Series 9 - Semi Final

WHAT A BLINDER!!!! Ye Gods – what a show!  And, for me, the right result for the final.  Alex’s departure at this stage was inevitable, of course – a forgone conclusion up against the four gladiators.  Even the judges hinted at it with their constant mantra of "You deserve to be in the semi-final, Alex" and its a blearing subtext: "You ain't gonna make the final, Alex.  I suppose we should commend Tess for resisting actually saying it out loud to Alex's face, as is her usual wont.

Still Alex was popular and in amongst another set of celebs, it's possible (well, not impossible) that she might have had a chance of making it - say, if there had been a less likeable and better dancer on the scene (*coughRickyNipplecough*).  But this series the audience doesn’t seem to have felt any obvious mass antagonism towards a particular member of the final five, and so it was dance ability that was genuinely being tested this time.  Because of that, I’d love to say that Alex went out on a total dance high, but I’m not sure she quite managed to pull out her finest performances - she looked a bit nervous and stiff during her waltz, although I imagine she was grateful that they at least cut her dress so that the puffy ballroom skirt was well off the floor and avoided heel catch danger. 

As for that salsa....  Um.  Er.  Ahem.  Well, I think I’ll first gloss over the random broom and sweeping at the start, in the same way that I attempted to ignore that eerie cheerleader James doll a few weeks back.  (Please stop being weird and experimental, James Jordan – no-one wants a repeat of Aliona’s wellies’n’birdwatching cha cha dud)  Though I will say this on the outfit: if you're opting for what looks like a flasher's mac, it's probably best to avoid a massive pink feather clump poking through the front slit (exactly level with one's lady area) and a fart-like clump of pink feathers peaking out the back.  Once her dress was revealed in full, I was rather taken with it (a bejewelled bodice and Nancy’s reincarnated boa hemming a flared skirt, what’s not to like?), but the salsa itself was less impressive, sadly.  It wasn't all bad - it was fun and fearless, as well as messy and erratic; think wedding disco at 3am.  And who doesn't love a wedding disco at 3am?  Indeed, it’s one of the few other occasions where you might be fortunate enough to hear to some Gloria Estefan (full name Gloria Maria Milagrosa Fajoardo Garcia de Estefan.  HELL YES - and let's not forget The Miami Sound Machine).  J-Lo ain't NOTHING on G-Fan.  

*interlude whilst Strictlycad scuttles off to listen to Dr Beat*

But not even Gloria could help her in the end - bye bye Alex.  Your departure has reduced my household’s sweepstake chances by 50%, but you were clearly the Most Improved Celeb and I’ve also been delighted to discover that you’re not the vapid dimwit I first thought (shame on me), but are a quirky, funny, adorable, lovely weirdo.  Well done.

Although Alex was always going to be out at this stage, after last week, and the Valance paso, I couldn't have called it between Holly and Jason.  After this week's Saturday show, however, and *that* Argentine Tango (more on that later, don’t you worry), I did think J-Don'd edge it.  Still, I didn’t discount Holly (and Justine's £1) until the votes were announced – that paso remains amazing, and any initial anti-pretty envy from a largely female audience dimmed rather quickly when she turned out to be nothing like the pop starlet cliché we might have imagined, but rather smart, cool and understated.

Mind you, not everyone got over their bitter seething jealousy of La Valance – never have I seen wardrobe devote such a consistent array of VILE to just one person.  And she just took it!  What a heroine! This week, against the odds, Holly coped admirably with that ‘challenging’ Spanx-less neon-scarlet lycra Argentine Tango dress, and didn't do a bad job of the dance, even though she looked a little like she'd rather stay sitting on that bar stool, with a cosmo in hand, than actually carry on tango-ing.  

However, nothing, but NOTHING, could have prepared me for Outfit # 2: those truly heinous high-waisted Charleston shorts. BEYOND HORRIBLE!!!!  JUST... WHY?!!  I could barely watch Holly's performance, as the cut of those shorts upset me so much.  Truly, they were worst thing I have ever seen on Strictly.  And that includes ALL of TessDressMess, the Gary Rhodes/Karen Hardy bum bongo, Ann Widdecombe and her discernable love for Anton, Erin's Fraggle Rock tango outfit, and Bruce.

If it hadn't been for those perplexing shorts of hideousness (which I’m sure explained why she didn’t really look as though she knew what she was doing), I think I'd probably have really enjoyed their modern charleston.  But as it was, my favourite bit was the end, when the shorts were safely hidden behind the decks and Artem couldn't get his headphones on.  Most chucklesome.

Also chucklesome – Donovan’s chest hair encased in salmon satin lycra and sequinned go faster flames; how very Pimp My Shirt.  I could not for the life of me spot his timing error (but if all four judges did, then I suppose I must concede that he was a little off), perhaps as I was too busy being impressed by the fact that I was watching a male middle-aged samba that DID NOT MAKE ME CRINGE!!!  Most incredible. 

Also incredible – Kristina: sporting big white disco hair, with a jewel-encrusted disco bra and giant pink disco frill, held together by hope, prayer and three strips of sequined knicker elastic.

And then... *deep breath* ...there was their Argentine Tango.

Which was, well... quite something, don’t you think?

Yes, me too...

You know, I've always found it a little odd that Alesha didn't show any outward signs of fancying Jason - even though she is the EXACT age to have experienced the same Scott Robinson twinges the rest of us did.  However, his Argentine Tango finally jogged her memory, and she twinged with the rest of us.  What a fantastic performance – building, brooding, tense, powerful, passionate, beautifully danced, beautifully choreographed, beautifully everything.  And what a way to deal with the last dance saloon!   If it had been directly up against Holly’s paso, then there might have been more of a fight, but as it was, I think there’d have been outrage if J-Don hadn’t made it through.  It was the dance of the series so far – and arguably, contraversially, up there with the Karen/Ramps Goldeneye AT.

Question: which outfit was more naked?  Kristina’s lace tango leotard or Aliona’s sailor bikini?  Either way, dads rejoice.  And was anyone even looking at Harry in his shiny navy outfit?  (YES, chorus Britain’s gays and gals.)  I did think Harry looked more like a pilot than a naval officer, but am sure the population of uniformdating.com were delighted either way.

There is no doubt that Harry is a truly excellent dancer (“drummer in 'has rhythm' shocker!”), but (don’t hate me) I wasn't entirely charmed by his charleston...  In a way, the charleston is a dance where being too able can sort of count against you - if you look too polished and taut (and if there's two words to describe Harry and Aliona...), then the jelly-legged quirk'n'gurn doesn't always shine through and it doesn’t feel so charleston-y.  (An exception would probably be Ali Bastian and her dislocated rubber-limbed, high kicks cracker.)  The charleston is a PERSONALITY! dance, and as sweetly charming as Harry is, he's not quite got the cheekiness of someone like Chris Hollins (BTW that's your cue to take another look at Cola's charleston - just wonderful) and for me Harry was too precise - though I loved the swing jazz bits where he threw Aliona around, and there's no doubt that he's the main contender to win.  His ballroom talent was clearly on show throughout his Viennese waltz, where he was essentially robbed of a 40, because Craig said one of his eyelashes was curled in a slightly wonky direction or something.  

But DEAR GOD!  I do find waltzes (Viennese or other) boring.  Even Aliona's gorgeous mint dress didn't hold my attention for long.

I quite liked Chelsee American Smooth dress too - wardrobe seem to be improving on bosom scaffolding, with the supportive sky blue gauze and sequined bra straps working a treat.  Although I thought Chelsee looked nervous and she had a wee wobble on that “splitty thing” (to quote Len) it was still a lovely performance - well done Chelsehhh!  (Mind you, it’s not the best dance I’ve ever seen to Time After Time – that honour is reserved for Romy, Michele and Sandy Frink (don't miss the amazing lift at 1.18).

As for her Pasha doble, I was with the judges - brilliant stuff!  And although the Twittersphere didn't much like Chelsee's paso, I bloody did – very exciting to watch and yay for our first 40!  Her dress was less of a triumph; all that criss cross detail on the dress just made me think of boxing gloves and wrestling boots – hardly the way to conjure up the bull fight and Latin ardour.

Although Chelsee’s sometimes struggled to portray some emotional states required by her dance (her failure to successfully pretend to fancy Pasha will forever remain a mystery), she showed genuinely excellent acting chops as a Groucho Marx handyman in her VT: ““Maintenance, come to check your lights, mate.”  HOW I LAUGHED!  Truly!   Although the VTs have been (fairly) slated, for being a cheesy, embarrassing, cringeworthy waste of time, I have to say there have been one or two GEMS which have tipped the balance for me.  Besides, let's look on the positive - that terrible Famous Five one had a real practical benefit: I fancied some halloumi and I have ample time to slice and fry it without missing anything of note.  It was delicious, thanks for asking.

Less delicious... oh indeed – TessDressMess time.  So having discovered the concept of bras that can happily wrangle one's breasts towards Pert City and don't let them hang south towards Midriff Village, Tess has clearly decided to start experimenting with her bra purchases - Holy Push-Up, Batman!  Corsetry in action.  From neck to mid thigh, Saturday's dress was fine, if booby, but of course, fine isn't good enough for Tess – not when awful is available!  And lo, she decided to hang a chiffon curtain around her waist. Mini skirt + see-through full length overskirt = just no.  That look (essentially a variation on the mullet dress) is as incomprehensible to me as jumpsuits; it looks awful and yet all the kids are doing it.  Seriously Tess, why not rip that chiffon off and just get your super lengthy, toned leggies out?  Is it cause you couldn't be arsed to shave?  If so, that's fine – may I suggest tights?

In fact, it was all a bit déjà vu on Sunday; the top looked fine (a million red sequins - very Strictly, very festive) and then the camera panned down and woah! a blood sequin flared maxi dress.  ARGH!  TOO MUCH!  A neat slice at the knee – that's all I ask, Tess!  (It’s too much to ask though, clearly.)

And then, well that was pretty much that – apart from a porny showdance and a chiffon-based variation on the maypole.  Oh and Natalie and Brendan trying SO HARD to be the best that I was convinced throughout that we’d see a chronic groin strain happen live on the telly.  But they seemed to make it through unscathed - unlike the rest of us.  Sometimes less is more, people.

Next week – THE FINAL!  Please add “excruciating ‘comedy’ VT of the coach trip up to Blackpool” to your bingo cards, cause YOU KNOW it’s gonna happen.  Oh, and you might also want to mentally prepare yourselves for the rejects’ group dance and the return of Dell’Olio.  And then, let the final three and their Russian pros fight it out.  Who will win?  Obviously I'm contractually obliged to support my sweepstake horse Jason (££).  But although I think Harry will edge it with the voting audience, my heart belongs to Chelsee. Healey for the win!

Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep voting!