I am both fascinated and repelled by the trainwrecky goodness that is Celebrity Fit Club. If you don’t know the series, here’s a brief synopsis: it’s a weight-loss contest in which a bunch of overweight has-been or B-list celebrities form teams and compete in various fitness-related challenges, with the team losing the most weight overall winning at the end. The show is structured around a ridiculously solemn weigh-in ceremony in an over-the-top gothic mansion in LA, with a panel of “experts” (a diet doctor, a psychologist, and a drill instructor) and an annoying host with a bad hairpiece. Each celebrity goes before the panel and steps onto a huge honkin’ light-up scale, where the diet doctor tells them what they weighed last week, what their goal was, and then the current weight. Then the other panel members have a crack at the celeb, who often respond with displays of ego and overinflated senses of their actual fame level. At some point, there’s a flashback with each one to something that went on the prior week, such as a fitness challenge, individual workout, therapy session or medical visit. Someone cries. Then, at the end, the two teams get onto a giant scales and this week’s winner is determined.
It’s an utterly vile show, especially in terms of the message it sends by calling it Celebrity “Fit” Club but making it all about weight loss. And yet, I can’t look away. As hard as the producers and the “experts” try to make it trite and exploitative (such as, oh, when Jeff Conaway had to drop out of the competition because he was such a trainwreck that he wound up in the ER and then rehab, but not before he drunkenly ranted about how he was on Taxi and in Grease, dammit, and don’t think you’re better than he is) and to try to wedge each person into a specific, oh-so-pat narrative (Gunnar’s mom is a drunk! Chastity has to live up to having Cher for a mom! Don’t hate Kelly because she’s beautiful!), sometimes a little light is generated among all the heat.
Chastity Bono and Kelly LeBrock are probably my favorites on this go-around (It’s Season 3; each previous season had a psycho drug addict, too — Daniel Baldwin and Willie Aames). Each is quite self-possessed, though in different ways, and each has been through a lot in their lives. Chastity, for instance, got through an addiction to prescription painkillers and Kelly survived abuse at the hands of her ex-husband, Steven Seagal. Each is putting herself out there and really trying hard despite the essential silliness of the show. And each seems to resist the narratives the show is trying to make for her and instead to make things work for herself.
The worst “expert” on the panel has to be the psychologist, who’s basically Psych Barbie. I realize it’s TV and all that, but come on. Can we get a little more complex than repeating each week that Chas was in her mother’s shadow and that Kelly was once valued almost solely for her body and sexuality?
This past week, for instance, Kelly said something very interesting that Psych Barbie didn’t follow up on. She said that being overweight (and she’s not that big, really, maybe a size 14 or so) was something of a relief, because for the first time, people started treating her like a human being instead of a piece of meat. Then Psych Barbie chirped something about, “Well, how does it feel to be getting sexy again?” and Kelly responded that she was starting to feel a bit obsessive about her weight, which she didn’t like. Aaaannnd — that was it. Psych Barbie handed her off to the drill sergeant, who just beamed at her because she gives her all.
First of all, fuck you sideways, Psych Barbie, for creating a false dichotomy between fat and sexy (and might I add, thin certainly doesn’t equal sexy for you. And you could stand to touch up your roots while I’m on it. And did I already cover “fuck you sideways”? Okay then). Second, why are you not addressing Kelly’s statements that she wants to lose weight, but she also wants to be sure that she doesn’t just become a piece of meat? Not even as lip service? Finally, HELLO, PSYCHOLOGIST, SHE SAID SHE WAS FEELING OBSESSIVE. Why are you just burbling about how great it is she’s losing weight when it’s clear she’s starting to feel more pressure to conform the closer she gets to her goal?
And then there’s Chastity, who I want to be my new best friend. She’s so cool. She gets up there and all Psych Barbie can talk about is how it must be such an ordeal to be fat when you have a famously beautiful and thin mother, and Chas just kind of looks like, well, no, I’ve accepted that I’m not like my mom, ‘kay? (Though this week, after they played the clips of her adorable girlfriend conspiring to wake her up for a series of surprise early-morning workouts, all Psych Barbie could say was, “How does it feel to have such good support?” Um, good? You went to school for this?) And Harvey the DI loves her even more than he loves Kelly, because Chas is so dedicated even though she’s not that athletic — he had them do a portion of an obstacle course that Marines do, and she almost gave up, but she held on and finished, even though she knew her team had already lost. She’s also very supportive of her team, having them over for water aerobics and being the only person who could deal with Conaway when he was having his meltdown.
So, yeah. It’s awful, but I love it in a sick, sick way.