My first thought upon hearing about this year’s release of I, Tonya? “Nope.” As a lifelong figure skating fan, I am, quite frankly, sick of the Tonya Harding story. I’m sick of feeling like a sport that I love only exists once every four years, when “the insane true story” — as the I, Tonya trailer calls it — gets dragged up for rubber-necking fodder.
At least, that’s what I thought before I was lucky enough to see an advance screening of the film. I, Tonya is exactly the strange, sensationalized dark comedy that, with the movie’s first trailer, caused me to roll my eyes. But somehow, that created the Olympic season gut punch that we all deserve. All of us, from the skating fans that wish people would see our sport the way we do — not solely as tabloid fodder — the folks who eat this shit up, and even the people who might think they flat out don’t care one way or another.
It is, after all, quality entertainment.