David O. Russell on the Comeback Trail with The Fighter
by Michael Joshua Rowin
The Fighter
Directed by David O. Russell
Two years after Darren Aronofsky reemerged from the depths of pretension with The Wrestler, David O. Russell returns from more than half a decade of troubled productions and leaked on-set tirades with The Fighter (executive produced and originally planned for Aronofsky), a working class pugilist tale based on welterweight hero "Irish" Micky Ward and half-brother Dickie Eklund. Unburdened by its obvious predecessor's maudlin self-pity, The Fighter at first glance appears a step up. Russell disappointingly mothballs his caustic, neurotic humor for an unfamiliar restraint and earnestness, but compensates by generating a triad of fine performances: a subdued Mark Wahlberg as the diffident Ward, a hairsprayed Melissa Leo as his tough yet deluded manager/mother, and a wild-eyed and emaciated Christian Bale—for once serious without being dull—as Eklund, Ward's wise but self-destructive trainer who descends into crack addiction while boasting of past glory as a "Sugar" Ray Leonard rival and the pride of Lowell, Mass. (onscreen as itself).
Still, there are too many false notes here: a contrived stab at artless poignancy as Dickie sings "I Started a Joke" to comfort mom after another crack binge; the woefully repeated comic relief of Ward's undifferentiated gaggle of thick-accented sisters; a surfeit of uninspired classic rock-scored fight and training montages. Likely believing the Hibernian setting and Ward's divided allegiance between dysfunctional family and promising career would automatically deliver a no-nonsense underdog drama, three mediocre screenwriters reshape messier lives—especially Eklund's—to fit into a pat redemption arc that blanches out deeper shades of triumph and pain.
Opens December 10
