Review: I, Tonya

I, Tonya
I, Tonya is a great nostalgia trip, not just because of the cringeworthy nineties fashions, throwback tracks and hair disasters, but because it's a reminder of an analogue age when one simple celebrity scandal could dominate the entire news cycle for weeks and months on end. What a luxury that would be today: in the current climate, where world-shattering scandals materialise and evaporate in the blink of an eye, staying abreast of current affairs basically consists of putting a shotgun marked 'NEWS' in your mouth and pulling the trigger. The 90s white trash of I, Tonya does have something in common with the white trash of Trump's America: both are incredulous stories of idiots committing their crimes out in the open.

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