From a purely technical standpoint, The Fighter was very well-made. Every single acting performance is phenomenal. The direction, sound design and cinematography are all solid. The fight scenes are engaging, immersive and thrilling to watch (they’re still not exactly Rocky or Raging Bull in terms of quality, but what is?). The problem here is that the character development is a hot mess from top to bottom.

Let’s start from the beginning: The Fighter is the true story of a boxer named Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg). He was trained by his older brother, Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale), who famously took on Sugar Ray Leonard (himself) and won. Micky’s manager is his mother, Alice Ward, played by Melissa Leo. Basically put, Micky’s family raised him to be a boxer and they all love him, so he feels an obligation to do well by them. Trouble is, his relatives are all fuckups. They mean well, to be sure, but they’re still a load of ignorant, self-righteous, hopeless fuckups who are too proud to know or admit that they need Micky more than he needs them. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this family is one trailer home away from officially being white trash.

Dicky is a crack addict who gets so high so constantly that he can’t give Micky the regular training he needs. As for Alice, she’s a domineering bitch who quickly proves to be an incompetent manager. Eventually, Dicky lands himself in jail yet again and Alice wants to stall Micky’s career until Dicky can come back. At this point, some friends from Micky’s community — including love interest Charlene, played by Amy Adams — band together to help get Micky’s career back on track, on the condition that Micky’s family gets shut out.

Now, I know what you’d be thinking if you paid attention to those last two paragraphs. You’d be asking what role Micky plays in all of this or what he wants. After all, any moviegoer with half a brain would want to know the motivations of our protagonist and what role he plays in the overall narrative. Too bad the movie doesn’t.

See, the thing about Rocky is that he wanted to be in the ring. He wanted to take his brief shot at fame and push it as far as he possibly could. As for Jake La Motta, he couldn’t not fight. That guy was constantly overflowing with so much destructive energy that he took it out on anyone and everyone else, just so he didn’t have to take it out on himself. These two boxers are cinematic icons because they were self-driven with clear ambitions for greatness. I didn’t see one iota of that in Micky Ward. Sure, he’s in the ring because that’s all he knows how to do, but I got the clear and distinct impression that if his family or his girlfriend ever really wanted Micky to quit and find a safer job, he would’ve done it.

The only time that Micky actively takes charge of the plot and independently decides what he’s going to do is when he’s in the ring. During the other 90 percent of the film, the only thing Micky ever does is decide who’s going to think and speak on his behalf. When we first meet Micky, he’s in front of a camera crew, totally unable to get a word in because Dicky is shooting his mouth off next to him. In the film’s very last shot, it’s more of the same: Dicky is talking at a million miles an hour and all Micky can do is smile. Our lead character became the world welterweight champion and his character hasn’t developed any more of a backbone. Augh.

No, pretty much all of this movie’s character development goes to Dicky Eklund. Dicky is the boxer who fell from grace. Dicky is the one who got a documentary made about him, unknowing that the documentary was actually about the dangers of crack addiction. In fact, the scene in which the documentary gets shown on HBO is easily the biggest turning point in the film. The characters all learn what shitbags they are, and our supposed protagonist didn’t have a thing to do with it. Hell, it’s the supporting character’s predicament that changes the main character’s attitude! Anyway, Dicky subsequently overcomes the drug addiction and works to make himself a better trainer for Micky.

But then comes the real slap in the face. Micky is inevitably forced to choose between bringing Dicky back as his trainer or keeping the team that brought him back on top. Micky is so indecisive about the matter that Charlene chooses for him and walks out. Inevitably, the two sides have to reconcile… but it isn’t Micky that does it. No, it’s Dicky who goes to Charlene and brings her back to Micky’s corner. Sure, Micky comes to try and bring her back, but only after Dicky has finished talking. That was it, folks. That was the crux of the entire movie, the resolution of all its main themes and conflicts, and our protagonist had absolutely no part in it. No, that honor went to the supporting character!

Christian Bale did some amazing work here. He had such a dynamic character and Bale wonderfully played him, from Dicky’s absolute worst to his total recovery and everything in between. The problem is that he took way too much of the spotlight and had a much greater effect on the plot than the guy who got top billing! As for Wahlberg, he’s also giving everything he’s got. The guy devoted himself to this part in mind, body and soul… but he’s got nothing to work with. What the hell was Wahlberg supposed to do with this indecisive character who let everyone else speak for him and push him around?

Amy Adams has a similar problem. She’s always been a beauty and an amazing actress, but she’s absolutely scorching here, with untold amounts of attitude and sex appeal to spare. The bad news is that Charlene has to be the most implausibly convenient and lazily written girlfriend I’ve seen in quite some time. To wit: During their first date, Micky takes her to some foreign film he knows nothing about and sleeps through it. On their way back to the car, he starts venting to her about his family issues and how his confidence is shaken after a fight he just lost. At that point, any girl with half a brain would have said “You’re not worth this shit, don’t call me again.” But Charlene goes in for the kiss. She does indeed dump him at a later point, until Dicky’s aforementioned crack documentary goes live, and she’s suddenly on Micky’s doorstep ready with a shoulder to cry on. Gag me.

The tertiary cast is simply godawful. Micky’s opponent for the climactic fight is a tremendously one-dimensional douchebag, transparently setting up Micky as the underdog hero. Micky also has seven sisters, all of whom are interchangeable, superficial, brainless and annoying harpies who do nothing except parrot whatever Alice says. But by far the worst background character is Micky’s ex-wife. I’m grateful she only got two scenes, because I kept hoping an anvil would fall on her head whenever she came onscreen. I don’t care what Micky ever did to her, it was no excuse for this character to be such a vindictive, spiteful, unreasonable and heartless bitch.

I wish I could like The Fighter. I really do. The fight scenes are wonderful, the visuals are solid and the actors are all at the top of their game. Alas, our supposed protagonist is so inert and the attempts at characterization are so mismanaged that I can’t possibly recommend it. Yet the film is getting a lot of awards buzz, particularly for Christian Bale. I wouldn’t dream of complaining about that, as his work is very good here. I wouldn’t even mind if Wahlberg, Adams, Leo and David O. Russell himself all got nominations. But for Best Writing? Best Picture? Get the fuck outta here.