Film Reviews

The Fighter

• Rating:
• Director: David O. Russell
• Starring: Amy Adams
• Details: US/115mins 15A

Another Oscar contender rears its head in the month of January, this time a boxing flick that Mark Wahlberg has been trying to get made for over half a decade. Those that aren't already sick of gritty Boston set dramas will find plenty here to enjoy, least not a quartet of great performances from Wahlberg, Adams, Leo and (especially) Bale. Director 'O Russell does a fine job of making all of the characters feel organic to the inspiring true story, but drops the ball a little with the pre-staging of the final fight.
Wahlberg is local hero, Mickey Ward. Seen as a bit of a journeyman fighter, he's never really gotten his shot because of poor management from his mother (Leo), and often absent coaching from his - former boxing star - half-brother, Dickie (Bale). Mickey is constantly in the middle of an argument about how his career should be going and more often than not things seem to benefit Dickie. But when his brother goes to jail, and Ward begins dating the strong-willed Charlotte (Adams), he's inspired to get back into the ring. Dickie may be a junkie, but he also taught Mickey everything he knows about boxing, so he must decide whether or not he needs his brother in his corner for his final shot.
'O Russell has always been a good director of actors, creating an atmosphere for thriving creativity on his sets. He absolutely nails the family dynamic in The Fighter, where you don't for one second question that these people are related. The arguments, the making up, the physical confrontations, all of it is dealt with in an impressively unfussy, natural manner. The boxing matches themselves are staged using HBO cameras from the 90s for authenticity, as the director tries to make you feel like you're actually watching a pay per view event - that too works seamlessly within the film.
The build-up to the final fight with scouser Shea Neary, however is a geographic cluster-f**k. The supposedly Ward-hating crowd are wearing Irish t-shirts; Neary's accent veers between Scottish and Irish; while the press conference takes place in front a British flag. American's may not have noticed it, but audiences this side of the pond will find it disconcerting to an otherwise unspoiled production.
Walhberg is the eye of the storm through-out, always calm despite the carnage going on around him. He leaves the grandstanding for the most part to Bale, who pays Dickie with intrinsic charisma despite an obvious degenerative streak.
Ignoring the grating flaw towards the end, this is a powerfully built, heartfelt film that makes the potentially clichéd feel not just real, but wonderfully stirring.

Review by Mike Sheridan