By Hemanth Kissoon
“I’m the one who’s fighting. Not you, not you, and not you.” Mickey Ward
Opening in Lowell, Massachusetts 1993, Christian Bale’s Dicky is being interviewed by a documentary crew, and describes himself as a “squirrelly” fighter. Straight away I’m engaged. Bale is a brilliant actor, up there with Daniel Day-Lewis, and he’s decided to school us in his craft. Dicky is all ticks and bullet-train speed delivery of lines. The performance is squirrelly. A documentary within a feature based on a true story - loving the meta-levels already. Without giving away too much, there is a further level; and it’s just not clever-clever either (though it so is!), there’s a reason for a movie within a movie during parts of the film. Anyway, back to Bale, this is only the tip of the iceberg – he lets loose in a surge of energy that is maintained throughout. This is just as concentrated as you expect from him, but he channels it differently; hyped-up rather than brooding.
The camera crew and the audience follow Dicky and his brother Mickey (Wahlberg) during the credits. Dicky is a celebrity, “The pride of Lowell”. (The theme of pride permeates proceedings.) Dicky knocked down Sugar Ray Leonard in a fight in 1978. These brothers are boxers. Dicky talks of his come-back. Wahlberg plays Mickey as a more gentle soul, obviously having grown up in the shadow of his sibling. Wahlberg’s performance is a counter-weight to Bale’s. He can be impressive in the right hands: Boogie Nights (director P.T. Anderson); The Departed (Martin Scorsese) and I Heart Huckabees (David O. Russell).
“I’m the one who’s fighting. Not you, not you, and not you.” Mickey Ward
Opening in Lowell, Massachusetts 1993, Christian Bale’s Dicky is being interviewed by a documentary crew, and describes himself as a “squirrelly” fighter. Straight away I’m engaged. Bale is a brilliant actor, up there with Daniel Day-Lewis, and he’s decided to school us in his craft. Dicky is all ticks and bullet-train speed delivery of lines. The performance is squirrelly. A documentary within a feature based on a true story - loving the meta-levels already. Without giving away too much, there is a further level; and it’s just not clever-clever either (though it so is!), there’s a reason for a movie within a movie during parts of the film. Anyway, back to Bale, this is only the tip of the iceberg – he lets loose in a surge of energy that is maintained throughout. This is just as concentrated as you expect from him, but he channels it differently; hyped-up rather than brooding.
The camera crew and the audience follow Dicky and his brother Mickey (Wahlberg) during the credits. Dicky is a celebrity, “The pride of Lowell”. (The theme of pride permeates proceedings.) Dicky knocked down Sugar Ray Leonard in a fight in 1978. These brothers are boxers. Dicky talks of his come-back. Wahlberg plays Mickey as a more gentle soul, obviously having grown up in the shadow of his sibling. Wahlberg’s performance is a counter-weight to Bale’s. He can be impressive in the right hands: Boogie Nights (director P.T. Anderson); The Departed (Martin Scorsese) and I Heart Huckabees (David O. Russell).
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This is Wahlberg’s third film with Russell. Remember how interestingly shot Three Kings was; an entertaining and intelligent heist-war film. The Fighter is expertly made, and feels different to other movies. The director has eschewed: the overtly metaphorical-ness(!!) of Raging Bull, the sentimentality of Rocky, the weighty history of Ali, the melodrama of Million Dollar Baby, and the grittiness of Girlfight. This is his beast. It is intimate and intense, getting right in there with the fights, whether they be of the family yelling variety or in the ring. There is a handheld feel to it but without the self-conscious jittery camera-work. Is this the best directed film of the last year? Probably. The actual boxing is wince-inducing, even more than Rocky getting pummelled by Ivan Drago.
The Fighter is not just some testosterone-powered biopic. It‘s just as much about the women in Mickey’s life as it is about his fractious relationship with his brother. His mother, played with regal insidious bite by Melissa Leo, is a whirling dervish of defensiveness. Mickey’s sisters are like their mother’s pack, following her lead. They are hilarious and intimidating at the same time. She’s a great actress (Enchanted; Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day; Doubt), and here Amy Adams knocks one out of the park. Her Charlene is spiky, sassy intelligence, with her b.s. detector set to max. There are so many fantastic scenes. One of the early standouts is our introduction to Charlene. It’s in a bar where she works. It starts with Mickey and his step father (Jack McGee), then focus moves to Mickey-Charlene, Dicky steps in, and then back to Mickey-Charlene. The rat-a-rat nature is something like out of a 1930s screw-ball comedy. ‘His Girl Fight-Day’. Geddit? No. Ok, I’ll move on. The scene is not about boxing, more like the Olympics, a relay race where the baton is fluidly passed from hand to hand. Oh yeah, the dialogue is electrifying.
The picture is all about juxtaposition. The juxtaposition of two or more people. The juxtaposition of ambitions. The juxtaposition of imagery – there is superb editing where archive footage of Dicky fighting is contrasted with his own recreation in a crack den. We’re not just watching a by-the-numbers “based-on-a-true-story” movie; this is an articulate and intelligent dissection of loyalty, past-glory (think Wonder Boys) and family. The Fighter is a moving and charisma-soaked mix of Cassavetes, Hawks and Kazan baked together into something different.
The score above says it all right? I came out of The Fighter, and I wanted to go straightaway back in again to re-watch it.
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