p class="TEXT_w_Indent">The night they skated, 126 million Americans watched on TV. Nearly half the households in America tuned in.
NBC relives all that on Sunday in ""Nancy & Tonya," which airs Sunday at 6 p.m. on Ch. 5.
Both women are interviewed. And Mary Carillo does a good job with each of them.
In the end, there are two inescapable conclusions:
First, Kerrigan comes off more sympathetically than, perhaps, she is remembered. Turns out the "ice princess" did not come from a background of privilege, as so many believed. And while she was perceived as being aloof and ungrateful, it was more about being shy and uncomfortable with all the attention.
Second, Harding comes off as, perhaps, less sympathetic than ever. If she's not lying, she's doing a very poor job of telling the truth.
And, as the documentary points out, there was evidence that she was involved with the plot to incapacitate Kerrigan.
At one point, she tells Carillo, "I proved my innocence."
When Carillo asks her how she did that, Harding can't come up with an answer.
Harding pleaded guilty to conspiring to hinder prosecution of the attackers. After an investigation, the USFSA banned her for life, concluding that she knew about the attack before it happened.
And yet Harding portrays herself as a victim. We see a clip of her supposedly apologizing to Kerrigan, but it's not an apology at all.
"Nancy & Tonya" is not just an indictment of Harding, however. What happened 20 years ago was a glimpse into what the media has become - obsessed with celebrity.
It's hard to argue with 1984 Olympic gold medalist Scott Hamilton when he says, "This may have changed skating a little bit, but to me it changed media forever."