Margot Robbie stars in the Tonya Harding biopic 'I, Tonya.'
I, Tonya is the movie people around the world are flocking to see this weekend. And they should. It's fun, cheeky and features Margot Robbie's best performance to date.
The raucous and fast-paced movie looks at the Tonya Harding/Nancy Kerrigan scandal through the eyes of its so-called villain — Harding — and where she came from. It sympathetically explains she was ostracised for her rough edges and working class background, and details the alleged abuse she suffered at the hands of her mother LaVona and her moustachioed husband Jeff Giloolly.
But it's hardly the full story.
I, Tonya has turned into the Tonya Harding comeback tour. Banned from ever skating competitively again in the aftermath of the 1994 attack against her rival, Harding became the punchline everyone thought she was, floating from a short-lived boxing career to working as a hardware salesperson to commentating on dumb videos. Somewhere in there was a sex tape.
There was no endorsement money and no love for the first American woman to complete a triple axel jump in competition. Only mockery.
Twenty-four years later it's a different story. Harding, now legally named Tonya Price after she married her third husband, is being feted.
While she's no one's paragon of virtue — she's a strong supporter of gun rights and Donald Trump, and she wants to fine journalists for asking about her past — did the Walmart-loving Harding deserve the villain tag?
Harding has maintained she didn't know about the attack beforehand though recently confessed that she had heard Giloolly and Shawn Eckhardt plotting to "take someone out".
Amid this Harding redemption arc is the other victim, a more victimy victim, if you will: Nancy Kerrigan. And she's miffed.
This image released by Neon shows Sebastian Stan as Jeff Gillooly, from left, Margot Robbie as Tonya Harding and Julianne Nicholson as Diane Rawlinson. Photo / AP.
Two weeks ago, after Harding's star turn at the Golden Globes, Kerrigan told The Boston Globe: "I haven't seen the movie, I'm just busy living my life. As you say, I was the victim. Like, that's my role in this whole thing. That's it."
Six weeks before the 1994 Winter OIympics in Lillehammer, Norway, then 24-year-old Kerrigan was in a practice session in Detroit when a stranger (later revealed as Shane Stant) strode up to her, carrying a retractable baton. He struck her hard on the knee and she collapsed. TV crews were milling around the arena and the immediate aftermath was broadcast around the world — Kerrigan on the ground in a white lace dress, clutching at her legs, wailing like a wounded animal and crying, "Why, why, why?"
Kerrigan barely features in I, Tonya. The actor who played Kerrigan, Caitlin Carver, was on screen for about two minutes in total and had exactly one line: "Why, why, why?".
By virtue of its name alone — I, Tonya — the movie didn't pay much care to Kerrigan. You won't find her story in the movie because by downplaying Kerrigan's presence and pain, the Harding redemption is a lot easier to buy into.
Before the incident, Kerrigan was polished and graceful off the ice as well as on — she was charming to the media and courted the public's adoration. Her popularity secured lucrative endorsement deals from Campbell's, Revlon and Reebok while Vera Wang designed her skating outfits.
The attack on Kerrigan on January 6, 1994 didn't "work" — either Stant didn't use enough force or deployed the wrong kind of weapon and or his aim was off. Kerrigan was heavily bruised and swollen but was able to recover in time and still win a silver medal in Lillehammer. Harding had a mediocre skate and came in eighth.
It was the perfect comeback story but the extra scrutiny on Kerrigan after the attack meant she was dragged into the backlash, an unwilling participant in a so-called catfight she didn't know she was a part of.
As early as the Olympics medal ceremony, the public started to turn on Kerrigan. While waiting for the Ukrainian gold medallist Oksana Baiul, Kerrigan was caught on a hot mic complaining Baiul was taking too long to get ready.
As recently as this month, Harding still characterised that moment as Kerrigan whining: "I thought that was rude of her."
Not long after the Olympics, Kerrigan was overheard during a parade at Disney World: "This is dumb. I hate it. This is the corniest thing I've ever done." The ice princess story turned into an ice queen one — cold, calculating and entitled.
Immediately, Kerrigan was accused of capitalising on her "victim status". She received death threats. She was called a "crybaby". The Washington Post asked if she was "a bitch" and said she risked becoming "the Shannen Doherty [TV's bad girl at the time] of the skating world". The LA Times said it was "easier and easier to dislike Kerrigan" while The Seattle Times wrote "the victim thing can only go so far".
Endorsement deals were axed and a movie project of her life was cancelled. Kerrigan never competitively skated again.
There was always a perception that Kerrigan, a Massachusetts native, came from a well-heeled background of East Coast elites. In reality, she was also from a working class family. Her father was a welder and worked several jobs to fund her skating. The difference was, by all accounts, her family was genuinely supportive.
Kerrigan faced her own family dramas in 2010 when her father died of a heart attack during a physical altercation with her brother Mark. Mark was arrested and charged with involuntary manslaughter — he was later convicted of assault and battery and sentenced to two and a half years in prison. Kerrigan and her mother have always maintained Mark wasn't responsible.
Kerrigan said she has never received a direct apology from Harding. There have been apologies along the lines of "I'm sorry it happened to her" or the 1998 TV sit-down between the two women when Harding awkwardly said she was sorry for "being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being around the wrong people".
Harding is clearly sick of being forced to show contrition for something she said she wasn't involved in. There are only two people left who know the truth of what Harding knew and when — Harding and Giloolly. Even Margot Robbie said she doesn't really know what happened.
Kerrigan married her former agent Jerry Solomon and had three kids. She appeared on Saturday Night Live, had a cameo in Blades of Glory and a Kardashian Christmas special, and produced a documentary on eating disorders in sports.
She skated in ice shows including an adaptation of Footloose, served as a correspondent during the Olympics and competed in Dancing with the Stars last year.
So while Kerrigan wasn't relegated to pariah status like Harding, the unprovoked attack on her still marred her legacy. She has two Olympic medals, was the 1993 US figure skating champion and won a bronze at the 1991 World Championship, but is still regarded by many as only famous because of the scandal.
In an interview last year with ABC News, Kerrigan said: "I worked hard for [my accomplishments]. Who in their right mind would ask to be attacked? I would never wish that on anyone. If I could change it, of course I would.
"I worked really hard for many years to get to the Olympics and I went and I performed well so that's something I would rather have stick out in my mind and remember than something so horrible."
