Three stars. Rated R, for strong sexual content, graphic nudity, drug use and relentless profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.18.16
Redemption stories are as old as
novels themselves, as today’s readers of Jane Austen, Charles Dickens and
countless other authors can testify. There’s something tremendously satisfying
about following the adventures of flawed characters who eventually, finally
experience an epiphany, subsequently becoming better versions of themselves.
While this narrative form has
been equally popular on the big screen, recent examples have substituted the
traditional shortcomings — avarice, deceit, betrayal — with revolting levels of
vulgarity and malice. The protagonists in Tammy (Melissa McCarthy), Bad Words (Jason Bateman) and Trainwreck (Amy Schumer), among others, are social
pariahs to a degree that is breathtakingly inexcusable ... not to mention their
sporting potty-mouths that undoubtedly bring joy to giggling adolescents.
Which is, perhaps, an intriguing
social statement ... since such uncouth, infantile sensibilities now seem
perfectly acceptable to thirty- and fortysomethings.
(And current Republican
presidential candidates. But that’s another story.)
More critically, the balance has
been skewed. When we spend 92 percent of a film being horrified by our main
character’s relentlessly nasty behavior, is salvation even possible? And even
if a script arbitrarily insists on yes ... is it deserved?
The Bronze straddles a very
narrow vaulting horse. Some will argue, with complete justification, that the
film slips and lands with a thud on the wrong side of the mat. I’m inclined toward
feeble generosity, thanks to a couple of clever last-minute plot twists ... but
the viewing experience remains wincingly painful at times. Lots of times.
This Sundance Festival indie is a
pet project by actress Melissa Rauch, well recognized in her long-running role
as Bernadette Rostenkowski, on TV’s The Big Bang Theory. She and husband
Winston co-wrote the script; they also co-produced the film itself, in which
she stars. The result is — to say the least — light-years removed from her work
in Big Bang, and not for the faint of heart (or easily offended).
She plays Hope Ann Gregory, who
as a hard-working teenage gymnast became America’s sweetheart after bravely
performing at the 2004 Olympics, despite having ruptured an Achilles tendon.
The result: an unexpected and well-earned bronze medal. She returned home to a
hero’s welcome in the working-class town of Amherst, Ohio, determined to train
hard, re-ignite her career, and take a gold next time out.
But it wasn’t to be.
