Craig Gillespie
I, Tonya

Tonya and America. Tonya is America.

Deep America, truer and purer than the one portrayed by wealthy California, Hollywood, or Silicon Valley.

Beloved and hated. Opposed by that respectable and fake America, or rather, fake respectability (the one represented today by #MeToo or various moralist movements), where the image matters as much - more, to be honest - as talent. Because skating in an unconventional, exuberant way, with self-made tutus, with ZZ Top or Heart in the background was not the image that America wanted to project of itself. "Artistic interpretation,” it was called, what was needed beyond showcasing one's skills.

Tonya's America. Dysfunctional families, white trash, hillbillies, scruffy and outspoken, provincial, with little formal education, politically incorrect and profoundly genuine. The other side of the American dream. The one that's not pretty to advertise.

Tonya now a popular myth, after a long and arduous climb to the top of national skating, culminating with the historic triple axel (second woman ever in official competitions and first American). Tonya then at the center of the famous scandal that involved her, in a very controversial and convoluted manner, in the attack on her great rival Nancy Kerrigan. Tonya now demonized, besieged by the media, betrayed, repeatedly mocked. When it comes to the speed of creating and destroying heroes, Americans are famously second to none.

I, Tonya among the most surprising films of recent times. Between the one with her mother and the one with her boyfriend-then-husband Jeff Gillooly, a tough competition on which was the more sick and toxic relationship. The alternation between moments almost like (fake) investigative cinema, thriller/noir with grotesque and Coen-like twists (much more Coen-esque I, Tonya than the overrated Ebbing), fake interviews, reconstructions, and dramatizations, a powerful reflection on the relativity of the concept of truth.

"There's no such thing as truth": never a more fitting and pertinent concept. Despite this, certainly, the preferred point of view is that of this fantastic antihero, with whom one can't help but empathize and for whom it's hard not to feel sympathy. Harassed since childhood, asthmatic and a devoted athletic smoker, constantly under enormous pressures from her even greater potential and ultimately, irrevocably, alone.

A film loaded with devastating dark humor without any outlet or final consolation.

The eternal dichotomy between being a winner and a loser, the concept of the Loser/Winner dualism a perpetual obsession in American culture. Beyond the obsession with the big spotlight, the ephemeral and timed nature of fame, the ready scavenging of the media. A big piece of America is staged in an admirable way, original yet without saying anything new, wonderfully over-the-top.

It's hard to find words to praise the performance of Margot Robbie, stunning and monumental, rich in nuances, wonderfully defeated by the story beyond her faults, although calling her a victim makes as little sense as blaming her. Guilt or victimhood have nothing to do with stories like this.

An affair so absurd, grotesque, contradictory, and hallucinating that it could only be real. Or at least, inspired by reality, with obvious cinematic licenses. It matters little how many and which ones, because the essence is depicted here as well as it could be.

Not that McDormand's Oscar left room for complaints, but if there had been more courage, giving it to DiCaprio's ex-wife in Wolf of Wall Street and the upcoming Sharon Tate in Tarantino's next film would have thrilled me as much as the awarding of the fabulous Allison Janney as Best Supporting Actress.

Tonya and American stories.

After Foxcatcher, another American story, certainly less tragic than that of billionaire John du Pont and Dave Shultz, but where, once again, sports competition, even in an Olympic context, serves as the backdrop for the many small and large miseries and frustrations of provincial America. A sporting environment that is often so emblematic in uncovering human nature and relationships like nothing else.