There's always one. One film Barbera won't shut up about, one performance he swears knocked him sideways, one director he insists is doing real work while the rest of the industry drowns in spandex and empty calories.
This year, that film is The Smashing Machine. This year, that director is Benny Safdie. And this year—like most years—Barbera might be wrong.
Don't misunderstand me: I want to be wrong about that.
Let's take the lay of the land. The 82nd Venice Film Festival is now officially mapped out, and with it comes the usual mix of anticipation, speculation, and the now-customary side-eye at how many Netflix logos the Lido can stomach before someone calls it a tech conference. Barbera, to his credit, says three's the magic number. Edward Berger's The Ballad of a Small Player was number four—and didn't make the cut. Another Netflix casualty, politely snubbed in the name of “balance.”
Translation: there's always a hierarchy. And Berger, despite the buzz from Conclave, wasn't on the top shelf this year. If it stings, well, that's show business. Or, in this case, festival politics.
Then there's Paul Thomas Anderson, who apparently ghosted Barbera altogether. One Battle After Another—Anderson's first since Licorice Pizza—was never even properly courted, thanks to Warner Bros. not picking up the phone. Studio silence, or strategic holdout? Hard to say. Either way, PTA's absence creates space. Into that space steps a slab of broken cartilage and steroid-riddled grit: The Smashing Machine.
And Barbera loves it.
In both his Variety and Deadline interviews, he practically evangelizes the thing. Calls it a character drama. Praises Emily Blunt. Raves about Dwayne Johnson. (Yes, that Dwayne Johnson—though you wouldn't know it from the man Barbera describes. No raised eyebrow. No irony.)
He tells Variety:
“At the start of the year I went to New York to meet Benny Safdie, who showed me some scenes from the film shot in Tokyo on his cell… I discovered that this is a really great movie about two great characters… destined to make its mark.”
It's the kind of early praise that feels oddly personal. Like he wants it to be a masterpiece. Like he's already imagining the Oscar campaign posters.
To be fair, the premise isn't nothing: a deep dive into the life of Mark Kerr, the bruised MMA legend whose career peaked before the sport found polish or profit. That era—the early 2000s, all VHS sweat and loosely regulated violence—is a rich one. Add in Safdie's twitchy eye for chaos and character, and you've got something more than the usual inspirational sports biopic. Maybe even something raw.
But here's the catch: we've heard this pitch before. Many times. From Barbera especially.
Remember Joker: Folie à Deux? In 2024, he called it “one of the most daring, brave, and creative films in recent American cinema.” It left Venice with more shrugs than standing ovations. The year before that, he championed a film I won't bother naming—because no one talks about it anymore. Including him.
The man's a tastemaker, sure. But his taste? Let's say it fluctuates.
And still… something about this one feels different. Maybe it's the oddity of seeing Dwayne Johnson shed the studio sheen and actually act. Maybe it's Emily Blunt, whose range is often wasted on over-budgeted genre fare. Or maybe it's the Safdie factor. When Benny's locked in—when he's chasing characters rather than chaos—you get Good Time. When he isn't? You get a headache.
So far, the trailer for The Smashing Machine looks like a respectable bait-and-switch: sold as a rugged sports story, hiding a stranger, more broken-hearted film underneath. Test reactions whisper about tonal left-turns. Mood swings. Grit that isn't just aesthetic, but emotional. If that's true, then maybe—maybe—Barbera's onto something.
And if not? Well, we've been here before. We know how this ends.
Venice, for all its elegance and gravitas, has become an annual gamble. Some years, it gives us The Power of the Dog. Other years, it gifts us… whatever Don't Worry Darling was trying to be.
But the stakes are clear. Venice kicks off awards season. It signals where the chips are falling. And right now, Barbera's biggest stack is on a film about a man who broke his body for glory—and lost himself somewhere in the middle.
If Safdie pulls it off, he'll have resurrected something bigger than Mark Kerr's legacy. He'll have proven that serious, soul-rattling cinema can still wear bruises—and not just designer trauma in prestige packaging.
If not? At least it'll be interesting.
Premiere Date:
The Smashing Machine will debut at the 82nd Venice Film Festival, which runs August 28 – September 7, 2025.
