I, TONYA ■ Blood on the ice
Being late to the review party has its perks, like sighing with relief that Allison Janney deservedly won the Oscar for Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in her depiction of godawful mother LaVona in I, TONYA. The thing is, she’s far from the only reason to watch this fantastic movie, even if she demands that all eyes are on her whenever she’s on screen (she’s that good).
In the scenes that Janney isn’t in, Margot Robbie is in charge as the titular Tonya, a character based on the real-life Olympic figure skater caught up in a stranger-than-fiction story of jealousy, dire misunderstandings, and crimes against skater knees. Screenwriter Steven Rogers has presented the familiar tale of the antihero skater in such a compelling way that it’s hard to not stay fully engaged, aside from the odd slow moment.
Director Craig Gillespie helms the story with an obvious sense of confidence and disregard for breaking the fourth wall in a darkly funny crime story that plays out like GOODFELLAS on ice. At the head of the story is Robbie who carries it forward in her warts-and-all portrayal of an underdog character who, despite some of what she says and does, you can’t help but root for. Then there’s Sebastian Stan’s subtly sympathetic portrayal of Tonya’s husband Jeff who you love to hate but yet somehow occasionally feel sorry for.
I, TONYA is a compelling take on one of the greatest Olympic controversies. It effortlessly shifts between dark drama, in-depth character study, and laugh-out-loud hilarity in a way that really shouldn’t work but totally does. If you’re after a movie that ticks all the entertainment right boxes, don’t skate past this.
