We follow six such devotees in what is ultimately an affectionate look at these men. We see J-F work out and undergo a weird massage and depilatory session that involves medieval torture implements and looks like agony. In contrast, we see Ronald Yang in his home, first in his garage posing clumsily for a series of selfies and then with his family eating and discussing his training. In an extraordinary scene, he chows down while watching a video on his laptop.
His face and muscles bulging it looks for a moment like he might be trying not to vomit. Tears spring into his eyes and it becomes clear he is in the grip of a strong emotion. But for what reason is left totally unknown.
Was it a personal tragedy or was he watching the end of The Champ? The most loquacious is Benoit Lapierre, a veteran who has retired to concentrate on training, with a mix of professional know how and New Age mumbo-jumbo. A young frankly quite scrawny specimen, he contends with his girlfriend who he tries to get interested in bodybuilding without much success.
At least they have a common interest in that they both obviously love his body. The deeply engaged narcissism and the exaggerated masculinity leads to many paradoxes, one of which is how nakedly vulnerable these men are. They look different from everyone else but whether this difference is excellence or freakishness is an open question.
And which also has the result of undermining any empathy we might feel. Are they friends? Do they know each other outside of the film?
