The wobbly home movies that open The Bronze chronicle how Hope was groomed for success. In 1992 she was a toddler already tumbling with confidence across the mats. In 1996 she was executing elaborate cartwheels under the direction of a Russian expatriate gymnastics coach. In the 2003 footage dad proudly proclaimed her as a “future champion.” In 2004 she was with the U.S. team at the Rome Olympics. Slipping, she lost her grip on the gold medal, earned the bronze instead and suffered a career-ending injury. Time has passed. Hope still lives in her dad’s basement, surrounded by trophies and memories. She would be sad if she wasn’t such a nasty piece of work.
A comedy of thwarted ambitions turned bitter, The Bronze’s protagonist clings to nostalgia like a soiled security blanket. Melissa Rauch plays Hope and co-wrote the mordant screenplay about the spoiled product of a parentally engineered project to turn their little girl into a star.
Wearing nothing but her Olympic warm-up clothes and driving a rusty Buick whose custom plates read BRONZED, Hope is sharp-tongued and selfish. Armored with a flimsy sense of entitlement, she still receives free happy meals at the fast food outlet (for the fame she brought to her small town). She is mean and dismissive of the effusive star-struck high school gymnast, Maggie (Haley Lu Richardson), who wants to follow Hope’s path to the summer games. But when her former coach commits suicide and leaves Hope a fortune, life might begin to change. The mysterious legacy comes with a catch: Hope must coach Maggie until the young aspirant reaches the highest level. She regards coaching as beneath the dignity of her stardom, but with dad cancelling her allowance, Hope begins a journey that finds many twists in the road.
The Bronze’s setting is a schlubby corner of heartland America, the disappointed-looking town of Amherst, Ohio. Everyone is struggling a little to keep necks above the poverty line. At the shoe store Hope frequents, the “comfort specialist” (aka sales clerk) sells pot in the back room. Everything looks a bit worse for the wear. The Bronze’s screenplay strains too hard for humor where a lighter touch would have done nicely. And yet, this Sundance selection is good for casting a sardonic eye on fame and achievement. It comes to a conclusion that should be obvious: Dreams don’t always come true, but when they do, there can be a price.
Opens Friday, March 18 at the Oriental Theatre.
The Bronze
3 stars
Melissa Rauch
Haley Lu Richardson
Directed by Bryan Buckley
Rated R
