The Fighter, a movie review
The Fighter
I am flighty in my affections and fascinations, and relatively few of them remain unchanged and constant for more than one year. My bouts of interest in several actors and their whole filmography have come and gone, rarely - if ever - to return. Still, Christian Bale’s place in my fangirling heart remains sacred and as soon as any new movie he stars in is available, I pounce on it. ;-)
Last week we got our hands on The Fighter, a picture that eventually gave Bale his long deserved Oscar. To be honest, I don’t care much for the biopics; moreover, while I’m all for sports, boxing seems to leave me indifferent and slightly bored. Well, why then should I care about a life story of a small-town boxer, who despite his family’s well-intentioned help and love, reached fame and recognition?
There are two reasons why. One is an unbelievably gritty and realistic portrait of a small-town family. Their bleached hairdos, their garments, their interactions, their mannerisms… all this is equally repulsive and fascinating. The harridan mommy of nine adult children truly deserves her supporting role Oscar, and while she provides some humour relief, one can’t deny how toxic her absolute reign is.
Another reason is Bale himself, practically unrecognizable in gaudy tracksuit, with shaved off (hopefully!) fake receding hairline, bad teeth and ruined face. A veritable roadkill, that one: you feel repulsed yet you can’t look away. His nervous attitude of a crack addict (literally) who can’t stay still made me dizzy. His Dicky is obnoxious, abhorrent and strangely endearing in his love for his equally unpleasant family and in reliving his past peak of glory.
In contrast, all the other aspects of the movie are perfectly mediocre; the camera work chaotic, the plot quite predictable and the emotional overturns so cliché that at least one scene made me snort. A hero running along the wall, determination in his gaze, bathed in dramatic light of sunset? Come on, it’s so heroic that it’s funny.
I wouldn’t go so far as to call The Fighter a bad movie, on the contrary: it’s a must-see for boxing fans and an interesting choice for those who don’t flinch away from “real life” stories.
Being none of those mentioned above I watched it solely for Bale, and as usual he did deliver. :-) Now let me return to my anxious waiting for the third Batman. ;-)
I am flighty in my affections and fascinations, and relatively few of them remain unchanged and constant for more than one year. My bouts of interest in several actors and their whole filmography have come and gone, rarely - if ever - to return. Still, Christian Bale’s place in my fangirling heart remains sacred and as soon as any new movie he stars in is available, I pounce on it. ;-)
Last week we got our hands on The Fighter, a picture that eventually gave Bale his long deserved Oscar. To be honest, I don’t care much for the biopics; moreover, while I’m all for sports, boxing seems to leave me indifferent and slightly bored. Well, why then should I care about a life story of a small-town boxer, who despite his family’s well-intentioned help and love, reached fame and recognition?
There are two reasons why. One is an unbelievably gritty and realistic portrait of a small-town family. Their bleached hairdos, their garments, their interactions, their mannerisms… all this is equally repulsive and fascinating. The harridan mommy of nine adult children truly deserves her supporting role Oscar, and while she provides some humour relief, one can’t deny how toxic her absolute reign is.
Another reason is Bale himself, practically unrecognizable in gaudy tracksuit, with shaved off (hopefully!) fake receding hairline, bad teeth and ruined face. A veritable roadkill, that one: you feel repulsed yet you can’t look away. His nervous attitude of a crack addict (literally) who can’t stay still made me dizzy. His Dicky is obnoxious, abhorrent and strangely endearing in his love for his equally unpleasant family and in reliving his past peak of glory.
In contrast, all the other aspects of the movie are perfectly mediocre; the camera work chaotic, the plot quite predictable and the emotional overturns so cliché that at least one scene made me snort. A hero running along the wall, determination in his gaze, bathed in dramatic light of sunset? Come on, it’s so heroic that it’s funny.
I wouldn’t go so far as to call The Fighter a bad movie, on the contrary: it’s a must-see for boxing fans and an interesting choice for those who don’t flinch away from “real life” stories.
Being none of those mentioned above I watched it solely for Bale, and as usual he did deliver. :-) Now let me return to my anxious waiting for the third Batman. ;-)