Liked I, Tonya? Do yourself a favor and watch Bring It On

The redemptive Tonya Harding biopic and the 2000 teen comedy about competitive cheerleading are both acidic, socially conscious takes on the standard sports film.

I’ve officially hopped aboard the I, Tonya train. When I first heard that Margot Robbie had signed on to play Tonya Harding, I could not have cared less. I wasn’t even two years old when the Nancy Kerrigan “incident” went down and I only learned about the whole Harding-Kerrigan debacle when I watched a Seinfeld rerun as a teenager. But now, after seeing the film and learning more about Harding, Kerrigan, and the culture surrounding figure skating, I get why I, Tonya was so anticipated.

The film is the blackest of black comedy. It’s genuinely heartbreaking as well. And, like The People v. O.J. Simpson, it stresses that, while a crime was committed, there was a whole lot more to the story. It also breaks the fourth wall via its “interviews” with the characters, in a move that many have compared to Goodfellas.

There definitely are similarities between the two films, but personally, I believe I, Tonya has a lot more in common with Bring It On.

Femininity and irreverence collide

While I, Tonya is based on real events in the figure skating world, Bring It On is a fictional story about competitive high school cheerleading. The athletics are different, but both films achieve a very tricky balancing act: juxtaposing traditionally “feminine” sports with the kind of NSFW comedy and language you’d find in a Seth Rogen movie. I, Tonya and Bring It On play with our assumptions of how figure skaters and cheerleaders should behave. Seeing a sparkly costume-clad skater swear at a judge is shocking and catches us off guard — the same goes for witnessing an 18-year-old cheerleader verbally spar with a child.

The cognitive dissonance Bring It On and I, Tonya create partially contributes to the films’ causticity. The jokes are harsher, and land harder, because they come from such an unexpected place. You might not anticipate such vicious comedy from the world of cheering or figure skating, but that’s exactly why it works.

It’s not just about sports

Athletics are the foundation for I, Tonya and Bring It On, but not the end-all be-all. In fact, both films consider the bigger picture by acknowledging that sports are intersectional.

On merit alone, the insanely talented Tonya would have swept every competition. But turns out figure skating is about a lot more than actually skating. Judges also care about presentation, which means if you’re working class, you’re screwed. It’s not enough that I, Tonya‘s protagonist is the best skater: she also has to have the fur coat, the $5,000 costumes, and the “wholesome American family.” When a judge primly suggests Tonya find another sport to pursue, she’s really telling Tonya she’s trash. And, no matter how involved she was in the Kerrigan incident, Tonya’s treatment by the media has a lot to do with where she came from.

As for Bring It On, the film’s main conflict comes from the rivalry between two cheer squads: the suburban, predominantly white Rancho Carne Toros, and the inner city, predominantly black East Compton Clovers. Toros captain Torrance (Kirsten Dunst) discovers that her national championship-winning team has actually been stealing routines from the Clovers for years. No one ever knew or cared because the Clovers didn’t have the opportunity or resources to cheer in competition. “Every time we get some, here y’all come trying to steal it, and putting blonde hair on it and calling it something different,” Clovers captain Isis (Gabrielle Union) says as she gives Torrance a dressing-down. “We’ve had the best squad around for years, but no one’s been able to see what we can do.”

While the two films present different cases about how much social obstacles hinder athletes –unlike Tonya, the Clovers are ultimately triumphant — neither is afraid to take a critical look at the intersectionality of sports. Skating and cheerleading are influenced by money and racial dynamics, just like everything else.

Women athletes are pressured to be the best and so much more

Sports obviously aren’t impervious to gender norms, either. As such, it’s not enough for female athletes to be excel at their sport: they also need to be beautiful and sexy.

I, Tonya isn’t as explicit about this because, well, Margot Robbie is Margot Robbie. She’s an objectively stunning woman. However, the film does subtly echo the real Harding, who was known for making it in figure skating in spite of being plain. Like her real-life counterpart, Robbie’s Tonya has frizzy hair and heavy makeup.

Conversely, Bring It On doubles down on the topic, to the point where it’s a running joke. The Toros constantly make comments about each other’s appearance. A memorable scene sees their ridiculous choreographer, Sparky “Spirit Fingers” Polastri, criticizing the entire team’s looks. One girl has weak ankles, another’s butt is too big, one wears too much makeup, and another doesn’t wear enough. “One of your calves is bigger than the other,” he remarks to a young woman after a cursory glance.

As someone who is terrible at sports, I can’t imagine how hard it is to become a top professional athlete. And it must be 100 times harder when you’re also expected to have a flawless body and sex appeal to spare.

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Awards bait and teen movies from the early aughts don’t usually go hand in hand, but then again, I, Tonya isn’t your typical Oscar flick. It’s a form-pushing biographical tragicomedy, and yet its discussions about class and gender are as elegant as Tonya’s triple axels. That’s why the film is the true descendant of Bring It On. Between their social consciousness, biting humor, and focus on women’s sports, the two films are cut from the same cloth. So if you too are on the I, Tonya train, be sure to make a stop at Bring It On.

You can stream Bring It On on Netflix. I, Tonya is currently in theaters.