Okay, this one was my own fault. Had I done my research on this film (or had a fabulous website like flicksthatmakemesick to go to!), I would have realized that The Fighter was directed by David O. Russell. Or maybe I knew that but didn’t make the connection. Or maybe I made the connection but was blinded by the idea that Mark Wahlberg would be sweaty and shirtless for the majority of the film. Whatever my problem was, it wasn’t until fifteen minutes into the film that I grabbed my stomach and shouted “David O. Russell directed Three Kings!” But by then, of course, it was too late.

Here’s a little warning: if you have a problem with motion sickness in movies, don’t go see a film that involves the shooting of an HBO documentary (hand-held camera), boxing (quick cuts, choppy edits, weird angles as bodies hit the floor), ballooning bruises and spattered blood (eewwww) and a crack addict who was so jittery that he made everything look like it was shaking even when the camera was locked down. Continue reading “The Fighter” →