BodyBreak born out of breaking point
Fitness special designed to combat racism, Vinay Menon writes.
It’s weird to think racism was the reason Hal Johnson created “BodyBreak.”
You know what else is odd? Until this week, I didn’t realize he was Black. In this current climate, as everyone is on tenterhooks about race, don’t misunderstand that as colourblind ignorance.
But let’s go back to the late ’80s. I am infected with teenage angst and watch a lot of TV. As I flop on the family couch, munching Jos Louis cakes and pounding back Mountain Dew, Hal Johnson and Joanne McLeod randomly crash my scheduled programming every day with health and fitness tips.
That’s my working memory. “BodyBreak” was a series of wellness vignettes that were longer than commercials, but not long enough to have commercials.
The graphics, theme music and goofy banter were Velveeta-grade cheesy. You know how many times I tried one of those exercises? Zero. I could never get past the fact Hal & Joanne, as they are still known to generations of Canadians, were so shockingly upbeat. Just once I would’ve loved to see them kick a bike tire or drop an F-bomb.
But, no. They could’ve been hiking and extolling the virtues of calf-stretching when a mountain lion attacked and, as a smiling Hal wrestled the beast and got off a corny line with feline jaws clamped to his bleeding forearm — “I think this little guy just wanted a belly rub!” — Joanne would flash her own toothy grin and tell the cameras, “Until next time, keep fit and have fun!”
When you are a surly teen powered by empty calories, “BodyBreak” seemed to be the handiwork of Satan.
It existed inside an antiseptic parallel universe where race and sex did not exist. I didn’t see a Black man and a white woman in a relationship. I didn’t even know they were married until years later. There was never any hint of romance.
All I saw were two ridiculously cheerful dorks hell-bent on improving the health of Canadians, one exercise or breathing technique at a time.
Their skin could’ve been neon blue and I wouldn’t have noticed. Their smiles were that blinding. The show should’ve been called HappyBreak.
But as we learned this week from a video Johnson shared on YouTube, racial harmony was the reason he started “BodyBreak.” It was April, 1988, and he wanted to be a sports reporter. So he submitted his reel to TSN, was interviewed and hired one morning at 11 a.m. But by 2 p.m., he says, he received a followup call to say he was un-hired because the network brass concluded they already had “one Black reporter” and did not see the need for two. Truly revolting.
Now it’s June. Johnson is filming a commercial at Woodbine Racetrack with two other actors, a white man and woman. At one point, as they are rehearsing a “cheering” shot, the trio are hastily repositioned so that Johnson is no longer standing next to the white woman. Curious during a lunch break, he asks an assistant director why he was moved.
“‘Well, the client really didn’t want you next to the white girl because, you know, God forbid somebody might think you’re with the white girl,’ ” the assistant director told Johnson, laughing.
All of this is appalling. And TSN apologized this week for a “shameful part of our past.”
Racism is always horrific. But Johnson’s reaction to racism is fascinating. He didn’t freak out after TSN rescinded a job offer. He didn’t lose his cool when the director raised client concerns about telegraphing an interracial relationship. He just got obsessed with bringing people together. As he says now: “My dad had always told me, ‘Never get mad at something. Because when you get mad, you can’t find a solution to it.’ ”
The solution was “Body
Break,” a Trojan horse designed to “combat racism.” Remember when I said I had no clue he was Black? That is 100 per cent true. If as a teen, I was coerced into an unseemly game of “Guess That Race,” maybe I would’ve gone with Puerto Rican? Spanish? South Asian? Scandinavian? I don’t know!
Again, all I saw was a fitness dork who transcended race. Also, in 1998, how many Black men on TV had “Magnum P.I.” ’staches or casually blurted out things like “gosh golly”? Stereotypes be damned! Hal Johnson was a racial enigma!
But without the racism he experienced, it’s entirely possible he would’ve never met Joanne, which happened about a month after he was turned away from TSN.
Even the early pushback to “BodyBreak” — a program director who loved the concept nevertheless warned, “We don’t think the Canadian public is ready for a Black and white couple together” — only galvanized Johnson’s resolve to create content that would unite instead of divide. While focused on exercise, he was also improving Canadian minds.
Racism ignited a fire that started a career, long marriage and lucrative brand. He did not turn a blind-eye to racism. He stared it down.
But without that racism, Johnson might now be a sports reporter in the midst of a global pandemic in which there is no professional sport. Who knows, he might be managing a 24 Hour Fitness and married to a cranky gal named Karen. The point is Johnson just kept seeking solutions. The ultimate goal of “BodyBreak,” as he now says, was to enlighten Canadians on how we can “all can live, work and play together, regardless of our ability, disability or skin colour.” Truly amazing.
I used to think Hal Johnson was simply the most annoyingly chipper man on Canadian television. Now I know he was so much more.