A film which filtered through the fourth wall of Le Club Musculation and brought the weightlifting session to a halt was Jean Genet's The Balcony. The bull-necked crew-cutted butcher's shop owner who ran the gym said the film represented a bid at "penetrating the mythologies that cloak every regime of power." It was certainly a change from the Jerry Lewis comedies and repeats of the The Dambusters which were the usual film-going fare of the time. We ended up hanging up our dumb-bells and going into the Arty Little Cinema next door to watch the second half. We realised that the cinema screen was directly behind the wall mirror on to which some club members would cast the occasional narcissistic glance.
After the semi-professional weightlifters of Le Club Musculation had finished their bone-crushing work-outs an entire glass of milk (laced with a drop of brandy) and mixed with a couple of raw eggs would be knocked back in a couple of gulps. The squad would then head for home and polish off an under-done steak.
The Arty Little Cinema thrives even to this day, but sadly Le Club Musculation and the
celebrated paper-thin fourth wall are no more. In its place stands a newly-built block of luxury mock neo-Georgian apartments which serve as pied-a'-terres for former hedge fund managers who are lying low. What has not vanished is the distinctive Le Club Musculation demeanour and style, the eye-catching combination of shades, tee-shirts, jeans, light brown ultra-flexible shoes, and crew-cut hair styles that an still be seen in the finest training venues. These are the surface appearances of those who have ventured on to The Balcony of life and penetrates the secrets that lie beyond the Fourth Wall.