Maybe the most pleasant surprise about The Fighter, aside from the workable accents, is that for a “boxing” movie, there isn’t a hell of a lot of boxing. There’s been a glut of boxing movies over the last five, ten, thirty years. For a sport that’s only so popular, that’s a lot of movies, so for the good of the genre and the movie’s own box office a different tack needed to be taken, a new angle found, and to me that shift in focus was it. The story didn’t lean so heavily on the action because it didn’t need do. What happened in the ring, when it did happen, was the culmination of all the work and conflict that took place elsewhere.

The movie begins and ends (literally) with the relationship of the brothers Micky and Dickey (Mark Wahlberg and a skinny-again Christian Bale). Dickey achieved some success in the ring in the late 70s, 13-14 years before the movie is set. But he’s fallen on hard times since, having gotten very much into drugs. His story is colorful enough that HBO wants to make a documentary about it. The closeness of the brothers, capped off by Dickey’s being Micky’s trainer, makes them veritable co-stars, of the HBO production and of The Fighter itself. One could now ask that rhetorical chestnut, “Who’s ‘The Fighter’ in The Fighter?” I won’t, even though I just did.

I thank David O. Russell wholeheartedly for, despite the framing of the documentary within the movie, the scarcity of “talking heads.” Many years of The Office have diluted the format irreparably. Russell’s direction takes the opposite approach, by capturing many of the scenes relatively simply, in an unadorned style that highlights the modesty of this particular family, in this particular neighborhood. The cameras aren’t overly shaky for that “real” look. Funny scenes are allowed to be funny, and there are several of those, mostly Dickey’s garbage dives and the Greek chorus that is the surly, protective collection of the main characters’ sisters.

The performances are all solid. Mark Wahlberg is firmly in his element, and succeeds in making me not think of Andy Samberg talking as him, to a goat. Christian Bale had the physicality and athleticism needed for his role, plus his secret weapon, that odd look he gets whenever he loses a bunch of his normal weight: His eyes bigger, his bones showier. That part of the physicality communicates without his even acting. Amy Adams doesn’t have a whole lot of material to work with – she goes from bartender to serious girlfriend awfully quickly – but she has the charm, vulnerability and strength to pull it off. I’d say the best performance belongs to Melissa Leo, mother of both sons (by different fathers), current manager of Micky. Her fortitude shines through most brightly for me, her power and occasional indignance put forth by the most natural acting of the group.

Beyond all of these quantitative strengths, I liked the movie very much. I wasn’t familiar with Micky’s and Dickey’s stories, which helped, but was nonetheless moved by the motivations and mitigated successes of each, especially as they shifted through the story to its end. Oddly, it was this camaraderie that made the whole story seem a little safe. There are things at stake, qualities of lives certainly, but the large family and the girlfriend and the two dads and the town full of familiar faces, make me feel like their positions weren’t entirely terrible ones to be in. Sure, Dickey is addicted to crack, but what can you do?

My take is summed up in a paraphrase of something Amy Adams’ character says. She’s criticized for “only” being a bartender, but she responds that she likes her life. For this clan, life may not be glamorous, but it’s at least bearable, if not also likable. For many of these reasons, this story is quite different than that of, say, The Wrestler. But given the similarities of the stories, which few there are, when I think of my visceral reaction to the success and failure of the main character in The Wrestler, I can’t help but feel just a bit shortchanged by The Fighter. Overall, I was objectively impressed, subjectively, a little less so.

In brief: Much more acting than boxing, for whatever that’s worth. It’s all good.
3 stars/4 (B)