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   The funniest, nastiest movie reviews anywhere.

The Bronze

Have you ever fucked a gymnast?  If not, I can't recommend it enough.  Seriously - bucket list.

A sex scene in which two champion gymnasts tumble, vault, 69 and pile-drive like they're going for gold in the Pornolympics is the only thing I can recommend about The Bronze.  The dude in the scene is Sebastian "Bach" Stan.  The chick is "Sweet" Melissa Rauch.

That's right, Nerdverse.  Get your lotion and tissues, magic wand or bullet, ready because Bernadette from The Big Bang Theory just brought her bodacious blouse bombshells out to play.

Rauch's character is Hope Annabelle Greggory, who won a bronze medal on a bum ankle back in 2004 and still milks it for free food, shoes, and celebrity treatment around her tiny Ohio hometown 12 years later.  She's gone from a can-do Kerri Strug to a drunk, druggie, slutbag Tonya Harding.

Another local gymnast threatens to outshine Hope, which gets her leotard in a twat-pinching twist, but after being promised $500,000 if she trains the new girl, Hope grudgingly agrees.  If you even have to wonder if Hope, who starts out trying to sabotage little Maggie Townsend (Haley Lu "Who?" Richardson), will warm up to her pupil and the notion of, golly gee, being a better person, do the gene pool a favor and chemically castrate yourself.

That The Bronze is going for a Bad Santa vibe is more obvious than a pube in your soup.  For the love of Mary Lou Retton!  It opens with Hope, surrounded by American flag pillows and sheets, flicking her clit as she watches her medal-winning moment.  The problem is that Rauch delivers every one of her lines with the exact same level of bitchy pissedoffitude.  There's no variation, no modulation.  Thornton's Willy Stokes changed things up and was even playful at times - you know, like a real human being.  That kept audiences laughing all the way through Bad Santa.   With The Bronze you'll be ready to pummel Hope's pommel out of the theater and down the street after about 20 minutes.

And this piece of Crap-aneci is nearly two fucking hours long!  One joke - really more like half a joke - stretched that far is a crime against humanity.  All they had to do was cut the completely shitperfluous romantic subplot about Hope "connecting with" Ben (Thomas "Malcolm In The" Middleditch), a twitchy doofus at the gym, and the running time would be closer to a forgivable 90 minutes.

But what do you expect when Rauch and her husband wrote the script she's starring in and hired a TV commercial director to helm it?  This is more of a vanity project than Trump's campaign.

The Bronze should never have made it past tryouts.

March 20, 2016