Super Cardio Bros. [Wii Fit REVIEW]
Posted by Chris Ward at 8:57 AM May 31, 2008
Ok, ok...so I realize this blog comes hot on the heels of Gary Hodges exclusive, hilarious interview with the guy who exploited his incredibly hot girlfriend for internet fame , and his unbelievable 5 Uses for the Wii Fit Board When You Quit Using it for Exercise,
but it's time to review Wii Fit! So check it out, ya'll.
Developer: Nintendo / ESRB Rating: E / Price: $89.99
Somebody forgot to tell Nintendo that “strenuous indoor exercise” doesn’t top anyone’s summer fun list.
Regardless, poor suckers are lining up in droves to snatch up Wii Fit, an exhausting personal trainer disguised as a fun video game. Me? I’ll be kicking back with Mario Kart Wii and eating Taquitos all summer. Why kid myself? Yes, there’s no denying Wii Fit and its Balance Board peripheral is an amazing new toy (think of it as an electronic yoga mat that senses the slightest directional movement you make, and even knows your true weight), but if the phrase “squat thrust” gave you nightmares before, Wii Fit’s not gonna change that. Those folks should keep their money for Pabst, pizza and more Pabst, lest they get sucked up in the Wii Fit hype and end up with a $90 Wii Doorstop 3 months later.
However, for those who are really serious about “maxing out their quads” or “doing elbow reps” (or whatever…I slept through Phys Ed), Wii Fit delivers all the workout of a Gold’s Gym with none of the fees and, more importantly, no geezer’s yambag on display in the change room.
Wii Fit starts with a weigh-in, checking your BMI (or body mass index) rather than shaming you with a pound-by-pound reading. For the ultra-shy, yes, you can password-protect your weight from being seen by others.
Next comes a basic balance check, to see how steady and centered your posture is. It’s like a field sobriety test from Mario. From there, the choices are yours as you map out a goal (“lose 10 pounds in 10 days!”) and start, well, “playing.” During Yoga, a robotic but tranquil-voiced virtual trainer—you choose either Charles McBeefcake or Ms. Bosoms Sexypants—guides you through various poses, such as the classic Downward-Facing Dog. You’ll soon discover when you relax your sphincter in the privacy of your own home, everybody wins.
Strength Training ups the intensity, complete with Leg Lifts and something called a “Jackknife,” which I dare not attempt in my lifetime. Thought Push-Ups were hard before? Try doing them when your sweaty hands are slipping all over a plastic board. Good luck, Tony Little wannabes!
Wii Fit lightens the workout mood during its Aerobics and Balance Games modes. Trick your kids into getting their heart rate up during a cutesy Ski Slalom, Tightrope Walk, hip-shaking Hula Hoop challenge and a Soccer ball head-butting game. More games (like Rhythm Boxing) are unlocked after over 3 ½ hours of play are logged, and considering most games last under 2 minutes, acquiring new content is a daunting physical challenge. So, if you guessed “this reviewer didn’t unlock Rhythm Boxing,” you are absolutely correct. I’m sure it’s wonderful.
The balance board is ditched altogether during one of the best activities, a simple jog through the park with your Mii avatar. A Wiimote in your pocket reads your steps and speed as you Forrest Gump your way through a scenic countryside. It’s reason enough to turn your neglected treadmill into a new Wii accessory.
In the end, Wii Fit looks slick, but can’t shake the fickle feel of past exercise fads the public is quick to embrace and then turn on in a corndog-fueled rampage. It’s telling that the American Wii balance board supports nearly 50 more pounds than its foreign counterparts. Games like Dance Dance Revolution and Rock Band’s drumming (not to mention Nintendo’s 1988 Power Pad running mat) already feel like they burn more calories with less fuss and stigma attached. And with no online support to motivate you (imagine a friendly Sit-Up contest with someone from Zanzibar!), you gotta ask yourself: Am I gonna drag this plastic board out every night and stick to my lonely virtual fitness regiment? If your answer is, “Probably not,” save your cash. If your answer is “Yes,” then congratulations: you are Chuck Norris.
Score: 7 (out of 10)
