When people consider their favorite sports movies, they think of the football flicks, like Remember the Titans, or the basketball blockbusters, like Hoosiers, or even the occasional hockey film, like The Mighty Ducks. These sports deliver the goods, but one sport truly encapsulates all cinematic drama. In 1976, when Rocky Balboa took down Apollo Creed, the boxing ring became the home of the underdog. Since Rocky‘s release, films likeRaging Bull, Million Dollar Baby, and Cinderella Man have glorified the working man’s sport, and David O. Russell helms the newest entry in the line-up with The Fighter.
Set in 1993, The Fighter tells the true story of “Irish” Mickey Ward (Mark Wahlberg), a poor man from Lowell, Mass., as he struggles to make a career as a middleweight prize fighter. His brother and trainer, Dicky (Christian Bale), deals with a crack addiction while his mother Alice (Melissa Leo) takes complete control of Mickey’s career, often making the best choices for her rather than for him. Once he meets hardened barmaid Charlene (Amy Adams), though, he is inspired to take control of his career and begins his ascent into boxing history.
The film’s best moments take place in the ring as the audience rides Mickey’s momentum and fully invests in his success. Russell makes a wise directorial move by shooting the match as it would have been broadcast on television. The comments made by boxing experts, the muted sound of the crowd, and the swift shots of Mickey’s family in the audience yelling in support of their champion, all culminate into the production of a triumphant narrative. Viewers of the broadcast see only a hint of the man known as “Irish,” but the audience knows his whole story and cheers along.
Surprisingly enough, however, the boxing scenes are few in number. Most of the film focuses on Mickey’s life in Lowell, sequences that suffer from mediocre writing and characterization. The screenplay by Scott Silver, Paul Tamasay, and Eric Johnson lacks strong focus for the first two-thirds of the film. In essence, it is a sweeping expository act that continually emphasizes Mickey’s role as a saint among a family of sinners. Russell makes an effort to keep the pace up, but the hackneyed cliches in the writing, particularly Alice’s Greek chorus of pushy, Massachusetts-born daughters, leave great portions of the film feeling overly familiar.
The other major flaw is that Russell also does not bring enough depth to Mickey himself. Wahlberg has never been a particularly strong screen presence, and his costars blow him away in this project. The most Wahlberg brings to the role is likability, but beyond that, we somehow know little of Mickey. While Wahlberg could have brought more facets to his character, Russell rarely allows for the quiet moments in which the audience can sympathize with the protagonist. Rooting for Mickey is simply a way to root for the other characters who leave a stronger impression.
Adams’ Charlene is someone to root for. Her performance is the heart of the film. She takes a stock girlfriend character and adds great complexity, especially in a story full of simple characters. While she has a rough exterior, Adams brings vulnerability and a refreshing practicality to Charlene and finally plays against her usual doe-eyed type. Leo delivers a strong performance, despite her broad character. Alice is not a woman to mess with, and Leo expresses that with a cold glare alone. The highlight of the film in every aspect is Bale in the plum role of Dicky. Vibrant and dangerous, Dicky is an easy role to turn into a caricature, but Bale is deliberate in his acting choices. From his manic eyes to his steady and slurred speech, Bale embodies the desperation of a drug addict but still brings the warmth of a loving older brother. It’s not so much a performance as it is a rather frightening transformation.
Despite the uneven aspects of the film, it’s a crowd pleaser. It may not KO in the first round, but it takes the title after a few more.