"Rhythmics" goes to Club Med

MOPE. Ha.

Alright, now that there's been some passably substantial posts around here, I can get back to what really matters: celebrating old Russian TV workouts! 

Yes, we are returning to "Rhythmics," light of my life and holy beacon of sass. 

Today, we're going to beach! 

The setting is a coastal Club Med-type spot, and we open in a discotheque with a DJ who is single-handedly keeping the international "Kung Fu Fighting" wave of the mid-'70s alive.

Watching him kick off the proceedings with great pomp up in his booth with his totally-ignored, probably-doing-all-the-work sidekick gets me every time.

Our presenter for this edition is saddled with an unfortunate hairdo and a scrolldown-fug romper, but what she lacks in sartorial grace she more than makes up for with attitude.

Watch her stop in the name of love with this hip-shaking warm-up move:

I hadn't done this one in a while -- I blame you, unflattering romper bottom -- but I pulled it up this morning, feeling very creaky from what turns out to have been a cold. By the time I got to this Marcia Brady move, though, I was all in:

After the disco warm-up it's time for some light jogging around the resort. The outfit situation improves immediately, and DJ Ninja gets to sing his big aerobic anthem. 

I love this part so. much. There are jump cuts to gnarly water sports, underwater chaise lounging, triumphant DJ fist pumping, and so much more.

They're playing chess (srsly).

Best possible non-emergency use of an exterior staircase

Even this total rando eating lunch gets a few seconds of screen time!

Then we settle in by the sea for some more dynamic stretching and beach-blanket ab work. It's good stuff! Just DON'T push yourself beyond your flexibility; these ladies are on another plane of mobility. If I'm shaky on a combination, I slow it down to a more reasonable pace.

 Yeah at this point I'm basically perving on these gals but I CAN'T STOP.

The floor exercises are very Malibu Barbie, like so . . . 

. . . but they're actually quality ab work! Plus, you get to revert to your nine-old-self pretending to be a mermaid splashing on a rock with waves crashing around you. 

Check out the girl on the sailboat, like la la laaaaa, kickin' it on this dude's boat...

 Once mermaid time is over, we get our lovely moments of zen, down by the seaside.

 Just some light synchro swimming

They really enjoy their back bends in this one. Prepare to feel very not-bendy.

And I'm out! "Rhythmics," you never disappoint.

Hi, Hanna

Here's Hanna. I just met her and don't know her story, but man can she rock a tan and a day-glo leotard.

Speaking of leotards, did you know that feminism killed them? 

Anyway, I want to get to know you more, Hanna. I find your semi-joyless delivery and loud sense of style intriguing. But it's the weekend, and it's gorgeous out, so I'll leave you in your dishwater-colored studio and check in with ya later.

Just watch out, though, because someone is definitely creeping on you in that plant. 

Are you gonna be ok by yourself?

Cool. Have a good weekend!

Jack LaLanne, Mother's Little Helper

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.