Why Physical: 100 is the most intense – and unexpectedly fun – fitness show I’ve ever seen
Some of my Whatsapp chats are about to get very busy again, with heated discussions about lifting boulders and pulling ropes. Physical: 100the Korean fitness show that became an international phenomenon after being picked up by Netflix is back on our screens and I couldn’t be more excited.
The premise is simple and good content for perhaps the best streaming service out there: 100 participants are chosen by the producers based on skill or fame in the fitness world, ranging from rugby players and martial artists to bodybuilders, special forces reservists and emergency responders. service employees. Everyone, regardless of body type, gender or weight, faces the same series of physically demanding challenges, sometimes in teams and sometimes solo, until only one participant remains.
Physical competitions aren’t exactly new to reality TV, especially for anyone who’s been watching American gladiators or similar shows growing up. However, a few elements have been set Physical: 100 apart from the package; the grimy and dystopian aesthetic, for example, straight out Squid game. The general atmosphere is futuristic and industrial, but themed arenas define the game, ranging from beaches to jungles. It’s a bit like a fighting game where you can choose your battlefield, but you always return to the same serious menu screen.
Another highlight are the challenges: the games are often brutal and creative, ranging from deceptively simple (I audibly half-cackled when the first challenge of Season 2 was revealed: 100 manual treadmills, with each participant running at a certain speed for as long as possible to the complex. Having tried many of the best treadmills over the years, I knew exactly what to expect: a whole world of pain, especially the heavier athletes.
Another memorable challenge from Season 1 involved loading a wooden ship with heavy boxes and then working as a team to push it through the arena and up a wooden ramp. If you think it sounds difficult, watch them try, as the sweat pours from the participants as they drag a 1.5 ton boat up a ramp, without the aid of wheels, and watch as it bounces with every swell moves less and less.
But it’s the contestants who really make the show, and almost all of them are uniquely wholesome. As previously mentioned, all participants come from different training backgrounds: strongmen stand alongside cyclists in sprint tasks, while climbers compare their strength to Crossfitters. While one competitor might be good at moving heavy objects around an arena, another might run much longer, while another might jump six feet into the air onto a stack of crash mats.
They openly and vocally admire each other’s abilities during the intermission of the race, and all have great respect for each other’s disciplines, asking many questions about the less common disciplines, such as luge. There is certainly a lot of showboating, and each athlete doing their best to win, but it is not a show of domination. Doing your best to win is presented as a sign of respect for your opponent.
This is further compounded when successful Korean athletes participate in the games, such as last season’s veteran mixed martial artist Choo Sung-Hoon. He was cheered, bowed and shown much admiration by athletes who far surpassed him in many respects. When paired with another, younger martial artist who was busy stealing balls, the younger athlete bowed to Hoon and asked for a short sparring match before they focused on the ball, as his dream was to against the legend.
It was sweet, and I think anyone who has ever been a somewhat competitive athlete in any discipline understood how the younger athlete was feeling in that moment.
This is Physical: 100’s main hook: not the Hunger GamesWorld building in style, not the grueling athletic challenges, but the atmosphere of respect and camaraderie between rivals. It’s a beautiful, wholesome, poignant display of competitive spirit. Besides, there’s nothing like ordering a lot of takeout and critiquing a world-class athlete’s technique between sips of beer and bites of pepperoni pizza.