Filmmakers Earn Props for New Netflix Olympic Sports Feature Doc 'Untold Raygun - Breaking Badly'

Olympic breakdancing never made my radar for Paris 2024. 

Instead, the women's beach volleyball final and women's soccer final, plus a water polo match, were the ticketed events du jour on 9-10 Aug., respectively. 

But almost everyone worldwide had some mix of breaking opinions thanks to Team Australia's entry, Rachael Gunn -- aka Raygun -- following her 0-54 final scores, with gold earned by Team Japan's Ami Yuasa, silver for Dominika Nicka Banevič of Lithuania and China's Liu 671 Qingyi with bronze.

For Raygun, sadly, most opinions skewed from bewilderment (was that for real?) to negative and into some of the Internet's darkest corners of false info spread by what one Aussie official aptly called out as work of "trolls and keyboard warriors" while defending Gunn.

Fortunately, Raygun's rep may earn an overdue or continuing turnaround with the release of the Netflix feature documentary "Untold Raygun - Breaking Badly" which is at once informative and entertaining while encouraging viewers to laugh with, not at, its subjects who earnestly present their truths on screen. 

Here's the trailer: 

As the film opens with Gunn describing her "wild dream" and proclaiming "I can't just be a meme," also foreshadowing the Paris fallout. 

Paraphrasing a pre-Olympics therapy session in which she proclaimed her anxious, growing concerns about the globally telecast competition exceeded common basics of imposter syndrome. 

Therapist: "What's the worst that could happen?

Raygun: "The whole world could laugh at me!"

Therapist, reassuring: "Do you think that's reasonable?" 

What makes "Untold Raygun" compelling out of the gate is the Olympian's frank descriptions and answers. In some camera-facing reveals, she is humble yet forthcoming. At other times there are tears or arms hoisted with confidence, or in defiance of forces described. By the film's closing shots, viewers have a 360 view of what makes Gunn tick.

At the center of her world is another key storyteller, husband Sammy. They met during her university days and his call center gig for Proactiv, and it's clear their bond was strong, forged in part by his B-Boy persona, Sammy Sex. 

"He was so good at supporting me and just reminding me I could do it," said Gunn. 

Except for their wedding home movies in which Sammy donned a crew cut and tux, here's the nicest guy -- worthy of the gold for supportive husband and inspirational coach -- channeling John C. Reilley's Reed Rothchild of "Boogie Nights" or John Oates of Daryl Hall fame, with the best Aussie accent and enunciation evah!

Viewers also meet several B-Girls who competed with Raygun on the lead to her Olympic trials win. Both of these breakers help frame the sport, how it's judged, and the culture and competitive friendships fostered in the culture around the sport, keeping things conversational versus deep dive technical. 

This viewer appreciated the broad strokes, taking a shine to the phrase "no easy props" meaning each dancer must prove themselves through hard work, practice and creativity (not a sport for anyone seeking free praise or pat-on-the-back attention). 

With the intro to Gunn's adorable parents, reminiscent of the quirky couples interviewed for "When Harry Met Sally," their daughter's youthful love of clarinet, ballet, tap and jazz appear with home movies. Their roller coaster to get to Paris then navigate their daughter's post-Games realities add an unexpected layer of drama and intensity. 

"She was just another suburban girl" who took home a high school senior trophy for most improved jazz dancing. A picture emerges of Gunn's academic approach to breaking, eventually earning a doctorate in the sport. 

Gunn's emotional arrival at the Paris Olympic Village reveals the jacked-up anxiety at play before the Breaking competition commenced. Scenes are punctuated by tracks from Moby ("Extreme Ways", Sia ("Unstoppable") and John Williams five-ringed anthems. National Seven News and Nine Network TV countdown coverage of Gunn mirror NBC's hype for Phelps, Biles or Ledecky, making it no wonder most of the nation Down Under was watching live at midnight Syndey time when Raygun entered the arena. 

Australianism emerges as another surprise treat. 

But the biggest surprise -- which delighted me as much as Rachel Dratch's appearance as Rachael on "The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon" made me laugh -- arrives with Richard Branson describing the night he tuned into the Olympics from his living room in the Virgin Islands, complete with real kangaroos in his backyard. His outreach to connect with Gunn, suggesting ideas for designing her turnaround that ultimately led to the film. 

"Untold Raygun -- Breaking Badly" is a fun watch that may leave your head spinning for the intense online scrutiny Gunn endured. 

Images via Netflix except for "Boogie Nights" and "Daryl Hall and John Oates" publicity photos. 

Golden Anniversary Atlanta Film Festival Features Two Olympic-Tethered Films + Coffee's For Closers!

Three cheers as the 50th Atlanta Film Festival kicks off today, celebrating five decades of movies and Georgia's storied history, present and future with broadcast and big screen entertainment.

A couple of months ago, it was delightful to learn from ATLFF 50 Executive Director Christopher Escobar, who also champions the historic Plaza Theatre and Tara Atlanta cinemas (the latter a former pro-bono client), that one of this year's festival special presentation screenings is Clint Eastwood's compelling "Richard Jewell" starring Paul Walter Hauser as the doppelganger of the Centennial Olympic Park bombing hero-turned-suspect. 

If you're local and didn't already see "Richard Jewell" around its Dec. 2019 debut, the April 25 presentation at The Plaza is worth a look. 

Bonus: Hauser and others with the film, including one of the authors of "The Suspect" on which the screenplay was partially based, are slated to participate in a post-screening Q&A.

Another Olympic-tethered title also enjoys its Southern debut via ATLFF, with the new doc "The Brittney Griner Story" slated for a May 2 presentation at Tara. I'm still digesting some of the reports from the world premiere and Sundance, and the ESPN Films PR team is mum about filmmaker or the star athlete's potential attendance at the screening. 

I've been keenly interested in speaking with Griner for years, as I was also in the same Moscow airport the week of her arrest there, and her Olympic feats are amazing.

Other ATLFF 50 events that piqued my interest include:

• 
  Current client Mark Mori's feature doc "Baristas vs Billionaires" concerning the earliest days of Starbucks Workers United and the uphill battle they've waged, including their recent record-setting national strike. My engagement as the film's publicist began in the weeks before the film's world premiere at the Buffalo International Film Festival, at which contributing producer Alec
  "Coffee's for Closers!" Baldwin participated. The film's Georgia premiere was reported by GPB Radio, Rough Draft, Saporta Report and Atlanta Journal-Constitution -- please join us at Tara April 28
  
• Mori's first film, the Oscar-nominated doc "Building Bombs," opened the 1989 Atlanta Film & Video Festival (now ATLFF) and recently enjoyed a 4K restoration to debut at Tara April 28
• Another Legacy Screening, this time for 2007's futuristic "Blood Car." Have neither seen nor heard of it but the film's poster image of an axe-wielding driver and his scantily clad female passenger on the chase did catch my eye (The Plaza May 3)
• The filmed in Georgia world premiere of the narrative feature "THIRD" regarding what appears to be a new twist on a love triangle (at Tara April 24)
• "Carolina Caroline" as a crime/romance that, at a glance, smacks of "Natural Born Killers" vibe (Tara May 1)
• "B.F. Skinner Plays Himself" feature doc on the researcher much studied before my psychology major GPA got nuked by statistics class grades (C's and D's) at Minnesota State (The Plaza April 24).

This year's festival is much calmer for this publicist, blogger and film enthusiast as last year around this time we were deep in preparation for the ATLFF world premiere of "The Games in Black & White," a client film enabling my first IMDB credit but more importantly forged four Southeast Emmy nominations for Atlanta Story Partners filmmakers George Hirthler and Bob Judson, who teamed up much like their subjects Ambassador Andrew Young and Billy Payne. 

Their unlikely partnership to successfully bid for and deliver the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games is a most interesting and entertaining five-ringed treat, which also includes numerous Olympians and Olympic Family members. 

The film team is eager for the Emmy winner announcement on May 16 (to tide me over, the media relations for the film recently picked up a Georgia PRSA Phoenix Award and two ICey Independent PR Counselor certificates). 

Back to the Atlanta Film Festival, the Atlanta Film Society also presents its annual fundraiser the 2026 IMAGE Film Awards honoring seven individuals and organizations for their outstanding contributions to filmmaking in Georgia. This year's recipients include Oscar-nominee Josh Brolin, Primetime Emmy Winner Carrie Preston, BET Awards winner Will Packer, two-time Grammy-nominated comedian David Cross, Hilton Howell, Alex Orr and the team behind George Entertainment. All gala proceeds benefit the Atlanta Film Society's year-round mission and their presentation of the 50th Atlanta Film Festival.

Check out the full schedule, badge options, tickets, parties and more via the Atlanta Film Festival website. Hope to see you at the movies. 

ATLFF 50 T-Shirt via the festival; "The Brittney Griner Story" via ESPN Films and Sundance

Hampered by Prolonged Rollout, 'September 5' Presents Riveting Drama of Munich '72 Attack

Critics wrote heaps of praise for Tim Fehlbaum's film "September 5."

For this viewer -- a 1973-born "Munich Olympic Baby" who's been studying the city's 1972 massacre as a journalism undergrad and Games historian during 30 years since college -- the film proved excellent, on par with its predecessors "Munich" by Stephen Spielberg and Kevin Macdonald's outstanding documentary "One Day In September" (on their own merits all three works are "must see"). 

A major asset is Fehlbaum's new perspective on the terrorist attack portrayed through the ABC Sports control room operated adjacent to the scene of the crime: 31 Connollystrasse in the Olympic Village, an apartment built above the road and esplanade named for the first modern Olympic champion. 

Another strength: Whether the hostages' fate is already known, or moviegoers are naive to Jim McKay's unscripted punctuation on the Olympic Family's saddest day ("They're all gone"), all "September 5" viewers seemed captivated by the gripping drama in real life story that takes little time to build tension. 

Before sunrise on Day 11 of Heitere Spiele ("The Cheerful Games"), TV producer Geoffrey Mason (John Magaro) arrives to prepare for another long shift of sports coverage. After viewers learn the studio layout and a few of its players -- such as legend-in-the-making Roone Arledge (Peter Sarsgaard) and composite characters like a German-English-Hebrew interpreter Marianne Gebhardt (Leonie Benesch) -- a pin drop could be heard once gunfire emerges from the neighboring Olympic Village. What follows is a mostly accurate though condensed unfurling of Mason & Company navigating what became the world's first live broadcast of a terrorist attack. 

"September 5" succeeds in sticking to the true story, with minimal detours of creative license. It's forgivable, for instance, that in a lighter moment the control room tracks their disguised-as-Olympian colleague talking his way into the athlete village as seen from their Volkswagen Beetle-sized camera atop Munich's Olympic Tower (about a half mile away). 

More preposterous but laughable: guns drawn Munich polizei storming the broadcast center, prompting Arledge to exclaim "Get the fuck out of my studio!" 

The only other noticeable fiction involved the screenwriter paraphrasing IOC President Avery Brundage with his statement "the Games must go on" a day early (in real life, this quote was delivered the next day at the Munich Olympic Stadium memorial service for the lost Team Israel members). 

Viewers will appreciate the authentic Munich posters, accreditation mockups, team uniforms and other tuned-to-detail touches thanks to the methodical work of costume and set designers who also used actual equipment of 1972 -- from rotary phones and Rolodexes to vintage TV studio monitors and cameras -- to painstakingly create the broadcast set and Arledge's temporary offices. 

The soundtrack gives a nod to previous Munich-centric films with Apollo 100's "Jesu Joy" setting the early-70's tone just like in Macdonald's documentary. There's lots to love about German composer Lorenz Dangel's techno-centered score, with the strings of "Helicopters" played as Howard Cosell defines "shalom" for nearly a billion TV viewers, each note foreshadowing Team Israel's fate at Furstenfeldbruck. 

Another favorite line quipped in response to Mason's team instructions: "You got it, Kubrick!" 

The best unexpected surprise of "September 5" is that, unlike Spielberg and Macdonald, Fehlbaum does not cut off McKay after famously uttering "they're all gone." For the first time in over 30 years of studying this global event, we learn what else McKay had to say after "our greatest hopes and our worst fears are seldom realized."

"They're all gone. It's all over. The Israeli Olympic Team is destroyed, much of it. But what will happen to the Games of the XXth Olympiad? None of us know what will happen ... to the course of world history."

For all the film's strengths, Paramount's promotion and release plan proved to be a disappointing head-scratcher. 

After securing distribution last fall and setting limited release in New York and LA during November, according to industry reports, the studio pushed back wider release to December then January, then again when the locked-in mid-January date finally arrived. 

Frustrated by a lack of answers from Paramount's unresponsive national media relations team and vague responses from more local reps when asked "where is this film actually screening?" (as it was nowhere near Atlanta), I reached out to two New York Times reporters who replied with related insights.

Lead critic Manohla Dargis, who scribed The Times' Critics Pick praise of the film, stated distribution wasn't her bag while offering the Oscar factor was likely in play.

"Once the nominations are announced [viewers] should have some clarity on the release," she said. "I hope that you can see it in a theater."

Fortunately, by that time, I had seen it at a special preview screening, but friends in places low and high were still asking "where is September 5?"

Dargis' West coast colleague Brooks Barnes, for which film distribution is his bag/beat, seconded the Oscar timing theory while adding that some recent flubs and failures of other Paramount releases, combined with an array of recent or upcoming corporate changes, may have been in play, or they just didn't know what to do with the topics the film presents. At least my misery was in good company for lack of response from Paramount PR.

"I sent a query, and if I get an answer, I'll let you know," wrote Barnes. 

Not surprisingly, that was the end of that. 

Even with an Academy Award nomination for best original screenplay, within a week of its very limited nationwide release, Paramount perplexingly pulled the critically acclaimed film out of the few U.S. theaters that had it, later rushing it to streaming by early February. 

Paramount's team apparently was so unsure what to do with "September 5" they didn't even add it to their own Paramount + service. 

My grade of their distribution plan: D minus. 

And the question emerges: To what extent was this wutend oder enttauscht for Fehlbaum?

"September 5" is worth the search and price to view it where it is available -- as of this mid-February post, Apple TV, Fandango at Home, Plex, Prime Video and Row8 have the film streaming in the $9.99 to $19.99 range. Watch it. 

And if you're lucky enough to find it on the big screen, take it from Dargis' advice and get thee to the cinema. 

Images via Paramount's "September 5" press materials

Shallow Writing Sinks "The Boys In The Boat"

Following a recent press screening for "The Boys In The Boat," the host asked my thoughts of the five-ring-related film. 

With thanks to Allied Global Marketing for the pre-Christmas media ticket, my response to their rep was that I really wanted to love this movie -- based on a great book by Daniel James Brown -- but didn't as there were too many issues, starting with writing as shallow as the eight-man sculls on screen.

In the weeks since the Dec. 18 screening in Atlanta, an online search yielded that at least one film critic deemed the George Clooney 2023 picture comparable to the 1981 Oscar-winning best picture directed by Hugh Hudson with a screenplay by Colin Welland (who also earned an Academy Award, among four wins from seven nominations for the outstanding earlier film).  

"'The Boys In The Boat' is like 'Chariots of Fire' on the water," wrote James Verniere of the Boston Herald.  

With all due respect to Mr. Verniere, it's not. 

Not even close. 

Looking for the good, the costume team led by veteran designer Jenny Eagan nailed it. 

It's impressive on the big screen that "The Boys in the Boat" Olympic attire -- from Team USA's uniforms to the athlete and official Berlin Olympic pins -- all pops with authenticity, right down to the colored ribbons that served as the era's Olympian accreditation. 

In a publicity video, Eagan describes some of her team's creative process:

While drafting this post, I sent a LinkedIn message to Eagan requesting an interview as her press clip above did not answer my key questions on her team's research of the Berlin uniforms, pins and other 1936 attire (when she responds, a follow up post or update in this one may follow).

Paraphrasing the night-of-screening remarks by my guest for the viewing event, the film's production design team also deserves a shout-out for what seemed to be a mostly accurate depiction of the 1936 Games on the waters of Berlin's Langer See, the river-filled lake which served as the rowing venue. From the credits, it's my understanding a Canadian reservoir was the crew's home and set for many takes. 

But back to the issues that sunk the film for this blogger. 

As noted, strike one was the writing as I found Mark L. Smith's screenplay flat, predictable and, more than once, annoying for its missed opportunities. 

Too many times I felt like turning to my seatmates and stating, "and now [insert character name] is going to state [fill in the blank with aptly anticipated often monosyllabic retort]." Did the head coach reject his wife's late-night flirtations because he was tired or because they were written so silly? Tough call. But worse, who cared? As evidenced with a mid-film popcorn and pee break, I stopped paying attention an hour earlier! 

In another example, viewers meet the wise old longboat craftsman who spouts wisdom and the lore of rowing from a lifetime of experience, but the writing is so dumbed down, my thoughts drifted to fresh lyrics for the popular nursery rhyme, "Row, row, row your boat, gently on the screen, wearily, wearily, wearily, wearily, weaker than a meme!"

The second strike was shallow character development. While Brown sank the oars deep into history and his Olympian (and coaching) characters on the pages of his book, Smith's screenplay only skimmed the surface floating too many stories with no depth while failing to tie up numerous loose ends by the final scenes. 

The audience meets, for instance, the main protagonist and his love interest, who clearly supports his athletic interests across two continents and an ocean. But by the time the closing credits roll, the audience exits wondering what happened to her once a flashback device lifted directly from "Saving Private Ryan" returns viewers from Berlin '36 to modern times. Did the main character marry her? Who knows? Who cares? Not Smith, and the screenplay instead called for rolling the credits. 

Squandering Joel Edgerton's talent -- on the heels of his memorable lead role in "Master Gardener" -- also left me scratching and shaking my head. The scenes of the coach he portrayed, and his wife, were just weird, or too PG, and their relationship status proved another unresolved cliffhanger by the film's conclusion. Worse still, he's never given the words nor actions to equal coach Sam Mussabini as portrayed by Sir Ian Holm. 

Strike three: Non sequitur micro-dramas also abound, such as the awkward introduction of a dining car social class showdown aboard the New England-bound train to the Olympic trials, or a square-pegged moment with Jesse Owens that omits mention of Team USA's other Black athletes in Berlin. Then, after this nod to history, the screenplay has the audacity to suggest the Führer himself became more exasperated by Team USA rowers than Owens' track and field feats. Nein.

Auch Nein for portraying the international rowing judge in Nazi attire. But thanks to Eagan's team, at least the uniform looked right. 

Mega NEIN the protagonist's love interest could find a radio broadcast of Olympic rowing ... live ... from Berlin ... with a nine-hour time difference that assumes the race on a lake half-way across the globe had an afternoon start time. Even if you were in love, as a 1936 Seattle resident, would you be awake before dawn rapturously tuned-in to rowing commentary live from Germany? Would you be tuned in from the East Coast, or anywhere? 

The most nervig, er, annoying scene of all arrived when a key character finds himself kicked off the team only to have his Olympian status restored thanks to poor man's version of Richard Gere's "I got nowhere else to go!" speech to Louis Gossett Jr. in "An Officer and a Gentleman." Sadly, the rowing version is not at all quotable. 

Also missing from "The Boys in the Boat" is a memorable soundtrack. For all of Alexandre Desplat's strengths and skills as a composer, it was disappointing that even the film's score seemed to be trying too hard. The only time it worked was in support of the final race. No Vangelis here. 

For a comparison, you can hear the Greek composer's Oscar-winning score just by its mention here, yes? No one's gonna by humming nor jogging, nor rowing, to "The Boys in the Boat" soundtrack. 

I'm not pulling solo, single skull-style with some of my perspectives, according to the AP's review by Jocelyn Noveck. Though she's a bit kinder and more professional in her remarks, her notes on the screenplay are apt. Silver Screen Capture's writer also catches my drift. 

To his credit, Clooney mentioned one point of the film was to bring people together to cheer a common cause. He must be onto something because, curiously, there were a lot of cheers when Team USA won gold in the Dec. 18 screening auditorium. A crowd pleaser? Perhaps. (Our screening was packed with high school and college rowers.)

Only time will tell whether ticket sales leave MGM cheering as well (as of this Jan. 11 post, the film is still $4.9 million shy of recouping its $40 million budget). According to online sources, "Chariots of Fire" banked $59 million atop a $5.5 million budget. 

Someday when I'm afforded an opportunity to speak with Herr Director George, just like Sister Nancy Usselman (see photo), my first question will be the extent to which the final Olympic race and its clunky camera angles took inspiration from SCTV 3-D Theatre. In the early 1980s, was Clooney tuned in to John Candy, too (at the :45 and 1:20 marks in this clip)?

The bottom line is that too often it felt "The Boys in the Boat" tried too hard (und scheiterte) to accomplish too much, and audiences can do themselves a favor by instead watching "Chariots of Fire" for inspiration.

Image credits: Penguin Random House book cover, Calum Turner image via the X account @CTurnerUpdates on which no photo credit was shared, stills by Laurie Sparham/MGM, Clooney red carpet premiere photo via the Pauline Center for Media Studies blog on which no photo credit was given to Sister Usselman's camera operator. 

Review: Golden Moments Abound In "I, TONYA"

There's a captivating moment of stillness in "I, Tonya" -- the highly anticipated figure skating drama disguised as comedy -- which may just earn the film's leading star some golden awards.

Donning a homemade uniform in a Norwegian ice arena dressing room, Margot Robbie stares into the camera, as through a two-way mirror, to apply a thick coat of dark rouge to her cheeks while her character -- disgraced Olympian Tonya Harding -- prepares to skate in her last winter Games.

As she attempts to fake a "psych-yourself-up-for-the-ice" smile, her emotions -- at last cracked by the pressures of the world's stage, its judgments upon her shoulders, and a lifetime of physical and verbal abuse -- bring forth a single, slow motion tear.

And when the film finally achieves national release next month -- on the 24th anniversary of the events around which Harding's bio are centered (Jan. 6) -- I believe audiences coast-to-coast will cry, too, empathizing with her.

With thanks to the publicists for distributor Neon who sent this Olympic blogger a link to a media screener, on Monday evening I watched "I, Tonya" in my apartment. What a treat!

Much like other recently-experienced award-contender films "Lady Bird," "Blade Runner 2049" and "Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri," the skating movie made me want to watch it again right away.

"I, Tonya" is so good.

A theory is that director Craig Gillespie laced "I, Tonya" with subtle homages to a handful of great scenes of '80's and '90's cinema from the years during which Harding's real-life drama took shape.

The tearful solitude during Robbie's makeup application (described above) reminded me of Glenn Close's powerful mascara-removing closing shot, weeping while accepting her fate as the shamed widow at the center of "Dangerous Liaisons."

About mid-film in "I, Tonya," during a scene portraying how competition judges too-often downgraded Harding's hardscrabble performances with low marks, a livid and unapologetically crass Tonya tells a row of officials to "suck my dick!" just like Demi Moore to her master chief while soldiering on as "G.I. Jane."

And a youthful Harding endures paternal abandonment through a tearful and gut-wrenching car-side goodbye to her daddy, just like little Bernice in "Hope Floats."

But first, "I, Tonya" begins with matter-of-fact introductions of Harding, her mother LaVona Golden (expertly crafted by Allison Janney -- more about her later), Harding's dastardly ex-husband Jeff Gillooly (Sebastian Stan), his one-time friend and oafish self-proclaimed bodyguard/espionage expert Shawn Eckhardt (Paul Walter Hauser), and a slippery "Hard Copy" producer (Bobby Cannavale) who covered the attack on fellow skater Nancy Kerrigan and its aftermath, which Harding later tags as "The Incident" and only reason everyone is watching.

Through documentary-style living room or kitchen storytelling confessionals, members of Harding's five-ring circus each present their version of events. Not surprising, their stories rarely jive.

Janney as LaVona = scary. Here's a woman so grizzled she smoked on the ice while enrolling the four-year-old Tonya in youth skating lessons before kicking her daughter out of her chair while admonishing her crying child to "Answer me when I talk to you!"

"You think Sonja Henie's mother mother loved her?" asks LaVona of her daughter. "Poor fucking you!"

Yikes!

Sidebar: The young actress who skates as a pre-teen Harding (Mckenna Grace) gives a confident child star performance reminiscent of a Hannah Pilkes as Robin in "The Woodsman."

Introducing her exotic bird, who roosts on LaVona's shoulder and pecks at her ear, Janney describes the aviary companion named "Little Man" and her "sixth husband" who is the "best one."

Cute, until she tells a teenage Harding's coach to "lick my ass -- she can do a f-ing triple" as in triple axel, which became Tonya's signature move to win the 1991 U.S. Figure Skating Championships.

Before achieving this pinnacle moment on ice, viewers learn of Harding's awkward introduction to Gillooly (LaVona chaperoned their first date) and the physical abuse that escalated until their 1993 divorce.

LaVona's mother-daughter coaching dynamic, which skews to bullying as motivator, peaks with maternal bribes to fans to psych-out (or toughen?) Tonya before key competitions.

Harding and Kerrigan were friends and roomies during these years, audiences learn. And we learn about Tonya placing out of the medals at the 1992 Albertville Winter Games.

"When you come in fourth at the Olympics, you don't get endorsement deals," said a dejected skater-turned-waitress Harding.

With scant employment prospects and motivated by a 1993 visit from her first fired-in-a-tirade coach (Julianne Nicholson), Tonya decides to return to the ice for another Games in just a year (in real life, the 1992 and 1994 Winter Olympic cycle was determined by the IOC much earlier, with creative license slightly tweaking the timeline to "just today" for "Games in Norway next year").

More choices tip some dominoes, and it's not long before Kerrigan's famous screams of "Why?" echo through a Detroit ice rink.

Fun facts from Tonya's training -- like jogging with a 50 pound bag of Purina Dog Chow a la Sly Stallone carrying trees across his Siberian training in "Rocky IV" -- keep things light along the ride.

I'm not gonna try to describe "The Incident" because all its complexities are either mostly known to those who witnessed them in 1994 or may remain as curiously riveting to new audiences in 2018.

Let's state instead that tabloid journalism cut its pre-O.J. Simpson coverage teeth with the Harding/Kerrigan story, and "I, Tonya" delivers in its unspooling then reconstruction of "what happened."

This is where Hauser as Eckhardt nearly steals the show as a man so incompetent on so many fronts.

It's like watching Larry, Curley and Moe all wrapped up with both characters of "Dumb and Dumber" and a dash, er, 300+ pounds of Richard Jewell ... for the win!

Sheesh, so cringe worthy and funny! And scary, "Oh, my!"

At the risk of disclosing minor spoilers, one of the best scenes that unfolds just after "The Incident" shows Eckhardt instructing Gillooly -- in his best "Deep Throat" or James Bond 007 whisper -- to "meet me at Golden Buddha, at our regular table, at the stroke of midnight."

Which brings me to a cameo by one of my favorite Chinese restaurants in suburban Atlanta.

Yes, The Golden Buddha restaurant on Clairmont Road in Decatur, Ga., is "the place" where Gillooly and Eckhardt share their clandestine conversation that unraveled the Harding/Kerrigan incident as the FBI listened from a parked van outside.

Just after watching "I, Tonya" it was fun to enjoy a late-night meal at "The Buddha" and learn from the owner and manager how a location scout approached them in early 2016 to rent the restaurant for a day.

"They liked our original, authentic look," said proprietor Ben Lee in a brief interview near Table 47 (shown) where Eckhardt attempts to incriminate Gillooly, already guilty by association and by many other measures.

Diners get Gillooly'd at blue Table 47

"We opened in 1977 and they filmed in fall 2016," added Lee. "At first we were reluctant to close for a day because of our customers, but we are glad we got involved [with "I, Tonya"].

According to the film's press kit, filming across Atlanta spanned 30 days. But none of other scenes in "I, Tonya" reveal specific Atlanta destinations.

My guess is the Arena at Gwinnett Center served as the Olympic and U.S. Championships skating venues. Shooting also took place in New York (including venues in Lake Placid?) for key rink scenes. (I later read this article citing venues in Macon, Ga.).

Speaking of the skating surfaces, the set decoration and CGI used in "I, Tonya" does present an authentic look of the Games used in Albertville '92 and Lillehammer '94 including the Olympic rings and logos or graphics used by the official broadcasters of both events.

Archival footage including Connie Chung, Ann Curry, David Letterman and other real TV personalities adds to the authenticity.

I wonder what groans and other reactions may occur as Matt Lauer circa 1994 appears on the big screen. Brought me a wince and chuckle.

The music helps, too. An original score by Peter Naschel and more than 30 crowd pleasing classic rock, pop and techno songs accompany the action of "I, Tonya."

I was jamming mostly with "Every 1's A Winner" (Hot Chocolate) or "Little Girl Bad" (Joanie Sommers) and favorites by ZZ Top, Foreigner, Violent Femmes, Heart, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Supertramp.

Doubtful but fun to entertain the notion that Harding skated in Albertville to La Tour's "People Are Still Having Sex."

Great editing, leverage and crescendo of "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac.

There's also a hilarious albeit "serious" reference to Richard Marx!

While pondering this film since viewing its trailer earlier this year, I wondered and started asking some figure skating veterans their take.

And today I reached out to the media relations team for U.S. Figure Skating to ask their stance on "I, Tonya" (also to attempt contact with Harding or Kerrigan -- will trying to contact them put me on thin ice?). Will write up responses as they are presented.

Robbie as Harding speaks throughout the film about truth and personal experience.

The truth is, "I, Tonya" is gonna be a huge hit for its excellent blend of storytelling, acting, drama with laughs, and its Olympic flair.

Sadly, it also reminds viewers that for Harding (and everyone) -- like my Golden Buddha fortune of Monday night -- "life ... is a reality to be experienced."

Photos by Neon, Newsweek and Nicholas Wolaver

Olympic Gymnasts Spoofed By 'The Bronze'

The first time I heard about "The Bronze" -- the new comedy that spoofs Olympic gymnastics -- it had just debuted at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

Following some studio troubles and distribution issues, it took longer than anticipated to finally see it, but I recently enjoyed a media preview screening just in time for its limited release (pushed back yet again) on Friday. 

It's too bad this five-ringed flick may not get a broader audience; the film is packed with many funny moments, some very funny. 

But over time, "The Bronze" may gain a cult following on par with other sports-skewering late night comedies like bowling's "Kingpin" or golf's "Caddyshack." 

Early scenes introduce viewers to the young Hope Annabelle Greggory, an Olympian from small town Ohio competing at the Rome 2004 Olympics. In case you weren't sure: Unlike other recent releases "Race" and "Eddie The Eagle," "The Bronze" is not based on a specific Olympian, nor are its Olympic scenes based on real-life. 

After Hope's ankle audibly snaps during her televised balance beam routine, the would-be Kerri Strug guts through one more routine to secure a bronze medal and win America's sweetheart status, in the process upstaging fellow U.S. gymnasts who took home the gold.

Flash forward 10 years: Adult Greggory (Melissa Rauch), now pushing 30, has long-since gotten sponsorship offers or appearance fees. Donning her Team USA uniform, she fills her days with trips to the mall in search of free food, shoes and other Olympic hero spoils she negotiated through questionable means (some X-rated).

When she's not cruising the mall or small town Ohio streets in her bronze and rusting Buick, Hope spends time stealing greeting card cash from her postal dad's mail truck and hiding out in her trophy-filled basement room, at times masturbating to stuck landings in her own competition videos.

Getting the picture? America's sweetheart ... gone wild!

Viewers may recognize Hope's father Stan (Gary Cole) from his previous authoritarian role in "Office Space" (yeah, that manager with the TPS reports and great coffee mug).

Though Stan loves Hope, he's reached the end of his rope in trying to nudge her out of the nest. Then opportunity knocks!

Through a series of unfortunate events centered on her former coach's suicide and an unexpected inheritance secretly promised to her, Hope reluctantly accepts a coaching gig to train America's next sweetheart gymnast -- high schooler Maggie Townsend, Hope's heir apparent -- in time for the Toronto 2016 Games.

Though gaining a small fortune is Hope's only real motivation, for her own dark amusement she unleashes a spectrum of awful pranks undermining her naive protege's training through bad diet, condoning premarital sex and bottled water spiked with ecstasy, all while fending off an encroaching U.S. Gymnastics coaching nemesis dead-set on luring Maggie over to his camp.

Refraining from more screenplay details, I'll just state that by the time an intense gymnastics sex scene and the Toronto Games are underway, sportsmanlike conduct is long gone and Hope's back story on her vault from sweetheart to seductress is fully disclosed, with many hilarious if raunchy, er, Rauch-y one-liners delivered. There are a few times when this joke or that joke are just slightly overcooked, but overall most lines aren't forced.

I really took a shine to the dancer-turned-actress Haley Lu Richardson as Maggie, an ever-chipper yet gullible athlete looking to Hope for advice.

Between Maggie's Christian one-liners ("cursing hurts God's spirit") and cluelessly suggestive secret hand signals (finger poking her other hand's encircled fingers) she earned some of the biggest laughs.

My prediction is that others will one day recall this Richardson comedy debut the way folks already reminisce about Jonah Hill in "Superbad."

Thomas Middleditch as the awkward gym owner (and lifetime small town Hope fan) provides a dose of sensitivity that also will make folks smile.

It was fun spotting Olympic cameos by Dominique Dawes, Olga Korbut and Dominique Moceanu, and most of the music is apt. Fans may enjoy Doris Day crooning "Why-o-why-o did I leave Ohio?" and the end credits rolling to a Rauch gymnastics rap ("I'm a bronze ass beeochh!") are nice finishing touches.

"The Bronze" leaves no doubt its "R" rating is appropriate, so some Rio 2016 Olympic hopefuls may have to wait for theatre access. I suspect the DVD will put the "nasty" into artistic gymnastics while leaving room for rhythmic or trampoline sequels.

Images via Sony Classics