Series 9 - Week 6

So, traditionally I open up with a tried and tested formula of wishing goodbye to [insert losing couple here]. Followed by: [insightful analysis of dance ability] + [opinion on fairness of departure]. HOWEVER, this week, I'm dispensing with convention, because, frankly, first and foremost, we need to talk about J-Grey.

WHAT WAS THAT?!

SERIOUSLY, WHAT WAS THAT?!!

No, but REALLY?

WHAT WAS THAT?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I could go on like this for some time.)

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine Jennifer Grey would be such a terrible, terrible judge. I tried to approach her appearance with an open mind (I said *tried*) and after her mini-interview on It Takes Two, I even thought she seemed sweet and chatty enough, which is a pre-requisite of sorts, but then the live show hit and no. No no no. Of all the things the Strictly producers have done, this was probably the greatest waste of time and licence fee.

For starters, *deep breath* (cause you KNOW I'm about to go on at length) J-Grey is NOT EVEN THAT FAMOUS - and yet that seemed play a big part in the sycophancy surrounding her attendance. Oh pleeeeeeease, American person who's been in films and on the telly in America, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease come and be on our lowly little British dance show, even though you'll make it a whole lot more RUBBISH. BAH! The fame test is simple – will my dad have heard of Jennifer Grey? Answer: no, my dad has not heard of Jennifer Grey. Ergo, NOT THAT FAMOUS.

In fact, let's examine her career, shall we? Her most recent claim to fame? Winning the American Strictly (hmmmm, a former celeb winner on the panel, let's see, what's the previous success rate on that?). And her past glories? A nose job, a supporting part in the excellent Ferris Bueller (in which, I'll admit, she was ace) and, of course, a quality turn as water-melon-carrying Baby in Dirty Dancing, which YES, is a film about dancing, but, as I remember, the whole point of her character was that SHE WASN'T A PROFESSIONAL DANCER. SURELY, this suggests she might not be best qualified to COMMENT ON DANCE.

And what else has she done? Go on, tell me without recourse to Wikipedia or IMDB? *waits* EXACTLY. NOT THAT FAMOUS.

Look, J-Grey seems nice (really nice), so I don't want this to seem personal, but there were just so many reasons why she had no place on that panel.

1. Inadequate ballroom CV. (We've just discussed credentials. I don't propose to revisit that element.)

2. Distinct lack of critical analysis, even constructive criticism. (I imagine it probably is quite hard to be mean to someone's face – hide behind a blog, say I - but surely critiquing is the whole purpose of a judge? Even Alesha manages it these days.) 

3. Inappropriate and CONSTANT use of the 8 paddle. (8 FOR LULU?!? Cereals?! Was J-Grey hoping flattery would get her better botox connections...?)

4. Inappropriate and inconstant use of the 7 paddle. (8 for Lulu, yet only 7 FOR RUSSELL? There aren't enough exclamation marks. That paso was a TRIUMPH!)

5. Overt reliance on pre-scripted comments (yes, am sure all the judges jot down a good line or two – Len's pickled walnuts, for example - but you don't show it! Though whoever wrote them – I'd imagine it wasn't J-Grey - kudos on the 'Audley entertaining' pun).

6. Truly appalling delivery. (Errr, once more with feeling, Jennifer? Just awful. If they'd known she was going to blatantly just read it all, couldn't they have given her an autocue? Hell, she's an ACTRESS – couldn't she have learnt the lines in advance, seeing as she was going to use them whether they bore any reflection to the performance or not...)

7. The waste. Oh dear God the waste. Just think - it could have been Karen Hardy on that panel. YES, KAREN HARDY. IMAGINE! Sure, they'd locked her in the red button broom cabinet with Martin Offiah, but they could have let her out for once. Or they could have Camilla on, or Ian Waite, or Lilia, or flippin' Arlene, or (God help us) Darcey 'sexy pahhty' Bussell. Or EVEN (and I do NOT say this lightly) BLOODY ANTON.

YES. EVEN ANTON WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER.

*stunned silence*

You know it's true. Even though I feel dirty (dancing) for having said it.

Anyway. I think I've said enough. Rant over. (I did love her earrings though. And her turn and wink on Jen's Lens – that was funny. But as a judge - TERRIBLE.)

And to business: bye bye Lulu. You weren't really very good at ballroom dancing and hadn't really improved much since week 1, but we did all marvel at your youthful face every week. You bravely wore those hideous purple culottes (seriously, why not make them a skirt?) to tango, and did your best, but you knew it was your time... I think that's why she did her trademark 'WWWWEEEEELLLLLLL' when she was interviewed in the Tesspit - playing her joker as a last ditch attempt to garner some votes. I don't blame her, but there's only so much Brendan-led shunting we can take (one week more than Anton-led shunting apparently) and so off Lulu goes, with not even Jason Orange to comfort her, as he's now going out with Catherine Tate apparently.

It's my mum who had Lulu in the sweepstake, and she won't miss her £1, as she hasn't actually given me any money yet. (I can't really complain, I haven't exactly been short-changed by my parents over the years.)

As for Audley Entertaining, as he will henceforth be known, I think he's probably survived his last Bottom Two, and I suspect he'll be out next week (which is a fair few more weeks longer than I was first expecting). Although you never know - we haven't had a shock exit yet... I love that he looks so happy on the dance floor, but favourite thing about Audalie's performance this week was the ridiculous bridge prop, wheeled in purely and simply to illustrate the first lyric of the Avril Levigne song they were dancing to; as Dave Arch and his wonderful orchestra sang “I'm standing on a BRIDGE”, Natbot LITERALLY stood on a bridge. Amazing work.

Slightly less amazing work from the two front running males, however. Harry v Jason. Samba v rumba. Both notoriously difficult dances, especially for a male celeb, as they have to avoid making mince of all that hip action, and look manly whilst undulating and pouting. I'll be honest, Jason struggled. BUT it was a RUMBA! It's PDA in dance form! The best bit was actually Kristina's face afterwards - she looked like she was going to kill all four of the judges and the only thing stopping her was that she couldn't decide which judge to go for first.

So I think Harry won it this week with his man-samba, which wasn't fab-u-lous, but was good enough. Again though, my favourite bit was female-pro's-face-at-panel - I chuckled heartily at Aliona's barely concealed fury that everyone was commenting on Harry and his chiffon-covered nipples, even though the concept of her samba was supposed to be 'Look At Sexy Aliona As She Shimmies Around Her Male Celeb'. Mind you, that is the concept of all her dances.

Aliona had better get used to being second fiddle in the flesh stakes (that sounded a bit dodgier than I intended), especially now that Robin is obviously lending out his favourite tops to Harry – I only pray Robin gets the yellow feather waistcoat back for when he and Anita do their samba. Not that I'm complaining about Dobbin's Charleston costumes – yes, Robin's shiny pinky shirt had limited pecs appeal, but frankly that dance was all about Anita's backless flapper dress. Wowsers. Basically I want one and I want it now. NOW. NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW TODDLER TANTRUM LEVELS OF NOW. Just gorgeous.

Also gorgeous (and also to be made immediately available for the Strictlycad wardrobe please), Alex's peacock blue dress with mustard underskirt. Loved it. Best swishy skirt of the series, even if it did catch her heel. If I had been wearing that dress, I'd have been all 'sod the quickstep James, I'm just going to run into the middle of that dance floor and spin around in a circle for 90 seconds, squealing “look at my dress swish – weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”'. I actually think the judges were also distracted by skirt swish – they were very kind to Alex. It was a sweet enough performance, but I'm fairly sure there was gapping (CHECK OUT MY TECHNICAL KNOW HOW), a smattering of stumbles, and – oh yes - they fell over at the end. They still worked it though.

I thought Ola and Robbie also worked their waltz well enough – sure, it was boring, but waltzes ARE boring. (Walzes are boring, rumbas are embarrassing, pasos are AWESOME. That is the rule.) It was nothing special and nothing terrible, though I'm enjoying Robbie's indignation on Twitter about Craig giving them a 6 – errr, hardly controversial. As for Ola's Barbie ballgown (stolen from an actual Barbie), well for the avoidance of doubt, I'm happy with just Anita and Alex's dress and will pass on Ola's outfit this week. I'm not four.

Four year olds will certainly agree with me on the dance of the night, though - Russell's paso. AWESOME. If I have one criticism, it's that the NHS specs were unnecessary. Beyond that I have nothing to add. It speaks for itself. Up there with the Sergeant. Hell, BETTER than the Sergeant.

A tough act, then, for our Chelsehh to follow, especially after her confidence took a knock after her “wardrobe male-founk-shon”, as she so sweetly put it. But she was aces. Even though she's always been good at dance, Chelsee's turning out to be the one with the jourrrrney, as her makeunderisation continues and middle England picks up the Daily Mail with a little less vitriol, happy with her smoother acrylic hair and her boobs neatly tucked away (we all noticed Chelsee's higher neckline this week, right – talk about the elephant in the room).

It was actually Holly who suffered a wardrobe male-founk-shon, as one of her braces popped off. Not that it phased her – I don't think anything would. Too cool – which is almost a problem. I wasn't out and out wowed by their jive, but it was good and funky. Though I was impressed by Artem's pain threshold – he looked in serious pain on the Sunday show. (Another year, another sex injury?) I'm just not sure whether to be a little relieved or a little sad that their matching costumes were basically the same and that they didn't try to 'feminise' Holly's version with a puffball pinstipe mini-skirt or a red bra under her jacket. Obviously that would have been tacky as hell, but... Well you can decide if that would have been a good or a bad thing.

Talking of terrible outfits, La Daly... Another Saturday, another bout of TessDressMess – it was the flesh eating lacy sleeves that pushed me over the edge. And now she's found a bra that fits, it's the dress that doesn't - there's nothing wrong with going up a size, Tess! (It will, ironically, make you look slimmer.) Sunday's offering was a navy velvet mini dress with long studded arms and a slightly droopy décolletage, which speaks for itself really. Alesha wore a boob revealing, canary yellow, halter neck creation with crazy flowers attached to her neck. It was universally judged to be vile. I liked it. Moving on...

As for Sunday half-time 'entertainment' – I use that word VERY loosely – well, just when having suffered Westlife felt like torture enough, on came Bruce to sing. Awful. Fortunately Erin also came on wearing Chelsee's usual hair and all the Strictly boas, which distracted us nicely. The boys v. girls pro dance was business as usual – the girls went for gyrations in chiffon and the boys for sexy grimaces in shiny trousers – an error, boys, homoerotism is ALWAYS the way. Bare chests and moustaches next time, please.

Am now off on holiday, so will be missing TWO Strictly weekends in a row – unbelievable really. (I'm having second thoughts, frankly.) I'll no doubt blog them both up when I'm back, but in the meantime, please look out for Jason - he's vulnerable after rumba trauma. He's worth a £13 profit to me, so it's very important.  I know I can trust you.  Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep yadda yadda.