Foulmouthed and faded

Credit where it’s due: The Bronze does not waste any time diving into how aggressively unpleasant former Olympic bronze medallist Hope Ann Gregory ( Melissa Rauch) really is. We open with her triumph at the 2004 Olympics, a Kerri Strugesque fighting- through- injury inspiration that earned her a spot on her small town’s welcome sign and free Sbarro for life.

It’s then abruptly revealed that Hope herself is using these highlights as a masturbatory aid; throw in the fact she also briefly interrupts this reverie to yell at her father ( Gary Cole) to make her lunch, and that’s about the sum total of her character. Well, that and a mouth that would turn the censored version of this movie into the world’s first Morse code comedy.

Rauch deserves some credit for going full- in on this one, and the movie’s not without some pretty inspired bitterness, but for the most part The Bronze is willing to coast on the assumption that you find aggressive unpleasantness hilarious.

If Hope herself was more than just a conglomeration of “outrageous” banter and little-princess entitlement, or maybe even if the movie was interested in anything but it’s next self-consciously foul one- liner, there’s potential here for a dark and twisted look at rural hero worship, fading glory and the underlying grossness of holding up teenagers as the ultimate symbol of womanhood.

As is, though, The Bronze isn’t so much dark as dismal, a turd polished so you can appreciate every crack and crevice in its shitty expanse.

Since coming in third on national television, Hope has spent her life berating her father and soaking up every freebie that came her way. Viewing other people as nothing but mirrors for her glory to reflect in — she promises a pair of guys at the town bar they can “f-- k her raw” because as a petite gymnast she stopped bleeding down there — she is cajoled into helping out the town’s next gymnastics protege, Maggie (Haley Lu Richardson), when her former coach leaves a suicide note promising her $ 500,000 if the pair can make it through the next Olympics.

The screwy bond between Hope and Maggie is the closest The Bronze really gets to getting below anyone’s skin. Hope is initially hateful, but then finds some purpose in that hate, especially when former lover and gold medallist Lance (Sebastian Stan) starts horning in on the potential champion. Maggie is utterly oblivious, taking Hope’s torrent of bitter dismissal as a coaching tactic/sisterly bond. This dynamic at least gives the endless parade of awfulness some balance, sorely lacking elsewhere.

Then comes what actually might be the movie’s best scene: a drunken hate- sex session between Lance and Hope. Taking full advantage of the gymnast’s repertoire to explore every configuration of sexual position, it’s surprising and creative, though still ultimately just a joke about how gross sex stuff is funny. The rest of the movie is about this simple, but never again matches this level of verve. Ω ½