The story of Tonya Harding, the figure skater from a dirt-poor background whose husband tried to take out a rival before the Olympics is both famous, and retrospectively, a source of comedy: the film 'I, Tonya' portrayed her as determined, dumb and ignorant. The documentary allows us to see that she never was stupid, and that her rejection by the figure skating establishment was not just a matter of class and beauty, but related to the fact she was an unashamed athlete in a "sport" that is really nothing of the sort. But Harding's self-awareness is nonetheless limited: she still seems angry that she had to suffer for her husband's actions (and angry, not with him, but with others who judged her for them). And she also doesn't seem to fully understand that what makes the luckiest of athletes their fortunes is never just their athletic gifts. Regardless of the degree of her involvement in the attack (she was ultimately convicted of involvment in a cover-up), I don't begrudge her a happy life today; but there's a strange sense of victim-hood in how she seems to see herself.