The Fighter
It’s hard to say anything bad about The Fighter, but I will try. It takes place in Boston, the least interesting of all major American cities, and it centers around a feel-good comeback story about a fraternal pair of down-and-out lovable losers. It follows the typical arc of most stories told, with your typical ups and downs. I feel like I’ve seen it a thousand times before, and yet, this is the first time in my life I’ve seen it with such clarity. It’s the singer, not the song. And I’ll admit, the song is good, too.
I suppose the song would be “Don’t Stop Believing,” the penultimate peak-of-the-night-in-a-bar crowd-pleasing anthem. Even the most pretentious of us can enjoy this song after a few drinks, surrounded by old friends. That’s this movie. (And while this particular song isn’t featured in the movie, the soundtrack and sound editing are amazing.) The singer in this case is director David O. Russell as much as it is the terrific cast, led by Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale.
David O. Russell is coming off his personal masterpiece, the amazingly quirky existential comedy I <3 Huckabees, released in 2004. (Since then, he’s been the star of the dramatically diva-like blow-up on that film’s set, and has suffered major set-backs with his next film, Nailed. I had begun worrying about him.) With this film, he proves his expert ability to direct someone else’s written work - he penned himself Huckabees, Three Kings, Flirting with Disaster and Nailed - and yet, his own idiosyncratic comedic style and careful insight sings throughout the dramatic tale of this Fighter. Perhaps it’s his terrific attention to detail.
The film is so tight, so pitch-perfect in its telling of this material. The story is really two stories: one of Mickey Ward (Wahlberg), and another of Dickie Eklund (Bale), but to tell one is to tell the other. It’s a tale that an enthusiastic onlooker could tell over dinner, but with less concise clarity. Russell infuses it with such nuance and layered emotion that to have it more simply put would render the whole thing mediocre. The lush textures of this film is what make it so heartily satisfying. The characters are so incessantly watchable, each main and supporting part performed so well.
I am prone to view these sort of triumphant films from a distance, as they are too saccharine for my taste otherwise, but the way this one is crafted and delivered makes me appreciate its thematic elements more than I ever have before: family ties, inspirational love, training and boxing, making something of oneself. The Fighter is the easiest movie to recommend, because it has such universal appeal, unlike most films I gravitate toward. The filmmaker’s stylization enhances it without an ostentatiousness that might overshadow the work. In a theater, the sights and sounds are that much more gratifying. Run, don’t walk!
