REVIEW: Missing 'Missing Richard Simmons'
Nearly a decade after Dan Taberski's Missing Richard Simmons first asked the world where its brightest fitness star had gone, a review of the podcast that helped invent true-crime infotainment—and of the public's complicity in turning a man's right to disappear into a cultural obsession. On parasocial friendship, the ethics of documentary mystery, and why the legacy of Richard Simmons has been swallowed by the very mystery he refused to solve.
f you've checked out my [podroll](https://brennan.day), then it's no secret I'm a fan of podcasts. And it's absurd that I haven't reviewed one at length yet, so let's do that today.
It's been nearly ten years since I was standing at the Dalhousie bus loop, waiting for my transit to work when I saw the first episode of Dan Taberski's debut podcast drop on a cold February afternoon. *"Missing Richard Simmons, Episode One: 'Where's Richard?'"* The premiere of a six-episode series produced by Pineapple Street Media, released under the [Headlong](https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/headlong-missing-richard-simmons/id1203092300) banner.
What followed over the course of the next six weeks was one of the most interesting, morally dubious podcasts produced. Taberski dedicated himself to investigating why exactly beloved, flamboyant fitness instructor Richard Simmons decided to suddenly retire in 2014. Because, when Simmons did this, he also stopped teaching his exercise classes at his gym and cut ties with his fans and friends, one being Taberski—a former *Daily Show* producer who'd been a regular in Simmons' Beverly Hills studio himself.
While the series was created in good faith by a concerned fan, it was clear from the onset that there wasn't going to be any easy answers.
On one hand, you had the betrayal and hurt of dozens, if not hundreds, of fans of Simmons. For he was not merely a fitness instructor, but rather someone who allowed parasocial relationships to develop into sincere, deep friendships. Some of the attendees of his exercise classes (named the lovable pun "Slimmons") had been exercising under the teaching of Simmons for decades. He led the class in his Beverly Hills studio three times a week since 1974. And one day, unceremoniously, on February 15, 2014, he closed up shop and nobody ever heard from him again.
On the other hand, you had a man that had given all of himself to the public for decades. Simmons was a lovable actor and television personality since the 60s, later parlaying a recurring role on *General Hospital* and the Emmy-winning *Richard Simmons Show* into a fitness empire built on the *Sweatin' to the Oldies* video series. 65 videos in all, selling more than 20 million copies over his career, according to [Deadline](https://deadline.com/2024/08/richard-simmons-cause-of-death-1236046400/). He worked tirelessly up until his sudden retirement, a constant presence on Letterman and Howard Stern, in commercials for Sprint, Yoplait, and a self-parodying Geico spot. If he wanted to retire, that was more than his right. And if he didn't want to explain himself to anybody, surely that would be his right as well.
And this tension and struggle is what birthed the podcast itself. With Taberski turning over every possible stone to get
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