Time to practice more GIFs! And what better way to do so than with my favorite over-the-top gay fairy godmother, Gareth Walker of Ministry of Sound fame.
Let me tell you a bit about Gareth. He appears in only a couple Ministry of Sound* titles, but he's been the choreographer for all or almost all of them. He is a fag hag's dream, or at least that's the persona he smartly adopts for his MOS workouts, which are largely targeted toward the 18-35 club girl set. His early titles, like "Pump It Up Dancemix," are totally ridiculous in their non-functional short skirt insistence on SEXINESS AT ALL TIMES!!! and a lot of the choreography is just a jumble of hair flips, chest pumps and hip wiggles. Sometimes I don't feel interested in playing his game at all, but sometimes it makes me feel fun and free in a delusionoid-pyscho-girl way. Here's a gif (GIF? does it have to be capitalized? i wanna look correct.) to illustrate my feelings on this subject:
"When in doubt, strut it out." This applies to MOS workouts as well as life. Gareth speaks the language of the nubile, glitter-lotioned party girl, and all his choreography is presented through the lens of her holy temple, The Club. Dance moves are based around club rituals, which Gareth illustrates with instructions like these:
I have a new favorite person, and it's this man: Khordadian.
Mohammad Khordadian is a hero. Of freedom of expression, of workout videos. An Iranian-born dancer, choreographer and teacher, his story is a real-life, Persian, non-overrated "Footloose," with himself as Kevin Bacon and the Islamic Republic of Iran as all the repressed bumpkins.
In fact, Khordadian's story is so much better than either the new or old "Footloose" in every conceivable way, (music, costumes, accents, villany, sexual orientation), that I think the comparison is unfair, albeit convenient, so I'm gonna drop it right now. This is a man who can wear outfits like that one up there, make videos like the ones below, and remain absolutely un-snarkable.
Khordadian didn't only dare to dance; he dared to make Persian dance workout videos. He was a taxi driver in Tehran before the 1979 Islamic Revolution. After that, he fled the country and became the first Iranian to form a Persian dance company outside Iran. He settled in Los Angeles, formed a dance studio and made the world's first Persian dance-instruction videos in Farsi. These videos are awesomely fun, even for an English speaker. The music is bitchin, the steps are easy to follow and Khordadian is eminently watchable.
VIDEO:"Clubland Work It Out," (2008, Universal Pictures UK) STYLE: Dance aerobics, dance, kickboxing and toning INTENSITY: Moderate to difficult STRUCTURE: 10-minute warm-up; 15 minutes of aerobics; 15-minute dance routine; 15 minutes of kickboxing; 15 minutes of floor exercises; 12-minute cool-down. About 80 minutes total. GIST: I LOVE THIS WORKOUT. That's it. But it's not available for purchase in the U.S. Wah wah.*
See this creature? Is she the second coming of Xanadu-vintage Olivia Newton-John? A Barbie brought to life?
This, friends, is Deanne Berry, the queen of Clubland. She's a supernova of the sassosphere who burned bright for several thrilling years in the mid- to late-aughts and, after some TV spots and an ill-fated attempt at a recording career, all but disappeared. Where she now roams nobody knows. Intrigue!
Today we're going to be talking about "Clubland Work It Out," which is, in my opinion, Deanne's most solid effort. Like all the Clubland videos, it's not available for purchase in the U.S. *If you buy it off Amazon.co.uk, it won't work on most American DVD players or computers, because it's coded with a different "region." There are ways around this, but they're long and maddening. I don't think I can legally tell you to download it from a file sharing site, but if you don't know how to download it from a file sharing site, you can find most of the workout in the links I provide below.
Ready? Ok!
Like Aphrodite rising from the foam of severed testes cast into the sea, she burst onto the scene a fully-formed workout goddess -- or at least she played one convincingly in the shamelessly lubed-up video for Eric Prydz's "Call On Me."
The video was a crazy gigantic hit across the pond -- one interviewer in a TV spot says she "captured the imagination of the country" -- and even though Berry was just a dancer, not an aerobics instructor, the UK music label Ministry of Sound invited her to host the next in their series of "Pump It Up!" workout videos. THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF, FOLKS.
So she rustled up some fitness certifications and did just that, bringing her Aussie looks (slammin tanned bod, toothy smile) and dancer's nuance (so much sassy hair-flipping!) to the workout video world. After another title with "Ministry of Sound," she jumped ship and moved over to Clubland, yet another UK house music label with a stake in the fitness video market. (WHY DON'T WE DO THIS IN AMERICA???)
That brings us to "Clubland Work It Out," a dizzyingly ludicrous display of quality dance aerobics, music video fantasizing and a whole lotta ass-cheek. Exhibit A (har har):
I just followed along with the first episode of "The Jack LaLanne Show" from 1959, (which you can watch on YouTube or at www.jacklalanne.com), and though I'm not sweating, I'm smiling. I'm also thinking about high-fructose corn syrup.
I'll explain that later. First, the good stuff:
LaLanne, founder of Trimnastics and the "Godfather of Fitness," was an impeccably-torsoed he-man everyman who invited himself into American living rooms and basically invented workout videos. For this, World of Sass owes him a great deal.
A bodybuilder and nutritionist at a time when "feeling the burn" meant "social disease," LaLanne was aware he was pushing a new concept. So he structured his half-hour TV broadcast with "Trimnastic" exercises the average housewife could do in her living room -- or while sitting down with a cigarette and a cocktail in hand -- interspersed with 1- to 2-minute-long morsels of wisdom, encouragement and self-promotion.
He was smart, this Jack LaLanne. (I'd like to start calling him Trimnasty, because was just that balling.) Trimnasty often starts out episodes by addressing the children inevitably left in front of the television set, asking the boys and girls to go get their mothers and "tell her that Jack LaLanne is waiting!" Sometimes, as a reward for doing his bidding, he shows them how he can "blow up" his muscle.
This guy is chock full o' plainspoken corniness like that. He wears a silhouette-hugging, waist-cinched jumpsuit and black ballet slippers. As he goes into an exercise, you know it's time to follow along by the jolly live organ accompaniment playing "Daisy Bell" or "That's Amore." When LaLanne tells the audience to take a deep breath, the organ gives a big wheeze to join in the exhale.
Seeing as at-home fitness as we know it was still in its infancy in the '50s, it makes sense that the program comes across to a modern audience almost as a kids' show. However, though the calorie-burning aspect of LaLanne's routines are mild by today's standards, they're full of classic moves you just can't argue with, many of them taken from ballet and basic calisthenics. Stationary leg and knee raises, relévés, hamstring curls and pedal kicks haven't gone anywhere; it's just the intensity and the soundtrack that's changed.
