson plays Mark Kerr a leading MMA fighter from that period in the late 90s when men were willing to have several layers of shit kicked-and-punched out of them for a few thousand dollars and a dream.

Kerr is one of the big draws of MMA, an affable six-foot mountain of muscle who (when not brutally beating others in the ring) is a hulk of likeability. But he’s got problems – for starters a growing reliance on opioid painkillers and a relationship that’s two thirds self-destructive to one-third mutually dependent with girlfriend Dawn (Emily Blunt). The Smashing Machine covers Kerr’s getting clean, the break-up and return of his volatile relationship and his shot at 2000 MMA title in Japan in 2000 that could land him $200k.

The Smashing Machine covers all this in a deliberately distanced, low-key style. It nominally follows sports film structure (triumph, failure, re-build, some level of success), trudging along the Rocky template. But Safdie avoids exploiting the genre’s strengths (the highs and joys and it’s emotional release) in a way that is both admirable and makes The Smashing Machine a less engaging or interesting film than you keep expecting it to be. It’s almost a point-of-pride that the film avoids the obvious, but instead languidly leaves things unsaid, or skims lightly over key plot developments, as it spools out accompanied by an incessant jazz soundtrack. But it’s not always a strength.

What it fails to do is find something sufficiently interesting or compelling to take their place. It has all the surface appearance of raw, true-life drama: the jerky camera-work, jazzy score, muted colours, roughed-up actors – but is constantly too distanced and cautious to be truly raw. It (perhaps admirably) doesn’t want to be seen to exploit Kerr, but by playing down his struggles (or rather, boiling them down into neat little scenes ripe for “For your consideration” Oscar clips), it also makes them frequently feel like not that much of a deal. On top of this, the underlying desperation that could have been there in a film where people submit themselves (effectively) to ruleless cage fights like wage-slave gladiators never gets an airing.

It doesn’t even really explore the dark nature of the ‘romance’ at its heart, a relationship which seems categorically a ‘bad thing’ for both people (a coda reveals they married shortly after reuniting after the ballistic, emotion-packed row that is their final moments here – and separated within six years). This is a relationship where the two are never on an equinox. When Mark is in the depth of addiction, Dawn is both afraid of his drugged-out distance and enjoys his small-boy-like need for her affection. When he’s clean, Mark sermonises sanctimoniously while Dawn doubles down on drinking and pill-popping in front of him (“that’s not nice” Mark chides her, sounding like a disappointed child).

But, despite the disapproval hinted out from all the other characters in the film, The Smashing Machine shies away from really addressing this dangerous relationship, making it feel more like a formulaic awkward-love-story, rather than being braver with a harsh truth. In fact, that passionate heated romance, ends up feeling like somewhere between a rather forced series of contrived, manipulative moments (that have no real pay-off) and a firey acting exercise between two performers who trust each other.

Lack of bravery soaks through the whole film, a muted awkward affair where you feel different hands pulling in different directions (an on-the-nose commentator explains all the MMA action to us, as if a producer watching a late-cut was worried it would otherwise make no sense). It’s part a quiet, off-the-wall, yanging-when-it-could-ying serious character study (the Safdie side perhaps), part an Oscar bait slice of true-life heroism (the Johnson side).

Ah yes, the Oscar bait. Much play was made of how far Johnson was willing to move out of his comfort zone and cast aside the action that made him a star. However, for me, what The Smashing Machine reveals is the limits Johnson is willing to go too as an actor. The Rock doesn’t do vulnerability even when playing a beaten-up drug-addict in a borderline-mutually-abusive relationship (all the head-in-his-hands scenes weeping can’t change this, and Johnson delivers these moments like acting assignments rather than with true emotion). Johnson won’t sacrifice his strength of character to play a truly weak man: Johnson might punch a door apart, he never feels comfortable embodying a man who was at time selfish, self-destructive or foolish. Johnson prefers a Kerr who is always, in some degree, strong (even when whining at a loss, he does it with real commitment).

His partnership with Emily Blunt doesn’t help him: Blunt is far more skilled at creating a nuanced character, someone who weeps with pain at Kerr’s drug use and then later performatively rages at him for being boring when he’s clean. She’s not afraid to explore the darker, less flattering areas in the way Johnson doesn’t want to. Johnson makes the mistake of many in thinking real acting is starring soulfully and having a cry. What he doesn’t do is really commit to transforming his soul and persona: for all the wig, this always feel like a performance as in-control and carefully studied as Johnson himself is. The Smashing Machine shows that even a piece of against-type Oscar-bait is still fundamentally part of the same Johnson-branding exercise, another brick in the persona wall of a determined, charming high-achiever.

You can’t say as much for the film. An average film, lacking spark, energy or interest that can’t make up its mind about whether it wants to be low-key tragedy or a heroic tale of redemption. It says a lot that its most powerful and affecting moments are its closing ones, as we watch the real Kerr shopping in 2025, utterly anonymous, chatting pleasantly with staff who don’t know who he is before he breaks the fourth wall to wave us goodbye. In these minutes, the film clicks with a force nothing else in it manages. Shame you need to wait two hours for it.

GI Joe: Retaliation (2013)

Channing Tatum and Dwayne Johnson wonder how they landed in this mess in GI Joe: Retaliation

Director: Jon M. Chu

Cast: Dwayne Johnson (Roadblock), Bruce Willis (General Joe Colton), Channing Tatum (Duke), Jonathan Pryce (President of the US), Adrianne Palicki (Lady Jaye), DJ Controne (Flint), Ray Park (Snake Eyes), Byung-hun Lee (Storm Shadow), Ray Stevenson (Firefly), Arnold Vosloo (Zartan), Walton Goggins (Warden James), RZA (Blind master)

Back in 2009, Hasbro (flushed with success from its Transformers franchise) released GI Joe: a humble, straightforward nonsense actioner (almost exactly the sort of film spoofed by Team America) in which gung-ho American action heroes save the world, destroying major cities on the way. It was harmless, Stephen Sommers-directed fun. Critics hated it. Audiences saw it, but were basically meh. It left us on a cliff-hanger. The cliff-hanger led to this joyless, “by-contractual-obligation” reboot.

The villainous Zartan (Arnold Vosloo) has changed his entire DNA to make him an exact physical match for the President of the United States (Jonathan Pryce) and taken his place. Using his powers, he orders a surprise attack on the GI Joe force, wiping out their base. All the Joes, including Duke (Channing Tatum) are killed, except for Roadblock (Dwayne Johnson), Lady Jaye (Adrianne Palicki) and Flint (DJ Controne). Now they need to form a team to take revenge, defeat Zartan and prevent the plans of the newly escaped Cobra Commander.

Oh dear God this is an awful film: a truly dire comic book disaster, terribly written and practically incoherent in its plot and storyline, peopled from top to bottom with bored looking actors. It’s barely a sequel at all to the original film. In fact, it disregards most of the plot of GI Joe: Rise of Cobra altogether, barely acknowledging its existence. None of the plot threads of the first film are carried across at all, with the exception of the replacement of the President. On top of that, all the characters the first film spent time establishing as our heroes are unceremoniously dispatched (mostly off-screen) to be replaced with a trio of new heroes, none of whom make any real impact. Is it just me who feels cheated that all the characters the first film tried to build up just get wiped out like so many wasps when a pest controller comes calling?

Was it really necessary to totally dump the previous film? It wasn’t that bad. And if they were going to do that, could they not have come up with a fresher reboot than this? Who on earth thought the way to make the series fresher was to introduce Bruce Willis (at his most breezily, contemptuously disengaged) as a new hero? The film barely has time to introduce its new heroes: Lady Jaye has Daddy issues and is looking for approval (her Daddy, by the way, sounds like a sexist asshole with his “women shouldn’t serve in the military” attitudes and I was waiting for another character to point this out – they don’t of course), while Flint barely has a character beyond being a cheeky-chappie. When even Dwayne Johnson can barely be bothered to bring his C-game to a role, you know you’re in trouble: this film turns the most engaging action star of our age into a dull rent-a-muscle.

Then the plot. Yawn. Oh dear God yawn. Is there a plot? Not really. Events happen. They keep happening. Occasionally characters (like the “Blind Master”) pop up to essentially blurt out a load of plot, in between rushed character introductions. Turgid fight scenes are given extended screentime – but since they usually involve people we don’t really know fighting people we’ve barely been introduced to, it’s pretty hard to get engaged in them. Nothing really links together or carries any meaning. In fact, the film is about so little – and what plot there is, so clumsily and irritatingly spoonfed to the audience while our heroes take a frustratingly long time to catch-up – that you’ll be surprised the run time is as long as it is. I’ve already forgotten most of it and I watched it two days ago.

I say watched it, because I’m not sure “letting it pass before my eyes” on a Saturday morning over breakfast really counts. Certainly the final battle scenes – involving the storming of a bunker, something blowing up in space, world leaders in peril, and embarrassingly trite “personal rivalry” stories coming to a head – are so unimaginatively filmed, so dully predictable in their execution, that I fast forwarded through them. I just wanted the fucking thing to end. In fact I bemoaned the failure of Cobra to knock off all the Joes to start with. Not that the villains are much better themselves.

Pity poor Channing Tatum. Actually on reflection don’t: he’s well out of it. Tatum and Johnson’s double bill is the most likeable thing in the movie, the only thing that feels remotely real. Tatum was called back for reshoots (as he became more famous in between finishing filming and the planned release date, after the success of Magic Mike) and it’s a neat reminder of what an engaging, off-the-cuff performer he can be: when he kicks the bucket, the film’s most likeable, interesting character goes with it. The other actors just seem interested in picking up a cheque.

GI Joe: Retaliation isn’t a reboot. It’s an execution. It’s not even an execution you can get worked up about. In fact, I would have happily knocked off some of its characters myself. Did we create the language of cinema to come up with something as stodgy and insipid as this? Where is the magic and inspiration, where is the fun? What looking glass did we fall through, that anyone thought this pile of crapparoo was the way to restart a franchise?

Moana (2016)

Maui and Moana conquer the seas in this wonderfully fun Disney yarn

Director: Ron Clements, John Musker

Cast: Auli’i Cravalho (Moana), Dwayne Johnson (Maui), Rachel House (Tala), Temuera Morrison (Tui), Jermaine Clement (Tamatoa), Nichole Scherzinger (Sina), Alan Tudyk (Hei-Hei)

Once upon a time, the demi-God Maui (Dwayne Johnson) stole the heart of the island goddess Te Fiti, in order to give it to humanity. But he was attacked by the lava demon Te Kā and lost the heart and his magical fishhook. A thousand years later, Moana (Auli’I Cravalho), the daughter of the chief of her small island, grows to be a teenager who dreams of exploring beyond the reef. When her island’s crops start to fail, the Ocean chooses her to leave the island to find Maui and restore Te Fiti’s heart, in order to restore health to the world.

Moana is a charming, engaging and witty Disney movie, with strong, well-drawn characters, that immerses itself in its Polynesian mythology setting. What works about it – and what always puts Disney above its competitors – is that the film is interested in telling a story about characters who have real concerns and depth. Compare it to other, more stunted, “joke”-focused animations, produced by companies like Dreamworks, to see how far above those films it is. There are very few jokes here that will date (perhaps one about tweeting) – instead it’s a film that recognises its content for the adults doesn’t need to be sly film references or cheeky gags: a strong plot and engaging characters will entertain all generations.

One of the reasons the movie works so well is because Moana herself is a sympathetic, engaging heroine with dreams and aspirations, but who is still deeply respectful of her background. She’s not a rebellious teen, but someone who wants to improve the world around her, and is beautifully voiced by Cravalho. As such, she’s not only a great role model (take note parents!), but someone you end up totally rooting for. It also helps that she has a wonderful chemistry with Maui (very well voiced by a charmingly sparkling Johnson) – the film quietly subverts the expected Mentor/Pupil relationship between the two, as each teaches the other lessons both practical and spiritual.

Moana learns many of the lessons Disney picked up from Frozen. Like that film, it follows a free-spirited, independent-minded young woman not defined by a romantic interest. Its focus is on the lead overcoming a task to save her world. And it is built around an extremely catchy, very good song. How Far I’ll Go, Moana’s signature song (refrains of which are built into many of the other songs), is a sensational, powerful and tear-prickling power ballad about being yourself and following your own heart. It is remarkably easy to sing along with and carries a great message. It’s also got a brilliant popular appeal – I was stunned to see the YouTube video of it has over 141 millionhits (would that this site had so many). Many of the other songs are similarly excellent, especially the extremely hummable You’re Welcome (the songs are brilliantly composed by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Opetaia Foa’I and Mark Mancina).

Its visuals are outstanding, the animation terrific. I also really liked the way Clements and Musker embraced the strengths of silent characters, and the expressiveness animation can bring to characters. The Ocean, a clear character here who influences events, is nothing more than a shaped concentrated wave with no features, but has an expressiveness that makes it one of the wittiest characters in the film (memories of the carpet from Aladdin spring to mind). Similarly, the silent, dim-witted chicken Hei-Hei supplies many of the film’s laugh-out-loud moments. Maui’s body tattoos (wonderfully illustrated), moving and communicating silently with Maui throughout the movie, are terrifically innovative and feel unique.

Moana has a looseness and coolness to it that makes it an enjoyable, perfect viewing for a Saturday night. The storytelling is brilliantly done and the final confrontations are shot with a daring vibrancy that betters many action films. Clements and Musker have a mastery of the material that creates a gripping and involving story and characters. In many ways, it doesn’t do anything too unique or different from past Disney movies, but it tells the story with such charm and imagination that you’ll get totally wrapped up in it.