'The Fighter,' My Favorite Film of 2010

When I saw the advertisement for "The Fighter" a few months ago, all I could think was that director David O. Russell ("Three Kings") was wasting his talent on a pretentious and sentimental boxing film for the all-important American dollar.

Instead, what we have here might be the most honest film of 2010. You're going to hear "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake more than once. You're going to see homely women that must make the elite Hollywood crowd wince. Hell, you're going to see and hear the two boxers and brothers this film is about, Mickey Ward and Dicky Eklund, right as the end credits roll. The hilarity and pain of real life are plastered all over this movie - unlike "Cinderella Man," which makes the Great Depression seem like a fight anyone could have won.

One of the simplest pleasures I've had in a theater is watching Christian Bale play a crack addict. Bale excels in roles in which he can't get outside of himself (e.g., "American Psycho" and "The Machinist"). In this respect, the pathetic energy of Bale's Eklund is natural. But reality catches up with him in the form of Melissa Leo, who plays Eklund's aggressive mother. Russell prevents Bale from chewing scenery by finally getting him to connect with other actors, something that only Steven Spielberg had achieved, and that was more than 20 years ago when Bale was a child in 1987's underrated "Empire of the Sun."

But really, this film has a fuckload of effective performances. I already mentioned Leo, whose acting in the film's domestic disputes brought to mind experiences from my own life (that's powerful shit, my friends). Amy Adams drops her innocence to play one of the strongest women I've seen on the screen in a while, and what's particularly inspiring is that Adams makes it clear that this strength comes from bad decisions her character must live with; there is no fake, inherently badass quality to speak of. The father, played by Jack McGee, is overpowered by the women and boxers around him, but one winds up empathizing with him as a steady figure rather than dismissing him as a pussy.

In the middle of these performances is subtle Mark Wahlberg. Yes, that's right, he's fucking subtle. He's the subtlest boxer I've watched in a film, and you need to see that. For example, after winning his first comeback match, Wahlberg isn't able to enjoy the moment because of the conflicting personalities around him, and you don't get that with a line or even a shrug, just his eyes.

At this point I could be a typical reviewer and point out that this film isn't about the fighting but the characters. But that would be bullshit. The fighting in any boxing movie is very important. Compare "Rocky" and "Raging Bull." Their stories and fights are different. Rocky has long, unrealistic fights to show us how much the underdog can overcome, and Raging Bull has short, nasty fights to accentuate the brutality of the protagonist and sport. "The Fighter" doesn't take either route. The women who parade the signs make the scene as alive as anything, as do the fools in the audience. The fights aren't spectacular or painful to watch; they simply involve people punching each other. This is the most down-to-earth boxing since "Diggstown."

I believe Russell has directed his greatest work, a decidedly humorous masterpiece of sports cinema, and it would be a shame if one avoided it because of the trailer's phony inspirational vibe. I almost did, and I would have missed my favorite film of 2010.