Published on Nov 1, 2017 
 
 I, Tonya Trailer #1 (2017): Check out the official trailer starring Margot Robbie, Allison Janney, and Sebastian Stan! Be the first to watch, comment, and share trailers and movie teasers/clips dropping soon @MovieclipsTrailers. 
 
 
 
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 Competitive ice skater Tonya Harding rises among the ranks at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, but her future in the sport is thrown into doubt when her ex-husband intervenes. 
 
 
 
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 The Fandango MOVIECLIPS Trailers channel is your destination for hot new trailers the second they drop. The Fandango MOVIECLIPS Trailers team is here day and night to make sure all the hottest new movie trailers are available whenever, wherever you want them. ||||| Based on the unbelievable, but true events, I, TONYA is a darkly comedic tale of American figure skater, Tonya Harding, and one of the most sensational scandals in sports history. Though Harding was the first American woman to complete a triple axel in competition, her legacy was forever defined by her association with an infamous, ill-conceived, and even more poorly executed attack on fellow Olympic competitor Nancy Kerrigan. Featuring an iconic turn by Margot Robbie as the fiery Harding, a mustachioed Sebastian Stan as her impetuous ex-husband Jeff Gillooly, a tour-de-force performance from Allison Janney as her acid-tongued mother, LaVona Golden, and an original screenplay by Steven Rogers, Craig Gillespie's I, TONYA is an absurd, irreverent, and piercing portrayal of Harding's life and career in all of its unchecked--and checkered--glory. 
 
 Rating: R (for pervasive language, violence, and some sexual content/nudity) 
 
 Genre: Drama 
 
 Directed By: Craig Gillespie 
 
 Written By: Steven Rogers 
 
 On Disc/Streaming: Mar 13, 2018 
 
 Box Office: $28,950,158 
 
 Runtime: 119 minutes 
 
 Studio: NEON ||||| type Movie genre Drama release date 12/08/17 performer Margot Robbie, Allison Janney, Sebastian Stan director Craig Gillespie mpaa R 
 
 We gave it an A- 
 
 In a sport of princesses, Tonya Harding was the perpetual toad: a trashy, too-brash outsider whose mind-blowing axels and sheer athleticism could never quite make up for the fact that she didn’t fit the demure, spangled mold of an ideal figure skater. Raised but hardly nurtured by a chain-smoking waitress (Allison Janney, a viper in Tootsie glasses and a mushroom-cap haircut), Tonya steadily clawed her way up the junior ranks, thanks mostly to pure willpower and the proxy parenting of a coach (Julianne Nicholson) who tried her best to steer her wild-card charge. What set Harding’s destiny, though, was the arrival of Jeff Gillooly (Sebastian Stan), the dim-bulb paramour and protector whose wonky scheme to take down his wife’s rival Nancy Kerrigan would go down in Olympics infamy. 
 
 Director Craig Gillespie (Lars and the Real Girl) frames the movie as a faux documentary stuffed with flashbacks, talking heads, and fourth-wall-breaking asides. His form of satire can be a blunt instrument; it’s hard to tell sometimes whether he wants to be the Coen brothers, Christopher Guest, or just Spinal Tap on ice. But he’s also working from a script where the truth was irrefutably stranger than any fiction. And though the physical abuse Harding endures leaves an ugly bruise on its high-camp ’90s nostalgia, there’s something genuinely electric about the narrative’s headlong tumble into madness. The skating scenes, too, are thrilling, but Robbie is the real revelation. In a performance that goes far beyond bad perms and tabloid punchlines, she’s a powerhouse: a scrappy, defiant subversion of the American dream. You won’t just find yourself rooting for this crazy kid; you might even fall a little bit in love. A- ||||| You probably haven’t thought about Tonya Harding much recently. Truly, why would you? The Olympic figure skater reached the height of her fame nearly a quarter century ago for something that didn’t even happen on the ice: the notorious attack on rival Nancy Kerrigan, orchestrated by Harding’s then-husband, Jeff Gillooly, just before the 1994 U.S. Figure Skating Championships in Detroit. 
 
 Even though Harding wasn’t personally involved in the infamous, injurious leg-whacking, she may as well have been, her reputation and career were so irreparably damaged. She became a punchline, her name alone providing a bitter shorthand for scandal. 
 
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 All of which makes “I, Tonya” such a wonder. Not only will it make you think about Tonya Harding again, it will make you do so with unexpected sympathy. It will make you feel for her, deeply, for the abuse and pain she’s suffered for so much of her life. Director Craig Gillespie pulls off what would seem to be an impossible high-wire act: He’s made a movie that’s affectionately mocking—of this theatrical sport, of the idiots who surrounded Harding, of this hideous moment in fashion and pop culture—without actually mocking Harding herself. 
 
 Steven Rogers’ script shows great kindness and emotional charity for this wounded figure, even as it tells her story through a whirlwind of unreliable narrators. It’s “GoodFellas” on ice—darkly comic and often just plain dark, but always breathtakingly alive. Despite the colorful glitz and cheese of the figure-skating setting, “I, Tonya” has an unmistakably tumultuous air from the very start. And at the center of the storm is Margot Robbie in the performance of a lifetime as Harding. 
 
 Robbie has steadily shown keen insight in the roles she’s chosen, a hunger for the challenge of meaty material and a clear drive to prove she’s so much more than just a beautiful face. Whether it’s as the va-va-voomy siren of “The Wolf of Wall Street” (which put her on the map), the smooth scam artist of “Focus,” the bat-wielding bad-ass Harley Quinn in “Suicide Squad” or the noble frontier woman of “Z for Zachariah,” Robbie has dazzled us with her versatility, even as she’s consistently held us with her charismatic screen presence. Here, she’s got the requisite swagger of an athlete at the top of her sport (and even learned to skate for the part), but it’s tinged with sadness as we the see the low sense of self-worth buried underneath—the result of years of physical and verbal abuse at the hands of her cruel mother. 
 
 Allison Janney absolutely tears it up as the profane, chain-smoking LaVona Harding, constantly insulting Tonya and messing with her mind in the name of making her a champion. It’s a showy, scenery-chewing performance but it’s not one-note; Janney brings an undercurrent of sorrow to the part in revealing LaVona’s twisted methodology. 
 
 But Tonya was doomed never to receive an enthusiastic embrace from the figure skating elite because she and her mother didn’t fit their superficial, socioeconomic ideals. That’s an element of Harding’s story that “I, Tonya” depicts incisively; it’s one of the key components to her tragic downfall, but it also makes her story relatable beyond the insular world of figure skating. Growing up poor in Portland, Oregon, with her frizzy ponytail and poofy, homemade costumes, Harding struggled to look the part of the pristine ice queen—something Kerrigan achieved effortlessly. Even though Harding was an extraordinarily athletic female skater—one of a rare few to this day to land a triple axel cleanly in competition—U.S. judges often didn’t give her the scores she deserved because she didn’t adhere to the image they wanted to project. 
 
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 When Harding married the first man who was nice to her—at least, at first—she went from one abusive situation to another because it felt familiar, if nothing else. Sebastian Stan initially plays the part of Jeff Gillooly with a hint of benign goofiness. He’s a sleaze ball in a turtleneck and a porn mustache. But as his violent side emerges and his emotional hold on Tonya strengthens, he’s positively chilling—and your heart breaks for her all over again, because you know that no matter where she goes, she’s trapped. 
 
 Under those circumstances, it’s a miracle she could get out on the ice merely to practice, much less compete at the absolute highest echelons of the sport. And the more we learn about her life, the more it becomes sadly clear that the odds were always stacked against her. 
 
 In interviews both recreated and imagined, Gillespie depicts her rise and fall from a variety of competing perspectives and contradictory voices. (Editor Tatiana S. Riegel keeps the film moving at a propulsive pace.) We hear from Harding herself; an increasingly abrasive LaVona; Harding’s genteel coach, Diane (Julianne Nicholson); a squirmy Gillooly; and Gillooly’s delusional pal, Shawn Eckhardt (Paul Walter Hauser), Harding’s self-appointed “bodyguard” and the mastermind of what everyone bitterly refers to as “The Incident.” 
 
 Taken together, they create a picture that isn’t exactly the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. What “I, Tonya” does provide honestly, though, is a vivid slice of pop culture history—an irresistible, soapy mix of jealousy, competition and class warfare, fortified by powerful performances and unexpected emotional resonance. 
 
 Given the gripping, heightened reality of this stranger-than-fiction tale, it’s frustrating that Gillespie has chosen so many on-the-nose soundtrack selections to punctuate particular moments. "Devil Woman" by Cliff Richard starts up as LaVona barks orders on the ice at a young Tonya, played with convincing angst and heartache by Mckenna Grace. Supertramp’s “Goodbye Stranger” plays during a beautifully fluid sequence in which Harding finally finds the guts to leave Gillooly and her volatile life with him behind. Great songs, all, but the classic rock needle drops can be distractingly obvious. 
 
 
 
 Still, that’s a minor deduction in an otherwise nearly flawless program. “I, Tonya” is one of the year’s best films. ||||| 'I, Tonya,' You, Implicated 
 
 Enlarge this image toggle caption 30West 30West 
 
 Tonya Harding was never supposed to be a pro figure skater. Like so many young American dreamers before her, she had it all wrong for success: born into the wrong class, raised by the wrong role model, drawn to the wrong men. And she had the wrong kind of femininity for the sport she loved, too, because those judges didn't want to see a ZZ Top routine from someone who sewed her own costume, even if it did include a flawlessly executed triple axel. 
 
 So when Harding did find a bit of glory, there were corrective measures in place, and her self-made undoing — by playing some part in the "hit" on U.S. rival Nancy Kerrigan's leg, the scandal that would unravel her career and the entire 1990s along with it — was the fitting, flaming end to her membership in the elite club that never wanted her anyway. 
 
 That is the argument put forth by I, Tonya, the cheeky and skate-sharp new biopic from director Craig Gillespie coming only a few short years after the ESPN documentary. The title tips us off that Harding's story — drawn from interviews with all the key players — has been rehabilitated into the stuff of tabloid Greek tragedy. This is a bold film, especially in its leveraging of all that real-life contradiction to create something that shocks and delights us with its own stylistic wrongness. I, Tonya takes greater risks with the biopic genre than any other in recent memory, and it's remarkable how much of it lands upright. It's the triple axel of based-on-a-true-story movies. 
 
 As played magnificently by Margot Robbie, Tonya is a powerhouse athlete, a fragile abuse victim, an impoverished country girl and a snarky media critic. Robbie embodies all these roles with a childlike sincerity, a lost-soul cluelessness, as her Tonya never ceases to wonder why it can't just be about the skating. She and the film whip among these personas with wild abandon, mixing styles and tones in a chaotic fashion that borders on overkill. (Must we indulge "present-day" interviews, voice-over AND talking directly to the camera?) But it all builds to a satisfying and illuminating portrait of a poor American girl who maybe never stood a chance. 
 
 The film's account of Harding's upbringing is so heartbreaking that it would be unbearable if it weren't presented in such a bouncy, off-kilter way. As a child in Oregon, she was practically shoved onto the ice by her waitress mother LaVona (a superb Allison Janney), partially because her mom sees talent but mostly because she is grooming Tonya for a future as the butt of her endless verbal and physical abuse. LaVona will hold the cost of Tonya's skating lessons over her head for the rest of her life, long after she compelled her daughter to drop out of school so she can focus on the sport. 
 
 Most of the film is devoted to Tonya's marriage to, and subsequent divorce from, Jeff Gillooly (Sebastian Stan). Although the Jeff in the "present day" sequences is muted and introspective, offering deep insights into how his decisions would go on to shape the culture, in the rest of the film, he is an abusive leech, incapable of offering anything to Tonya except psychological obsession as she climbs the ranks of U.S. Figure Skating. Their tumultuous relationship is marked by the cycle of Jeff's abuse (he hits her at home and later threatens her at gunpoint) followed by his blubbering, shameless apologies and Tonya's continued gravitation to him even after leaving him and filing a restraining order. Even these scenes, which are brutal enough to watch without the pop songs that punctuate them like thunderclaps, don't come close to reaching the real-life Harding's accounts of what Gillooly did to her. But abuse is complex, particularly if you live a sheltered, scrutinized existence, and one of the big strengths of I, Tonya is how it refuses to make its hero into a sap or her abusers into mere monsters. If they were, we wouldn't feel as affected by a moving (if a bit showoffy) long take of a post-divorce Jeff in various mopey positions around the house, inhabiting Tonya's negative space. 
 
 The film abruptly shifts gears into full-blown farce as we approach what everyone on screen refers to as "the incident": the attack that created the inescapable digital-video image of the innocent, white-dressed Kerrigan clutching her knee and wailing, "Why? Why?" Gillespie and screenwriter Steven Rogers know an inept hit job when they see one, and they milk this conspiracy of dunces for all it's worth. It's all orchestrated by Jeff's buddy and self-proclaimed Tonya bodyguard Shawn Eckhardt (Paul Hauser, champion goober), who mimes criminal-mastermind behavior from inside his mom's basement; his "guys" get hyped for their job by blasting "Gloria"; and when it's all over and Shawn has blown his own cover, he insists to a TV reporter that he has training in "counterespionage and counterterrorism," despite all evidence to the contrary. 
 
 I, Tonya gets mushy on the question of exactly how much knowledge Tonya had of the incident, which is consistent with the intrigue that has surrounded this sordid saga ever since. But it takes the extra step of insisting the real culprits are us, the basic-cable mouth-droolers who hoovered up her every mistake because we love to watch train wrecks on ice. In fact, Tonya shames us right to our faces, an accusation we might take more seriously if the movie didn't seem to be trying so hard to reconnect with whatever electric qualities first hooked America on her story. Still, for as jolting an experience as watching the film can be, it does help Tonya live her truth, while revealing, from within all its wrongs, the basic truth of figure skating: It has never just been about the skating. ||||| (CNN) "I, Tonya" announces up front that it's based on "irony free, wildly contradictory" interviews with the participants, yielding a darkly satiric comedy with the tenor of a Coen brothers movie. Elevated by Margot Robbie and Allison Janney's shimmering performances, this entertaining account of those strange events earns the sort of high marks for creative interpretation that its protagonist complained eluded her. 
 
 That protagonist, of course, is Tonya Harding, the figure skater etched into the public consciousness by her association with one of the strangest modern scandals -- namely, her husband Jeff Gillooly (Sebastian Stan) participating in a plot to kneecap her principal rival, Nancy Kerrigan, prior to the 1994 Olympics. 
 
 The movie, however -- directed by Craig Gillespie ("Lars and the Real Girl"), and drawn by screenwriter Steven Rogers in part from his interviews with Harding and Gillooly -- goes well beyond "The Incident," as its principals call it, to focus on Harding's abusive, hardscrabble upbringing, segueing from life with her abusive mother LaVona (Janney) to her abusive boyfriend-then-husband Gillooly. 
 
 Featuring the characters in direct-to-camera interviews, a strong undercurrent to the film is that Harding's downfall preceded several others of the tabloid-friendly 1990s, so much so that a "Hard Copy" reporter (played by Bobby Cannavale) is among the witnesses, wryly noting that the show was dismissed as trash by a media ecosystem that later mastered copying its sordid bag of tricks. 
 
 Janney pretty nearly steals the show as Tonya's foul-mouthed, chain-smoking mother, who constantly gripes about how she's squandering her limited resources on skating lessons and coaching for a girl, she's told, who "stands out because she looks like she chops wood every morning." 
 
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– You may think you know Tonya Harding, the US figure skater whose career was ruined when she was associated with an attack on her rival, Nancy Kerrigan, ahead of the 1994 US Figure Skating Championships. But Craig Gillespie's I, Tonya might convince you otherwise. Presented as a faux documentary, the film starring Margot Robbie has a 90% rating from critics on Rotten Tomatoes. Here's what they're saying: "I, Tonya takes greater risks with the biopic genre than any other in recent memory, and it's remarkable how much of it lands upright. It's the triple axel of based-on-true-story movies," writes Andrew Lapin at NPR. Robbie "magnificently" embodies Harding with "a childlike sincerity, a lost-soul cluelessness," he writes. This, and the film's chaotic mix of personas and styles, "builds to a satisfying and illuminating portrait of a poor American girl who maybe never stood a chance." "There's something genuinely electric about the narrative's headlong tumble into madness," coming from "a script where the truth was irrefutably stranger than any fiction," writes Leah Greenblatt at Entertainment Weekly. She found the skating scenes "thrilling." But "Robbie is the real revelation," Greenblatt writes. "She's a powerhouse: a scrappy, defiant subversion of the American dream. You won't just find yourself rooting for this crazy kid; you might even fall a little bit in love." It's "a darkly satiric comedy with the tenor of a Coen brothers movie" and "earns the sort of high marks for creative interpretation that its protagonist complained eluded her," writes Brian Lowry at CNN. But he argues "the sleight of hand used to realize the skating sequences is visually distracting in places." He also says Robbie "struggles" at the start to truly come across as just 15. And though she recovers to deliver "a layered and unexpectedly sympathetic portrait," Allison Janney, playing Harding's mother, "pretty nearly steals the show." Christy Lemire is effusive: Robbie gives "the performance of a lifetime," conveying "the requisite swagger of an athlete at the top of her sport" as well as the "low sense of self-worth buried underneath." As for the film itself, it highlights Harding's outsider status from the outset, which "makes her story relatable beyond the insular world of figure skating," Lemire writes at RogerEbert.com. She concludes by calling I, Tonya a "nearly flawless program" and "one of the year's best films."