Directed by David O. Russell
Screenplay by Scott Silver and Paul Tamasy & Eric Johnson
Story by Paul Tamasy & Eric Johnson & Keith Dorrington

Cast
Mark Wahlberg as Mickey Ward
Christian Bale as Dicky Eklund
Amy Adams as Charlene Fleming
Melissa Leo as Alice Ward
Mickey O'Keefe as Himself

Rated R for language throughout, drug content, some violence and sexuality

The great mass of men, it was famously written, live lives of quiet desperation.  What is less acceptable to admit in polite company is that a major reason for it is that so many of the relationships in most of our lives are toxic and force us to choose every day between doing what would be best for us and remaining loyal to ties of love and family we are relentlessly drilled to honor.  The Fighter is the true story of boxer “Irish” Mickey Ward and has many of the same elements of any conventional sports film.  But at its heart, it's about one man's struggle with the ties that bind him and a truly unflinching look at both the strengths and weaknesses that come from being surrounded by loved ones who think they're supporting us.  Because this is not the story of him telling them all to go to hell and then living happily ever after, it requires deft performances, and instead gets extraordinary ones.  Under David O. Russell's direction, the fights themselves aren't all one might hope for, but the work of Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams and Melissa Leo is a Master's Class, making this perhaps the best-acted film of 2010.

Boxer Mickey Ward (Mark Wahlberg) lives in the shadow of his brother/trainer Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale).  Years before, Dickey faced “Sugar” Ray Leonard, actually knocking him down (or did he merely slip?) at one point before losing the fight.  An HBO camera crew follows him around and Dickey assures them that his comeback is right around the corner.  But the truth is that Dickey is a crack addict and his lack of focus and the overbearing mismanagement of his mother Alice (Melissa Leo) holds Mickey back.  He's certain that a coming fight will turn things around, but a last-minute substitution gives him the choice to either face a bigger fighter he's got no shot against or not get paid.  He knows he shouldn't fight, but Dickey and Alice give him no real choice and so he takes a pounding.  Because of that beating, he's afraid to face the neighborhood, including Charlene Fleming (Amy Adams), a bartender he'd asked out.  She shows up on his doorstep demanding an answer as to why he stood her up, and a relationship forms between them.  Along with trainer Mickey O'Keefe (playing himself), there's finally a voice in Mickey's ear that's telling him that he should be thinking of himself at least as much as his mother, brother and seven shrewish sisters.  But Mickey's hand is broken in a scuffle with cops arresting Dickey and while his brother sits in prison, he's got choices to make.  If he's ever going to have a real shot at success, things are going to have to change.

The Fighter follows a true story just over a decade-old, and while it omits some details of Mickey Ward's boxing career, the ones we see seem to stick to the historical record.  But while his dream of proving himself and winning a title provide the clothesline upon which the story is hung, the movie's real concern is the toxic family dynamics that acted like anvils tied to his ankles as he tried to climb the ladder of success.  We often wonder why athletes are still surrounded by clearly shady friends and family from their childhood once they hit the big time, and The Fighter does its best to explain that to us.  The Wards may be the most toxic family I've ever seen in a movie, particularly if you discount the odious Fitzgerald clan from Million Dollar Baby that isn't exactly fleshed out.  The movies are full of hateful families who reject our heroes, but what makes the Wards so horrid is that they won't let Mickey draw a single breath that doesn't aggrandize either Alice or Dickey as his brilliant manager and trainer, respectively.  And while some will be frustrated that he never can quite shake Alice in particular, as she brings nothing to the party and never seems particularly apologetic, that's life.  Many viewers may be thankful that their family isn't quite this bad, but most of us will recognize at least some of the tug family places on us to humor others' delusions at the expense of our own self-interest. 

Because some of the supporting work is so flashily brilliant, it's easy to overlook how important Wahlberg's sensational lead performance is to the enterprise.  Mickey just wants everyone to get along and leave him alone, and the way his head hangs in shame and embarrassment when he should be strong, the way he can always find a higher octave for his voice when he's at his lowest point, THAT'S why we squirm at sights like his mother and sisters showing up at his girlfriend's doorstep while the two of them are sharing an intimate moment.  Self-respect comes hard for a man who's always been a doormat, and he never “throws the switch” to be a stronger guy, instead selling us how Mickey feels as though he has no choice but to act.  I really felt the emotional truth of his work in a position a butt-kicking leading man would rarely allow himself to be placed.

The rest of the cast will get more headlines (and, thus far, more awards), and they too are much-deserved.  Bale is astonishing, all the more so when we see footage of the real Mickey and Dickey over the end credits.  He's nailed that ingratiating goofiness that makes people tolerate addicts far longer than they should without ever being truly ingratiating to the audience.  And we can really see his wild-eyed addict's stare focus into that of a sober man without losing the essential loopiness of the character.  Leo is a force of nature, albeit one like a tsunami or earthquake that you would prefer never to experience.  Like all those delusional Jerry Springer guests who can go on and on defending their most pitiful deeds, Alice is always making excuses for herself, always indignant and always ready to spring into deplorable action.  Jack McGee is great as her husband George, the only person in the Ward household who doesn't worship the Cult of Alice & Dickey.  The seven actresses (Melissa McMeekin, Bianca Hunter, Erica McDermott, Jill Quigg, Dendrie Taylor, Kate B. O'Brien & Jenna Lamia) who play Mickey's wicked sisters vanish sensationally into that tabloid world.  One can easily imagine them taking their trashy Greek Chorus to the Springer stage.

For all the great work she's done over the last few years, Adams still finds a way to be a revelation here as a woman who's very much from Mickey's side of the tracks, just with a better sense of decency.  It's fun to watch Charlene try to befriend the Ward clan for almost fifteen seconds before her face twists in disgust.  We're accustomed to some manner of Adrienne the Librarian in this role, a woman above the boxer's social station, so it's interesting and intriguing to see that the girl for Mickey isn't someone ostensibly “better” than him, but a woman who's not afraid to pull hair, just unwilling to pull it first.  O'Keefe is clearly not a professional actor, but that doesn't stop him from bringing real intensity and emotion to his role.

Perhaps because of reports of his explosive behavior, perhaps simply because he's a guy who takes long breaks between projects, David O. Russell had directed only one film (and I Heart Huckabees would be completely forgotten now if not for the famous leaked footage of Russell and Lily Tomlin coming close to blows on the set) since his 1999 breakthrough Three Kings.  But, like Kings, which helped to elevate George Clooney into the top rank of actors and legitimized Wahlberg's acting career, The Fighter shows that he can find a extra level on the amps of even top actors.  He doesn't have quite so much luck with the fights which, after a memorably bruising loss that opens the film, suffer from his decision to adopt a passive, outside-the-ring point of view and are unexciting and hard to follow.  It's not a deal-breaker, because this is a film about the fighter and not the fights, but it's hard to think of another boxing movie where the boxing was of such a low quality.

Boxing is, of course, the most cinematic of sports, involving one-on-one physical action, no uniforms, and being built around an always-potent metaphorical man backed into a corner who comes out swinging.  The Fighter is about such a man, a movie astonishing not only in its emotional honesty, but also because about a group of real people who're still alive.  The mere fact that no Ward has sued the filmmakers is a marvel, but then they do say that truth is the ultimate defense against libel.  Perhaps it's best to leave it at that.