The Fighter (2010, USA)

It didn’t take very long to pinpoint what bothered me about The Fighter. It’s David O. Russell’s first real foray out of black comedy – even Three Kings was funnier than it was dramatic, and its late-game stab at pathos always rang a little false – and the misanthropy he brings to the screen is out of sync with a film about a working-class loser made good. Russell does a fine, if somewhat rote, job with the central male figures and their relationship with one another, but with the women, particularly those of the Ward/Eklund clan, he displays his cruel streak, striking a sour note that deeply affects the film.

A blue-collar drama doesn’t work so well when pretty much all of its characters, with a couple of exceptions, like George and Micky Ward, are presented as either really nasty pieces of work (Alice Ward) or comic foils (all of the Ward/Eklund sisters). The sisters are not even characters, not really, as Russell never spares a chance to present them as nothing more than a gallery of dumb and dumber, prone to occasional violence. (He also strives to make them as unattractive as possible, since apparently only Amy Adams is allowed to play poor but good-looking.) I know virtually nothing about the real women these caricatures were based on, but I’m guessing on evidence of the film that the characters at least were brought up with little stability in their lives, and virtually no access to education or strong male/female role models.

But Russell’s real interest seems not to be a sympathetic portrayal of the bottom third of American society, but in the masculine relationships in the film. Micky’s relationship with Charlene is sped through with as much haste as possible so as to return to the meatier conflict of masculine forces. These forces include Melissa Leo’s Alice Ward, who cuts an incredibly masculine figure, her blonde bouffant and platform heels notwithstanding (her husband, George, is made into a feminine foil to his wife). But even Alice is brushed aside at the end of the film in order to focus on the Micky/Dicky pairing. Their triumph in the ring is also a triumph over feminine forces, literally relegated to the sidelines, and it is these forces that are most closely identified with the working-class origins of the hero. For the story of a triumphant underdog, The Fighter definitely seeks to separate its protagonist as much as possible from the environment that created him.