Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo
‘Irish’ Mickey Ward (Wahlberg) was considered a thuggish brawler, and mocked as a ‘stepping stone’ fighter brought in to elevate the careers of his opponents. His older half-brother Dick Ecklund (Bale) glimpsed success when he “knocked down” Sugar Ray Leonard in 1978; but Leonard actually tripped, and still went on to win the fight by unanimous decision. Both brothers – and their mother/manager Alice (Leo) – have been choked by the pathos of that moment ever since. Dick’s career declined, and by the late 80s he was happily juggling a crack addiction with his duties as Mickey’s coach (while also harbouring loud desires for an imminent comeback). Alice was as buried in hopeless denial as her most beloved eldest son; and in the midst of all this destructive, insular melancholy, it is easy to see how Mickey’s career was circling the drain.
But then something changed… and by the time Ward finally retired in 2003 he had won a WBU welterweight title and had been awarded ‘Fight of the Year’ on three separate occasions by Ring magazine. This stunning turnaround – and the hurdles over which Ward had to jump to tackle his family and all the other social issues that had kept him in the gutter for so long – is the central focus of David O. Russell’s wonderfully entertaining film.
Russell is rarely mentioned in the same breath as the other American indie ‘auteurs’ of his loosely defined generation. But his breakthrough success – the bizarre and loveable ‘Spanking the Monkey’, which followed a teenage boy on the cusp of manhood dealing with his Oedipal mother – proved his ability to portray fragile and awkward familial relationships in a surreal and unique fashion on film. Having dealt with everything from the Gulf War to Sartre since, The Fighter provides an opportunity to return to the realm of the domestic, albeit on a much larger scale.
Much of this story may seem twee and self-aggrandising (the break-ups and make-ups, etc); but even if the story doesn’t quite stand up to factual interrogation, there is something soothing and enjoyable about hearing the story the way Dick and Mickey would tell it. The film is bookended by interviews with the brothers (the opening shows Bale and Wahlberg in character, the final credits show real footage of Dick and Mickey) and there is a sense that we are hearing the story from their slightly deluded but wonderfully colloquial and punchdrunk perspective.
It would be remiss of me to review a boxing movie without assessing the all important fight scenes. Russell opts for a hyper-realistic portrayal of the fights, with over-exposed, grainy TV footage and re-recordings of the actual commentary and graphics from the HBO footage of the fights. The close up blows, as is always the case in films, seem more explosive and intense than real boxing; but Ward’s famous fights really were as explosive as they look in the movies. At one point during the Shea Neary title fight, commentator Jim Lampley quipped, “this is like movie fighting” (although including that particular line in the film would have been one knowing, self-referential step too far, even for the director of I Heart Huckabees!)
Russell seems to stumble during the climactic Shea Neary fight, however; as his sharp vision falters, he slips every ‘boxing movie’ cliché into the fight. There are slow-motion swings, cut-aways to worried girlfriends, and even a hilarious ‘double duck’ as Ward dodges two punches in a style more akin to Adam West than a professional boxer. But that is all part of the charm of watching a story the way we would have heard it if we sat in a bar with Dick and Mickey. It is fantasised and giddy, but truthful in a way that even the most realistic of films often fail to achieve.
Melissa Leo is excellent as the hopeless and broken Alice. As the story develops we realise that she started out as a proud mother with unshakeable self-belief; but when life deals you a few too many harsh hands, self-belief quickly turns to deluded and defensive bitterness. In a place like Lowell, confronting failure can be a dangerous thing, and it is an almost existential necessity to block it out and ruthlessly protect the myth of your own making. Bale’s performance is so good it almost collapses into mimicry, but his twisted and terrifyingly accurate ability to portray the quirks and simmering undertones of difficult characters ensures that his performances always transcend such claims. He is one of the few actors working in Hollywood today that elevates acting into the realm of art. His performances are windows into the souls of men.
‘Irish’ Mickey Ward (Wahlberg) was considered a thuggish brawler, and mocked as a ‘stepping stone’ fighter brought in to elevate the careers of his opponents. His older half-brother Dick Ecklund (Bale) glimpsed success when he “knocked down” Sugar Ray Leonard in 1978; but Leonard actually tripped, and still went on to win the fight by unanimous decision. Both brothers – and their mother/manager Alice (Leo) – have been choked by the pathos of that moment ever since. Dick’s career declined, and by the late 80s he was happily juggling a crack addiction with his duties as Mickey’s coach (while also harbouring loud desires for an imminent comeback). Alice was as buried in hopeless denial as her most beloved eldest son; and in the midst of all this destructive, insular melancholy, it is easy to see how Mickey’s career was circling the drain.
But then something changed… and by the time Ward finally retired in 2003 he had won a WBU welterweight title and had been awarded ‘Fight of the Year’ on three separate occasions by Ring magazine. This stunning turnaround – and the hurdles over which Ward had to jump to tackle his family and all the other social issues that had kept him in the gutter for so long – is the central focus of David O. Russell’s wonderfully entertaining film.
Russell is rarely mentioned in the same breath as the other American indie ‘auteurs’ of his loosely defined generation. But his breakthrough success – the bizarre and loveable ‘Spanking the Monkey’, which followed a teenage boy on the cusp of manhood dealing with his Oedipal mother – proved his ability to portray fragile and awkward familial relationships in a surreal and unique fashion on film. Having dealt with everything from the Gulf War to Sartre since, The Fighter provides an opportunity to return to the realm of the domestic, albeit on a much larger scale.
Much of this story may seem twee and self-aggrandising (the break-ups and make-ups, etc); but even if the story doesn’t quite stand up to factual interrogation, there is something soothing and enjoyable about hearing the story the way Dick and Mickey would tell it. The film is bookended by interviews with the brothers (the opening shows Bale and Wahlberg in character, the final credits show real footage of Dick and Mickey) and there is a sense that we are hearing the story from their slightly deluded but wonderfully colloquial and punchdrunk perspective.
It would be remiss of me to review a boxing movie without assessing the all important fight scenes. Russell opts for a hyper-realistic portrayal of the fights, with over-exposed, grainy TV footage and re-recordings of the actual commentary and graphics from the HBO footage of the fights. The close up blows, as is always the case in films, seem more explosive and intense than real boxing; but Ward’s famous fights really were as explosive as they look in the movies. At one point during the Shea Neary title fight, commentator Jim Lampley quipped, “this is like movie fighting” (although including that particular line in the film would have been one knowing, self-referential step too far, even for the director of I Heart Huckabees!)
Russell seems to stumble during the climactic Shea Neary fight, however; as his sharp vision falters, he slips every ‘boxing movie’ cliché into the fight. There are slow-motion swings, cut-aways to worried girlfriends, and even a hilarious ‘double duck’ as Ward dodges two punches in a style more akin to Adam West than a professional boxer. But that is all part of the charm of watching a story the way we would have heard it if we sat in a bar with Dick and Mickey. It is fantasised and giddy, but truthful in a way that even the most realistic of films often fail to achieve.
Melissa Leo is excellent as the hopeless and broken Alice. As the story develops we realise that she started out as a proud mother with unshakeable self-belief; but when life deals you a few too many harsh hands, self-belief quickly turns to deluded and defensive bitterness. In a place like Lowell, confronting failure can be a dangerous thing, and it is an almost existential necessity to block it out and ruthlessly protect the myth of your own making. Bale’s performance is so good it almost collapses into mimicry, but his twisted and terrifyingly accurate ability to portray the quirks and simmering undertones of difficult characters ensures that his performances always transcend such claims. He is one of the few actors working in Hollywood today that elevates acting into the realm of art. His performances are windows into the souls of men.
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