David O. Russell’s latest film, “The Fighter,” a biopic of boxer Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg), packs a powerful punch, but not from its main star. Instead, it is the other characters orbiting Micky, alternately trying to steal his shine and make his star rise, who give new life to what would otherwise be just another tale of athletic adversity followed by triumph. The forces threatening to make or break Ward’s career include his manipulative mom-ager, his drug-addicted half-brother and his jaded, bartender girlfriend.

While early moments of the film build up both Ward and his brother, Dicky (Christian Bale), as local heroes in their native Lowell, Mass., in the 1990s, the differences between the two, not just as boxers but also as individuals, quickly becomes clear. Dicky, once a decent boxer himself, has been reduced to an emaciated druggie, taking it upon himself to train his younger brother, whose potential is oftentimes jeopardized by his own family’s antics.

As Dicky’s crack addiction thwarts Micky’s progress by causing the former to miss valuable training time, their mother Alice (Melissa Leo), who also serves as manager, has the unfortunate tendency to place the value of her son’s paychecks ahead of his well-being. (Micky is clearly the family breadwinner, supporting not just his parents but also his many sisters). Not until he meets Charlene (Amy Adams) does Micky realize that he can fight for himself and should have been doing so all along. As a former high school track star who later squandered her talent by partying too hard in college, Charlene recognizes herself in Ward, saving him from making similar mistakes and finally freeing him from his family’s toxic influence.

It is a never-ending source of irony that despite being based on true stories, biopics (and particularly those focused on athletes) are all remarkably similar. To this end, “The Fighter” follows the typical narrative trajectory in which a promising underdog (Ward) suffers an initial setback (injury), takes a hiatus, experiences a life-changing revelation (Charlene), resumes training with a new team of people (sans mom and brother) and makes a comeback. But despite the film’s predictability, the strong performances by the supporting cast make it an enjoyable ride. Leo, a near-contemporary of the two actors who play her sons, is thoroughly convincing as the overbearing parent-manager. Adams finally tears down the façade of doe-eyed innocence that made her famous in previous films like “Enchanted” and “Doubt,” and reveals her grittier side.

The real star of the film, though, is Bale. Known for taking the physicality of his roles to extremes (e.g. “The Machinist,” for which he famously lost 60 pounds), Bale is virtually unrecognizable in “The Fighter.” However, the skeletal appearance is only the beginning of Bale’s transformation into Dicky Eklund; his eyes are windows into an empty existence that he attempts to cover up by acting like an affable, if not volatile, goof. This is not to call Wahlberg’s performance poor by any means, but rather that Micky, characterized as a perpetual people-pleaser, seems washed out by the strength of those around him.

Overall Russell’s film deserves all of the Oscar buzz and nominations it has racked up so far, if not for innovation, simply for incredible acting. Thanks to tabloid culture, it is a rare treat these days to walk into a theater, sit back and appreciate the characters on screen rather than the celebrities who portray them. “The Fighter,” with its heavyweight cast, delivers on performance and immortalizes a man who otherwise, outside of Lowell, would remain in obscurity.