The Bronze

The Bronze wields only one tool in its comedic arsenal: brute force. Starting with a sitcom pitch—“America’s Sweetheart as a foul-mouthed egomaniac”—director Bryan Buckley and star Melissa Rauch (known for, appropriately, sitcom The Big Bang Theory) drag the meager idea kicking and screaming to feature length. The movie is designed as a showcase for Rauch, who co-wrote the screenplay with husband Winston Rauch, but her character, a washed-up gymnast anti-hero who stomps and sulks and does plenty of things to make you cringe, is too shrill to earn more than a sporadic laugh, and too simple to prop up a movie. You’ll certainly pay attention to her, what with a thick Midwest-multiplied-by-20 accent and proclivity toward elaborately compounded swear words, but her whole schtick becomes monotonous after about five minutes into the film.
Rauch plays Hope Greggory, who once upon a time won a bronze medal with the USA gymnastics team in heroic fashion, a moment that clearly mirrors Kerri Strug’s famous ankle-breaking vault in the 1996 Olympics. With her career over due to injury, Hope never set out to coach or do commentary, but instead sits at home, masturbating to VHS recordings of her past, eating junk food and stealing birthday card money from her mailman father’s (Gary Cole) delivery truck. Yet, despite being thoroughly unpleasant, Hope has maintained a sort of celebrity status in her hometown. Her name is on the welcome sign; she gets free milkshakes at the local diner—but that’s all threatened by a young gymnastics sensation named Maggie Townsend (Haley Lu Richardson).
Richardson plays Maggie with a boundless joy: Not only does she love life, but she loves Hope, her childhood idol. When Hope’s old trainer dies, Hope is the only one left to become Maggie’s trainer, doing her best to set up the young protégé to fail. The give-and-go between the characters, between the extremes of positivity and of negativity, provides some of the film’s most enjoyably funny dynamics, but that’s it: The joke goes no further. There’s no punchline.