And she completes the look with bad hats that would have looked perfect on The Love Boat, the cheesy 1970/80s series in which faded stars play characters who have epiphanies thanks to words of wisdom from "Doc", the ship's doctor, and "Gopher", the ship's gopher.
Indeed, Viner-Usmanova would have been perfect on the show as a tyrannical diva, although any kind of redemptive storyline would have been tossed overboard by the woman herself.
I'm looking at my notes here and can't quite believe what they say. During the documentary, she tells Margarita Mamun, one of the great rhythmic gymnasts with a swag of Olympic and world gold medals, that she is "rubbish".
This is the nice stuff. Viner-Usmanova, powerful in Russia and feted by the IOC, would be turfed out of other nations' sports programmes for abusive behaviour.
She orders conflicted assistant coach Amina Zaripova to treat Mamun "like a dog — she's not human".
There is one very touching scene — although the camera is not allowed into the room — when Mamun is with her dying father.
Viner-Usmanova isn't one for tears though, and uses the concept of a dying father to draw more emotion out of Mamun's routines.
It is a revelation to see the now-retired Mamun's skill and grace emerging from a life of such exhaustion and apparent torment.
And it is a stunningly brilliant piece of work by the Polish director Marta Prus, the sporting highlight of my just-finished period of leave-in-lockdown.
Irina Viner-Usmanova with Russian president Vladimir Putin. Photo/ Getty
I wondered if, through great luck, Prus had happened upon Viner-Usmanova while trying to unravel how the successful Russian gymnastic programme worked.
No such luck. In an interview with the Eastern European Film Bulletin Prus indicated Irina Viner-Usmanova was always the real target, rather than Mamun's tough path to glory.
"I got really intrigued by her achievements, appearance and by the fact that she is married to the billionaire Alisher Usmanov," Prus said.
Prus spent years working her way into the inner circle, driven by the lure of filming such a fascinating character.
The filmmaker believes Viner-Usmanova's ruthless understanding of human nature meant she treated Mamun like a dog because it worked whereas other gymnasts needed different manipulation.
Does that justify the technique? It would be hard to mount a case in this age.
Viner-Usmanova makes Steve Hansen look like a cuddly bear on a chamomile drip, and she is irresistible to watch.
And while the vain coach doesn't dominate the screen time, moderate doses leave one heck of an impression.
Like many others I'm awaiting the ESPN documentary series on basketball legend Michael Jordan with great anticipation.
But it couldn't even hope to contain a figure so memorable as Viner-Usmanova.
