Urk. If any of those (allegedly) funniest home videos shows somehow
obtain footage of us going at this then they’ve snagged a whole season’s
worth of ‘entertainment’. So, we got sensible and brought our
super-fit, super-Zumbafied friend Tracey in to be our body double.
Suck on that, ‘boing!’ sound effect!
When first assailed by the Zumba infomercial, three words gathered
in our mind summarising the sensation – South American bootscooting.
Having now encountered it we realise it’s actually more involved – South
American bootscooting with other dance styles sticky-taped in.
Yep, there’s bits of meringue, cream, raspber... erm, hang on,
that’s pavlova. Ah, merengue, salsa (unghhh... nachos!), samba,
mambo, flamenco, rumba and even hip-hop and belly-dancing snatches
(settle!), all combined into routines accompanied by Latin-heavy
songs. Nail it and the instructor you’re mirroring will be green. Do
so-so and they’ll be amber. Fuck it up entirely and they’ll go red.
This all seems a trifle (yum!) contrary to the apparent aim of Zumba,
which is basically expressive freedom. Hmmmmm...
Tracey was impressed that Zumba Fitness uses official songs
featured in the classes she attends. We were impressed that when she
let loose there was a Latin explosion in our lounge room. So, after
enough sequentially-performed routines that'd have us requiring an
ambulance, the verdict was...? Not too bad, but...
The ‘but’ being the Kinectified menus, possibly thrown together hastily by some
shit-faced bloke the programmers met down the pub. They’re almost entirely
unintuitive, and make delving into any of the modes ranging from
learning various moves to timed workout routines (alone or online)
an abject chore.
Live with the execrable menus and Zumba Fitness is a passable alternative to
embarrassing public classes, or being stuck on a junkmail list
for eternity. Just beware of hidden cameras...