I, Tonya

OK, maybe blondes don't always win. But I'd still make them the betting favorites in most scenarios. It takes a lot of negatives imposed upon the flaxen-haired to hold them back; apparently, Tonya Harding lived under a rain of negatives (not unusual in the Pacific Northwest--certainly the rain part). This film makes a fairly convincing case that she achieved something of a miracle to accomplish as much as she did. That message, if it is an intentional argument of this movie, barely comes through, thanks to one huge filmmaking mistake: a lot of distractingly untimely music on the soundtrack. If you were alive back then, it's pretty easy to notice and glaringly obvious that none of the "needledrops" are contemporaneous with the story. In most cases, that would be a minor issue--but here the music is so front and center that you have to think it's intentional, and that some message is meant by it. If it's trying to appeal to a certain demographic, that seems rather pointless, and undercuts any sense that this story could have a universal appeal. If it's trying to tell the story through the music--there's reason to believe that--the effect comes across as less clever and insightful and more clumsy. The whole issue obscures a movie that could have relied upon its host of strong performances; all of the principals acquit themselves quite well, and the tale itself does have broad interest woven into its very fabric. But the ultimate impression is one of filmmakers who didn't really trust their own story--and thus, as a viewer, you're left to wonder how much trust and interest you should invest in these proceedings. Ultimately, they didn't even nail the compulsories, let alone the artistic program. Not bad, but not on the medal stand, either.