Series 11 – Week 9

Erm, has anyone checked on Kristina?  I fear she may still be trawling the Elstree corridors, mascara streaming, dance stiletto in hand, gunning for Darcey, Bruno and Len. Or maybe she’s tracking down each individual phone voter, one by one, to wreck havoc and wrath with some reinforced glittered talons.  Poor lovely Kristina - ever since Calzaghe was (oh so mistakenly) deemed the pre-show bookie's favourite, via the Donovan thigh clamp to this year's hunk jackpot, she’s felt the trophy so very nearly in her grasp, but it just hasn’t happened for her (yet).  MAYBE NEXT YEAR, KRISTINA.  I'M WITH YOU, LOVE. Frankly, it feels like it should be her turn fairly soon.  Let’s not have another Eringate, eh?

Ben, however, was totally fine about leaving - he’d said his goodbyes to TessTess before the dance-off even started.  He gave it his all during the last few weeks - happy to throw on whatever teeny piece of vestwear Kristina threw at him, even pumping up the gun veins for their strongman charleston, as well as donning glittered braces and attempting some Louis Smith style gurning, but his final performance just didn’t have the oomph-edge or determined effort that Mark’s did.  So let’s remember Ben's ovary-warming paso, the genuinely lovely American Smooth and his all-round right on, kind, bemuscled, swoony, general quality good bloke-ness.  Oh, and that time they dressed him as a sailor.

Sorry Katie – that’s your £1 gone.  At least you’re safe from Kristina’s fury - as whether you voted for her or not, she'll think you did.  Or you can claim to have done so, as she approaches with her sharpened dance shoe.

Without wishing to compromise my own safety, I'll admit that I'm pleased to see Mark survive again: a) as I think he has more to offer than Ben in performance terms and b) IVETAMAZING.  I wasn’t a huge fan of their foxtrot, because, well, I’m not a huge fan of the foxtrot, but it was still adorable and included an Ivetamazing leg extension, which will be firmly included on all Strictly 2014 bingo cards.

For me, the dance of the night falls to Abbey or Patrick – I can’t quite decide.  I think Patrick edged it really, as a paso doble to 'You Got The Love' is fairly textbook Strictlycad taste, whilst a Viennese waltz to 'A New Day Has Come'... well, it takes a lot for the romantic mush to conquer my steely cynical core, but this totally worked, in spite of Anya’s toilet roll dress and 90 seconds of a Celine Dion cover.  Probably I was distracted by the wind machine opener and thought I was at Eurovision, where my ears are regularly exposed to the most overblown gorgonza and I totally forget to implement a sonic decency filter. Yes, that must be it, as the alternative - that I actually secretly and subconsciously rate la Dion - is a preposterous notion!   (Mind you, I can listen to the whole of 'My Heart Will Go On' in one sitting and, whilst I wouldn’t say that I enjoy the experience, I can do it without being overcome by a Hulk/Rihanoff-esque rage - I understand this to be a rare skill.)

Elsewhere, unhindered by choon cheese (though hindered by an ouchy curtain rope plait repeatedly smacking her in the face) Abbey's paso was also great - even though the judges were really quite harsh to her.  (Then again, harsh judging was the evidently producer-sanctioned storyline of the evening, as everyone took a slug from the judges.)  I thought Abbey looked glorious in slinky blue and managed some excellent fierce face (Tyra, or whichever Tyra-substitute was doing Britain's Next Top Model at the time, would be proud).  Also, and I don’t want to start a rival thread to the Digital Spy buttocks one or dwell on a well-worn crush, but Aljaz in a little waistcoat and toreador trews...?  Well...  (*controversial statement ahoy*)  Sorry Pasha, but I think you’ve been usurped.

Whilst we’re on shameless objectification, I mean, complimenting body parts (oh yeah, like saying it like that makes it better), well done to Natalie’s breasts, which looked especially magnificent in her Jem and the Holograms tango dress.  So much so that I will accept her straightened locks, but I want the 'fro back soon please.  I thought Natalie's performance was as excellent as ever, but it was marred by a rubbish old song choice.  Rihanna’s 'Where Have You Been' might be fine for some in the air finger pointing and club night bum-shaking on the roof terrace of a Balearic superclub, or indeed the sweat and beer-stained dance floor of a Romfordian discotheque, but for a tango?  I don’t think so.  Though it’s possible that the Wonderful Wonderful Orchestra just didn’t have quite enough sub-woofing bass to carry it off properly.  Speaking of, where’s Trev the Hat gone?  I haven’t noticed his Phil Jupitus cheeky face poking out behind the ever slimming Dave Arch.

Ashley’s waltz also had an odd musical choice, but actually 'I Will Always Love You' worked out better than Tango Riri, even though it was essentially background music, which barely related to the beat of their dance - am impressed that we couldn’t hear them counting 1-2-3 1-2-3 out loud really.  I’m sort of warming to ATD.  By which I mean, I don’t irrationally dislike him as much as I did at the start.

I’m coping with Brendan quite well too this series, though his overly repeated (and therefore whiny) defence that ‘it’s still a rumba even though we weren’t bonking on the dancefloor in dance form, get over it BRUNO’ was slightly annoying.  I don’t think that was the problem the other judges actually had with the dance; my understanding was that, sure, it wasn’t a raunchfest, but that interpretation was actually ok – the trouble was the fact that it was cold and not particularly chemistrycious.  (I.e., it’s fine to make it romantic, but, well, MAKE IT ROMANTIC.)  Sophie remained fairly impassive to me and didn’t seem filled with lust *or* glazed adoration for Brendan, though, admirably, she didn’t break down in giggles - using all her skills as 34 year old woman, probably.  I was also no fan of her gauze maxi dress over beige leo complete with cutesy hair barettes– even la Bextor couldn’t persuade me that that was a look to copycat.  

Susanna’s chocolate-coin skirt-pants look was a better one, if a skimpy one, but such is the way of the cha cha cha.  Her dance was an appealing hot mess to me, with the highlight the OH NO HE DIIINT Ricki Lake finger wag at the start of the show, as Kevin chatted up Darcey - this then seamlessly led to a decidedly pelvic walk up to the judges’ bench to wrench Grimsby on to the dancefloor.  I’ll say this for Susanna, she commits, and fearlessly.   I doubt she'll go without a fight.

Both she and Sophie were precariously placed on the leader-board - at this stage, the wrong dance can fox someone, and this year it seems closer than ever.  I suspect Mark won’t push on much further (he’s got the samba this week  - so UH-OH), and then, well, I just cannot call it.

Overall it was a bit of a lacklustre week, all told - a Blackpool hangover really.  So let’s discuss the real highlight: Mary Berry leaping out of a giant cake.  

Good old Bezza – she’s used to dancing, clearly, given her fondness for Ibiza, and for a Bake Off fan like me, it was an excellent surprise.  Though on some level, the comedy value of Paul Hollywood being made to sit in a fake cake before getting wheeled on stage by Anton, well...  That might have edged it.  I also enjoyed Bruno’s attempt to sex up his chef’s outfit, by slipping open not one, not two, but several buttons.  I doubt that much exposed chest hair is a wise move in the kitchen.  It’s highly flammable, you know.

Il Divo must have pinned the show down to a regular, contractually-obliged, Results Show appearance, as there they were again - promoting their special brand of genetically modified testosteropera.  Spanish Divo is still my favourite (my ‘favourite’); it's the way that his weird kiss curl, permanent smirky eyebrow and utter lack of neck don’t in any way hinder his unabashed self-confidence that he is a sexy hombre the senoras just CANNOT RESIST - I’ll never cease to find that contradiction properly hilare.  As for the others, Swiss Divo still looks like a waxwork Bond villain moulded from the shiniest of materials, and the Americano and Frenchio Divos remain interchangeable (no idea which one is which, or if they even are American and French).  Anyway, all four Divos need to work on their harmonies – what a cacophony during the choruses.  I’ve seen am dram versions of West Side Story and they were waaaaaay better than that.  

I find the concept of Il Divo fairly depressing at the best of times and it further saddened me that they’ve nicked Andre Rieu’s SUPER PROGRESSIVE idea of having all that steamy singing manhood adoringly framed by hot lady fiddlers.  I think there must be a factory in the Alps where armies of orchestral fembots have been manufactured and sold as sexy (and easily transportable) musical machine-based support for macho classical singers on tour.  Cause, you know, actual human female professional violinists wouldn’t be able to cope, what with all the high risk swooning potential around such melodious hunk appeal.  *sigh*

In other sad news, Tess was wearing a cropped jumpsuit made of a sofa cushion. (*double sigh*)  Saturday’s slightly boring Sexy Grecian dress was fantastic by comparison (meh on any other scale), but it was interesting to note that the skirt was full of mucho fabric and slit free - TessTess obviously playing it safe on the Bruce thigh grab front.  Claude was in hot pink, but my eyes automatically auto-erase any Winkeman fashion issues, as SHE IS SO WONDERFUL.  Regardless, Darcey won all the dress-offs with Sunday’s number - lacy sleeves.  Hello.

And that's our lot people, more or less.  Hopefully there’ll be a bit more pizzazz during next week’s Musicals themed show.  They’ve been priming us for years to find the theme weeks JUST SO EXCITING and maybe my defences have been worn away now, as I’m quite looking forward to it.  Mind you, that could be because we’re left with really able performers now, so each dance has the potential to be truly great.  So, ‘ooooh come on’ as Len frequently says.  Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep jazz hands.

Series 11 – Week 8 - Blackpool

Well, you had a jolly good run, Fiona, and were able to happily leave on a pretty good dance, in which you looked like a slightly older Kristen Dunst playing a rich divorcée riding the alimony pony, who ends up riding Anton The Pilot - in DANCE FORM, MY GOD, YOUR MINDS.   Yes, the riding involved a slightly unfortunate legs akimbo lift hoist, but overall I thought it was a lovely American Smooth for Fiona, who exits with a higher media profile and Anton du Beke’s eternal friendship (one out of two etc etc – oh I jest, I’m coming round to Anton these days, now he’s gone for the season).  Here also endeth Wardrobe’s kindest dress run to date; even that bejewelled leafy dress was comparatively fetching - and quite the sheeny shiny (sunglasses-advised) sequinfest.  Julien Macdonald, Cher and Joan Collins are currently embroiled in a violent rumble over who gets to keep it.  My money is on Cher, obviously.

As for your money, ciao to your £1 Dan – another one bites the sweepstake dust.  Sorry. :-(

I was very pleased to see Mark survive though, as giving a big man with problematic knees a dance as frenzied as THE JIVE - well, that’s just nasty, and not in a good Miss Jackson way.  (AND that was on the back of a rumba – hardly the easiest run of dances.)  It's almost like The Powers wanted Mark out, but not yet, not on Ivetamazing's watch (as Twitter has deemed her – Ivetamazebombs, if you ask me).  This week I particularly enjoyed Ivetamazing's face when Mark offered her chips and gravy: “Mmmmm, my favourite” she said, deadpan and poker-faced, clearly a graduate of the Joey Tribbiani school of food acting, though the subtext was clear: "I vill not eat zis shit".  

Their performance wasn't half bad either – given the circumstances (bulk and knees) and his costuming (red velvet tomato).  From anyone else, a jive to Can't Stop The Beat would have put me in a right sulky old mood - Erin already dun it and she dun it best - but Mark has a genuine right to use that tune, seeing as he's actually Edna Turnblad-ed his way through real-life-people-paid-to-see-it-on-stage Hairspray. AND they got the dinosaur in.  Great fun. 

In spite of the excessively repetitive hype (we get it, TessTess, the atmosphere is great) and overuse of Blackpool sunglasses, it was an excellent show, with the standard visibly improved from where we started.  Everyone danced as well as you would hope and there some absolute crackers in there, even though Craig’s ten paddle was defiantly held back.

The real surprise for me was ATD.  Sure, I was expecting him to be highly competent, but when I heard we were getting a cowboy paso, my first thought was: Oh Ola, sweetheart, best leave the conceptual shizzle to Iveta and the costume-based pervification to Kristina.  But I actually rather enjoyed their ridiculous Wild West Doble, no doubt in part thanks to a bit of Bon Jovi action powering it along (a well-established feature of any Cad and Mr Cad roadtrip - that and some Springsteen, oh yesss).  And Ashley danced it very well - he wasn't as mincey as he has been in the past, though his angry outlaw sex face looked more like a schoolboy trying to stifle a few giggles, so that was a little less successful.  Ola does still need to work on the pervification, though - there was far too much boring black and brown in there and far too little glittery chaps action.  Imagine how Robin would have cowboy-ed it up?  YEE-HAW.

In many ways, Kevin from Grimsby’s paso costume could also have done with some additional Strictly pimping too - yes, it was sequinned and elaborate and scarlet but it was still lacking something somehow...  Let's face it, Artem would have totes paso-ed topless, or with some under-jacket nipple flashing at the very least, and Anton would probably have insisted on a tasseled hat.  But I do respect the very traditional styling (and the shirt remaining on) - I think it was the tie that was perhaps problematic; like an office worker who hadn’t quite got out of his work wear before getting his matador on. (And what an extra circular activity *that* would be - by day, he writes reports in the heart of Milton Keynes, by night, HE BULLFIGHTS!)  I did enjoy Kevin's eye make-up though - is this a man with a secret emo past?  I can totally see him with a glued-down GHD-straightened fringe over the left eye.

Anyway, enough of Kev’s styling, let’s talk about the dance, shall we?!  I usually prefer a RAWK paso, but I really liked this - camp yet fiery, with an amazingly dramatic SMACK DOWN ON THE FLOOR death scene.  Mr Cad has predicted Susanna for the trophy, and I think he might have something.  He’s also called an inevitable BBC ship-jump to Daybreak  in the New Year - again, that might well be accurate.  I’ll just heed this warning to our Suz: Christine Bleakley. (Unless, of course, Susanna is keen to add “Text Santa” and “That Dog Can Dance” to her CV - thank you Wikipedia, as I’m afraid I missed those TV jewels). 

I’m still naively gunning for Natalie to win though, I *think*.  She’s just so good and the fact that she keeps getting snarks from the GBP for being so good (I mean how DARE she!) is enough to make her a bit of an underdog in my mind.  Her return to the stage wasn’t quite the stormer I’d imagined (the charleston is going to be hard for anyone after Sophie’s era-defining turn), but it was still a fantastic, if gurn-y, performance, even though I spent the first half trying to suss out how they got her wonderful giant mane under that Josephine Baker wig.  I loved the  channelling of Betty Boop too - though just typing that makes me now want to see a Betty BOO charleston (or indeed any other Boo-based number), ideally with a Budget Space Age theme.  I realise it will be a challenge for the Strictly Singers to recreate that brilliantly shoddy rap style, but I'm willing to take the risk.

Whilst I was on board with Susanna and Natalie’s tens, I’m not sure I was quite there with Abbey’s - though clearly a seVEN from Craig was ludicrous, especially after he proclaimed that he “absolutely LOVED it”.  Mind you, I'm always happy to see a ten from Bruno.  I will never tire of Bruno’s ten delivery - back not just with a pout, but with added pelvic thrust and frontal fist pump, like an over-excited Power Ranger.  Sure, I enjoyed Abbey and Aljaz’s quickstep, but (unlike Craig) I didn’t absolutely LOVE it, although I will concede that that Digital Spy thread about Aljaz's behind must have been buzzing.  White trews and braces?  Gosh.

In many ways, I preferred the other quickstep, from Sophie, who looked like she was having a whale of a time being whisked around by Brendan in her Quickstep blue.  Of course, that was probably because it was such a marked improvement on her costume in the opening group number on Saturday - not even Sophie Ellis-Bextor can pull off being dressed as a giant lilypad.  As much as I love to watch a quickstep, I’ve never been tempted to try one, as it’s basically jogging in hold, which sounds like taking a non-fun thing and making it even harder.  But after seeing Sophie give it a go... well, maybe I *do* want to quickstep!  And (shock upon shock) maybe I could even give jogging in hold with Brendan Cole a go (have I gone too far?).   Sophie’s delightful I-want-to-be-your-mate cool is exactly the kind that the advertising industry tries to bottle and whiff out an attempt to sell stuff, such is the potential of her influence.  I’d recommend people avoid walking over bridges in Sophie’s company - if Sophie Ellis-Bextor said you should jump...  Well, there's a fair chance you would, I reckon.

I think there’s also a fair chance that many viewers would have been keen to play Twister with Ben - although beware his competitiveness when it comes to Buckaroo; as Kristina said: “I'm not going to lie, Ben was in the zone”.  And clearly a boardgame session was just what was needed to get Ben to focus on the prize - their American Smooth was great, though it's fair to say that performances which are low on dancing and high on Ben spinning Kristina above his head like a basketball are going to aid the Cohen passage through the competition.  Ben is lovely - immensely attractive, both because of his face and physique, but because he is so clearly a right good egg who battles for all the right things - but I’m not so blinded by pecs and ethics that I’d want Ben to beat out the better dancers.  Unless he gets better at the dancing as well as the lifting, I think I’d rather see Mark and Patrick progress further at this stage. 

Or do I? Argh. It's tough. Next week is going to be interesting - particularly given the trajectory that Patrick is following (well performance-wise), as he really is trotting out ever improving dances.  We all know how difficult and potentially rubbish the samba can be, but Patrick totally rocked it, and he even managed to be not-completely-cringearama-dad-dancey in a glitter chiffon shirt - at 50!  (Maybe there is hope for my sweepstake £1 after all...)  Poor Anya though - to be wearing so little and to still get your heel caught in the Fraggle Rock escapee tacked on to your bottom...  That's Alanis Morrisette-eque irony, that is.   

But of all the costume woes... well. 

*deep breath* 

WHAT THE HELL WAS TESS WEARING ON SUNDAY NIGHT AND HOW THE HELL DID ANYONE WITH EYES WHO LOVES HER LET THAT HAPPEN MY GOD IT WAS AWFUL AND THAT'S IN THE CONTEXT OF YEARS OF TESSDRESSMESS EVEN BY THOSE STANDARDS IT WAS ATROCIOUS YEGADS WHY TESSTESS WHY?  

Seriously though - full length disco bacon with camouflaged disco bacon belt bow does not a fashion success story make.  The only redeeming feature, pointed out by my sister, was that it wasn’t a jumpsuit.  This was a true return to TessDressMess, and no mistake.  Even Saturday’s ear armour and batman utility belt didn’t prepare me for that.  It was an utter horror and it made me sad.  Bad TessTess.

Bruce made me sad too, then (very quickly) furiously angry.  After a week off, you’d have hoped someone might have recharged Bruce's batteries, but OH MY GOD. No. The ‘jokes’... well, even someone of James Jordan's IQ could have seen them coming a mile off.  In our house “SEAGULLS” and “SHORT PIER” were repeatedly screamed at the telly well before Bruce bumbled his way to the 'punchline'.  Good on Ola for not bothering to rearrange her bitchy resting face and forcing a laugh.   And I know it was Blackpool, but there was no need for seventies throw-backing, even if it was only hints.  Did no-one think to caution against the line: “What's not to like about Mr Punch?”  (Oooooh, I don't know... how about domestic violence?)  This has *got* to be Bruce’s last year – got to be.  To think of all the Claude action we’re missing, whilst we’re forced to see Bruce manhandle Tess’ thighs.  Highly depressing.

On a happier note, at least Sunday’s group opener was exceptional.  Clearly inspired by Karen v Ola - or perhaps just a general documentary about the violent world of competitive ballroom dancing (in ballroom dance form, how apt!).  Certainly the dancers threw themselves into elbowing and doggy stares with polished gusto - almost like they had done that kind of thing before.  Though my favourite was non-pro Fiona Fullerton giving Iveta the finger eye, though - that was brillz.

Saturday’s opener was also special, though in a very different way - and I’m not talking about the giant fuzzy felt flower costumes or the fact that Camilla Dallerup (CAMILLA DALLERUP!) made an uncredited cameo appearance without the requisite Strictly Royalty Fanfare, reduced to pushing a piece of stage across the floor in a feather headdress (no matter that she looked like she was really enjoying herself... ) 

No, my issue was this: 

Children ballroom dancing.  

*sigh*

I get that the likes of Artem and Aljaz and Iveta and Ola and, yes, even Karen Hardy and Anton du Beke had to learn the ropes somehow, and I certainly don’t think kids should be mocked for doing what they love, or be prevented from doing it, but... but... but... Oh man, it freaks me out.  I think it’s because I don’t really like anything that has children behaving like adults - whether it's Adolescent Hague at the Tory conference in 1977 (not I like Adult Hague, or indeed any other year at the Tory conference, any better) or kids dressed in preposterous adult ballroom gear, recreating the vertical expression of a horizontal I can’t even finish that sentence.  Look, I get the same feeling when I see a baby dressed in a tux or a toddler in a waistcoat.  I don’t like it, OK.  Even if it is The Future.

ANYWAY, let’s think about a different, and closer, future right now – week 9, back in the studio and getting ever close to the trophy.  I love that it’s quite hard to call - to me, anyone leaving now, even Mark and Ben, will make me sad, as I think they all have much to offer us, in dance/performance/pectoral terms.  I'll just say this - use your five free internet votes, wisely people.  Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep thinking.

Series 11 – Week 7

So who would fail at the final pre-Brighton, sorry, pre-Blackpool hurdle?  Well, no real surprises - it was time for our Dave (Dave-Dave not Darcey-Dave), bless him.  Karen's last stand was to try and coax Scotland to vote for him, but sadly it wasn't a comical MacTriumph of a MacTango (Mr Cad is Scottish so such racial stereotyping is MacFine) and so it had to be his time (MacTime).  Sorry Sweepstaker Jo, that means it's your pound's time to go too.

I know the power of the kilt - Mr Cad was wearing one the evening we met (the power of whisky is also noted), but sadly it didn't work for Dave on this occasion.  The unfortunate reality is that Dave actually attempting to ballroom dance wasn't as entertaining as Dave just doing his thang with a very vague nod to a ballroom or latin style, in a silken shirt slit to the navel, whilst Karen wore a complimentary fruit basket on her head.

However, well done to the Wonderful Orchestra for managing enough Proclaimers' influence without going full Leith pastiche.  (Cue plug for the wonderful Sunshine on Leith film, which will nearly bring you as much cheesy joy as Dave's cha cha, though apols for the term 'cheesy joy'. Not sure that's such a seller...)

Of all the 'joke' contestants we've seen over the years, Dave has been my favourite, because he really did seem to utterly love the experience, and his partner, rather than appearing to endure the whole thing for cash and a shot at the panto circuit.  It felt like we were laughing with Dave, rather than at him.  I think the Hairy Dancers simply lost steam a week or two ago, and the cheesy joy started to mould slightly.  I'm just going to remember the good times, personally: the Cuban Pete salsa (tears of joy), the Meatloaf Paso (tears of wonder) and, best of all, Does Not Quite Move Like Jagger (convulsions of pant-wetting laughter).  It may not have been the polished dancing the final will (hopefully) throw up, but the first half of Strictly would have been relatively dull and uneventful without Dave’s enthusiasm for hair and dance.  We'll remember this series as the Hairy Biker series, and that says a lot.  Here endeth the MacTribute.

As for Dave's dance-off opponent and fellow big man, well, I'd have been sad to lose Mark at this stage, as I think he's a better dancer than the judges (LEN) give him credit for (honestly, what was Len on about on Sunday? His walnuts were in a right old state!).  But more importantly, I cannot allow Ivetamazeballs to be taken away from us just yet.  Yes, the Dr Evil/Chairman Mao costume, with matching white pussy, was fantastic, but really their rumba was all about one thing only: Iveta's spray on lamé catsuit, in all its golden camel-toed glory.  (Poor Ola, last week Karen slagged her dancing skills, this week Iveta reclaims the catsuit. Harsh stuff.) 

Iveta Luckypeashooter has been the revelation of the series, as far as I'm concerned.  Did you see her wish Patrick Happy Birthday on It Takes Two (27.40)?  Genuine quote: “Next time I see you, I gonna hug you, I gonna kiss you and I gonna KRRRRUSH YOU *dramatic pause* VIZ LOVEFF. I'm not ready to miss what she choreographs next (I'm guessing another slow mo leg extension) and nor should you be. Else I vill KRRRRUSH YOU! Viz a giant crushing machine (*dramatic pause*) of loveff.

At the other end of the leaderboard, well, no Natalie for starters, as she fainted during rehearsals and had to be taken to the hospital.  Horrible stuff, and I hope she'll be ok - it's just not the same without a performer of her quality on the dance floor.  I was really, really looking forward to seeing her 'Tonight Matthew I'm Going To Be Tina Turner' jive to Proud Mary, which promised super sharp kicks and flicks and plenty of Tina Twerker, and which I'm sure would have been sensational. Not least because her hair looked MAGNIFICENT and Artem was going to be jiving in orange and pink paisley with clashing braces.  Hopefully they'll get to do it in the final, complete with Chigvintsev medallion and Gumede wonderfro.

Instead, Patrick took a turn at the top of the leaderboard - and well deserved too, I think. That was a cracking American Smooth - especially the hopscotch on the stairs bit, and there were brief glimpses of Anya and Patrick chemistry to boot.  Sure it was a shame that Anya's skirt got caught and there was a slight lift kerfuffle at the end, but I think my sweepstake £1 could be safe for another week or two at this rate – depending, of course, on when he's forced to do a rumba.  That could spell danger, and financial inconvenience, ahead.

Mind you, Twitter wasn't hugely happy that Patrick was the recipient of Dave’s ten paddle, with plenty commenting that Susanna had the dance of the night.  I’m never a massive fan of the waltz, but I agree that this one was very lovely, even if it opened with Susanna shivering (get her a Sara Lund jumper then!) before auditioning for either a hand cream or a fairy liquid ad; rubbing her hands sensually as Kevin arrived to whirl her around.  It’s hard to avoid schmaltzy mush with the waltz, but this was just the right side of the romantic cliché for me - though I bet little girls up and down the country were going NUTS for it and making feminist mothers nervous as they squealed glazed-eyed delight at the peachy pinkness and feathery foufeiness of Susanna's dress.  Hopefully the moment will pass when they realise the inconvenience of dragging several flamingos around the town.

Speaking of flamingo dresses - Ola's quickstep number: drunk famingos on acid, and yet another gown that may not help the worthy Pink Stinks cause (though, I'll be honest, it was a bit too Neon Ballroom Barbie for me).  I actually really enjoyed Ashley and Ola's quickstep, though I'm always a sucker for a quickstep, so the bar was low, to be honest...  But I will admit that I've been a bit mean about Ashley's commitment to rehearsals in the past, as I'd forgotten that he has a full-time job on Hollyoaks, which I'll accept may be fairly time-consuming and not an unreasonable time commitment.  I'm just not getting enough personality through - nice bloke, bit beige.  I mean, think of us bloggers - we need meat for our sarcastic quippery.  Meat or disaster.  Ideally meat.  And cue...

Mr Cohen!  Hi!  Or 'coooeeeeee' as my friend Vix might say (translation: HAS SAID) to an attractive rugby player. 

At first it looked like Kristina was banking on a backflip to get Ben through another week, but I suspect she panicked slightly when it had to be springboard assisted, so JUST IN CASE went for Plan B: ahoy matey, à l'eau, c'est l'heure!  I think most of us (NAUTICAL GAG ALERT) were ‘on board' with that sailor's outfit, especially when such taut white slacks were part of the costume.  (Popeye-popping stuff.) 

As for their dance... Well, we all know that I'd be first in the queue to endlessly swoon at the altar of Ben Cohen, but it's not Strictly Come Big Unit, people, and he is going to need to up the dance ability to win, in my view.  I appreciate that it is harder for a giant hunk of ham muscle to do a sprightly jive and, on balance, it was probably more Jolly Roger than drunken sailor, but still...  It wasn’t AMAZING – and, as Rugby jives go, Austin Healey can rest easy for now.

(And so can Erin – that turquoise jive dress would still be excellent on a pregnant lady.  I do hope she's getting it taken out for her third trimester, when I'm sure jiving will be top of her To Do list.)

Fiona also had some excellent dress action - she's been getting a consistently kind run from Wardrobe, who, let's face it, are picky about their preferred charges.  Fiona's paso didn't quite grab me as much as her dress - it looked jerky and awkward on first view.  But I watched it again closely to see where Anton went wrong (and missed that completely, as my eyes are programmed to mainly avoid Anton) and I decided Fiona wasn't actually too bad at all.  I can't risk watching it a third time, because... well, Anton in a turtleneck and matador trousers that could have gone up a size or four – that’s beyond the call of duty, peeps.  (I mean, I thought Ben's trousers were snug...)

Then again, on the subject of snug trousers - and it is an important one, I accept - it's worth pointing out that there is a thread on the Digital Spy forum called “Aljaž's arse appreciation thread”, which currently runs to three pages and which I have visited for you all in the name of research - it's ok, there is no need to thank me, I take this role seriously, for better, for worse, for arse. In summary, there is much appreciation for said bottom (“peachy deliciousness”, “nom nom”) alongside queries about the identity of the mysterious 'Caron'.  Hot stuff. 

To be honest, not that you'll believe me, I didn't notice the buttock situation during their charleston, as I was too busy wishing I could quickly take hold of Abbey's wig and yank it straight, even though I accept it was purposely asymmetric.  I also wanted to get my scissors out and cut off the hanger tags that were still attached to the shoulders of her dress.  But apart from that, excellent work, obviously.  It's impressive when a dance of theirs engages me to the degree that I forget to drool at Aljaz (bum or other attributes), so seriously bravo.

Another “bravo” to report - from my mum in fact, who is French (Strictement Maman), so can use the word legitimately, without the risk of sounding like a local UKIP councillor judging a WI cake sale – oh the irony.  Strictement Maman doesn't bother with the early stages of the show (“ca m'enerve”), so it was all new to her. And her verdict?  Gushing Gallic support for Brendan and Sophie's Argentine Tango.  As far as I could discern there were two main reasons: 1. The music was “traditional” (yes, by that well-known Argentine band, Los Eurythmicos) and 2. Strictement Maman has long fancied Brendan (that particular gene must be thankfully recessive), which she reiterated to me thusly: “oui, c'est mon chouchou.” (French is such a romantic language, there's nothing like confirming affection by referring to someone as your 'cabbagecabbage'.)  I have to agree that it was a good AT, but, for me, it wasn't an AMAZING one à la Ramps or Beige Rachel.  It certainly had its moments (and a crazylush dress) but I think it needed more oomph of some kind - a bit more tits and teeth perhaps, but in a classy Argentine Tango way.  It's the same old Sophie story - she can't quite chameleon her gawky cool style away.  But, yeGADS, she's gorgeous.

(However, broken record time, and just for the record: 

THE ARGENTINE TANGO SHOULD NOT APPEAR UNTIL THE SEMI-FINALS, ARIIIIIGHT?)

On the other hand, something that should appear, and weekly: Claude and TessTess on the Saturday show.  I'm sorry Bruce-fans, but the show is so much better without him.  The magic was there right from the off, as the awkward Tess thigh rub was replaced by a Gal on Gal paso drop - excellent arm muscles, TessTess! (I know there's not much of Claudia to weigh you down, but still...)  Avid readers will know that I used to loathe ol Tess, but I've gently warmed to her ways (mainly since she stopped sniping evil questions at contestants in the Tesspit) and perhaps if she'd had the camaraderie of La Winkles with her from the start it wouldn't have always been thus.  Course that might have meant that I found it all the harder to slate her DressMess, which would have been a terrible loss, so... well fate, eh?  As it happens, I thought her Saturday purple tribute to Angelina Jolie's leg was rather fetching.  I even went so far as to muse that that’s a few weeks of more or less acceptable outfits we've seen, so good work, Tess.  Well, you know what happens when you let your guard down?

POLTERWANG PANTSUIT HORROR.

Honestly, after all that good work, Sunday was back to an outfit that ghosted Tess with a saggy bum and low slung boobs.  Did no-one tell her to beware the unflatteringness of the embroidered corseted baggyarsed jumpsuit?  The country house curtain bodice (even Maria wouldn't have gone there) with Eiffel Tower effect edging wasn't great, but the trouser end?  Just awful.  I can’t even...

Let’s swiftly move on then, to Sunday’s opening pro number: a tribute to the armed forces or to Pasha's finest moment - the Chelsehhh quickstep?  (Another possibility is that the Wardrobe intern mistyped the fabric order, like Kurt on the Apprentice mistaking centimetres and inches, and ended up with a little more turquoise Lycra than Vicky Gill was expecting.)  

Excellent work from the Puppini Sisters too - not only willing to have the pros dance in little hats to their number, but happy to don matching outfits too.  The Tenors made less of an impression on me (USP: one of them is a bit shorter than the others), but we did get a lovely performance from ¡Manrara! and Aljaz, even if he was wearing yet another number from the Skorjanec Special Manlace collection: a blouse with built-in jacket lapels, no less.  In Tess' defence, at least she wasn't wearing that.

And so it’s time to head Oop North. Well, apart from Darcey - it’s unclear where she’ll end up, but if she’s travelling on that scooter in a perfect arabesque [Editor's note: it was in fact an attitude, as pointed out here - I'm now working through the ensuing trauma], it may take some time, regardless.  As for me, I'm off to see if I can get a seat on the minibus TessTess & Claude are co-driving up the M1 - I can only dream of the banter and mixtape action.  Keeeeeeeeeep beeeeeeeep beeeeeeeeeep.

Series 11 – Week 6 - Halloween

Well, megacontroversy ahoy this week – by which I don't just mean Dave surviving (more on that later viewers), but much scandalous hoohah from an alleged bullying incident splashed all over the bastion of truth that is the Daily Mirror, which pitted meek Ola Jordan against fiery Karen Hauer... And there you go - 'meek', 'fiery'... already I'm using emotive language and failing to LEAVE IT PHIL.  Instead of retaining the superior moral high-ground  I've taken the tabloid bait and run with it.

Might as well carry on then.

The story goes one of a number of ways: the official Beeb line is that Karen and Ola had a row, Karen was in the wrong, apologised and we're done here people.  Ola's spokesperson reported that Karen “verbally attacked” Ola, but the BBC got involved and Karen apologised - so more or less the same as the official line, but with fun added blame.

So those are the 'facts' (i.e., the tightly controlled PR), but what of the real juicy stinking tabloid meat we're all hungry like hyenas for?  Well *that* story goes like this: Awful Horrible Karen New Girl Who Does She Think She Is Hauer waited until Chivalrous Never One To Meanly Bait People It's Just Bantz If You Don't Like It You Have No Sense Of Humour James Jordan was out of the room, then set upon Lovely Timid Wouldn't Say Boo To A Goose Not Known For Being Feisty Oh No Ola, and apparently Karen said Ola was always at the back of group dances because - despite us having eyes which suggest the contrary - Ola's rubbish at dancing.  (Dancers bitching to other dancers!  Imagine!  I can't believe any of them have had to put up with THAT kind of thing before, what with being part of an industry that has such a mild and easy-going reputation.)  ANYWAY, Ola, rather understandably you might think, was a wee bit upset at being called a shit dancer, so she immediately threatened to quit (a 'source' said it, so it MUST be true), before deciding that the show must go on, heroism ahoy and it was probably better to fulfil one's contractual obligations and bravely continue appearing on prime time terrestrial Saturday night TV - after all, Ola couldn't leave Ashley in the lurch, even though he's only willing to spare five minutes each week away from his own PR to train.  Best of all, the fight ALLEGEDLY took place during a pro-dance rehearsal and Pasha 'swoon' Kovalev had to hold Karen's hair extensions back to stop her from tearing out Ola's hair extensions (let us all briefly dwell on the erotic potential of Pasha in a catfight sandwich) and sure, there was an apology and the Beeb say it's all sorted and no-one's quitting or getting fired or upset any more, but why leave it there when you can throw words like 'bullying' around?

I imagine the reality is somewhere in the middle – Karen had a go and was made to say sorry, Ola was still a bit peeved and her PR leaked the story... WHO KNOWS?  It certainly didn't stop the Digital Spy forums respectfully speculating on who was the most likely bully in the cast (most popular choice: Kristina) or Twitter getting affronted because someone might have said something mean and bitchy, so responded to the horror of someone maybe saying something mean and bitchy by saying something definitely mean and bitchy, repeatedly to Karen's twitter feed, until Ola asked them to stop, though that may have spurred them on, who can tell, because applying logic to this situation is just ridiculous.  It’s still going on on the forums AS WE SPEAK.

Dear God.  And I can't even rise above it, as I've just typed all that and haven't deleted it. 

The point I suppose I'm trying to make is that it's a shame that people... Well, it's a shame that people. Period.  That sums it up neatly.

This wouldn't have happened on Erin’s watch.

ANYWAY, this also means that I haven't reported Rachel's exit til now.  So let's do that, shall we?  Bye bye dear lovely but terrible dancer Rachel – dancing the “abominable American Smooth with her partner Pasha 'Killer' Kovalev” (as the BBC made voiceover man Alan Dedicoat say - abominable might be slightly harsh, but... ahem).

Sorry Sweepstaker Abi, that's your £1 down - but we will all mourn Pasha leaving.  Not only is he Pasha (HELLO), not only was he dressed as a pussycat (PURRRR), but he's now a brave cat-scrap intervener and defender of the peace (OUR HERO).  But let's face harsh facts here, peeps. Being Pasha just wasn’t enough to propel a lovely gorgeous girl with a not-great (atrocious) dancing style to the final.  I know that everyone else thought Rachel had improved this week, but I still found her pretty dire on the dancefloor and, in spite of a geniousse move on Pasha's part in casting her as a wooden mannequin (she was MEANT to be clunky and inelegant you SEE), it wasn't going to go anywhere in the weeks to come, was it?  Week 6 and still not pointing your feet - that's just basic, however happy you are to be hoisted up on to the Kovalev shoulder.  (Orderly line, please.)

On that basis, I may be alone, but I wasn’t so sad to see Rachel go this week - I’d still rather have one more week of Dave, as I tend to prefer ‘LOL’ rubbish to ‘oh love, this is just awkward’ rubbish.  But my support rests on the proviso that Dave brings back some comedy for his (inevitable?) swansong. This week’s Monster Mash jive was lacklustre and disappointing - no fruit wig or leather cape-work for starters.  It half felt like The Hairy Dancers were trying to actually DAHHNCE, but Dave's technique was still so dreadful that the judges didn't even notice and failed to dish out any ensuing credit.  It's tough stuff, though I suppose Karen had other things on her mind - like swapping her silent PR company for a passive aggressive spokesperson.

Still, the upshot of the public saving Dave was the shocker that was Abbey rumba-ing with “Aljaz 'Scabby' Skorjanec” in the Dance Off - basically sealing Rachel’s fate.  And it was a shock!  I didn't see that one coming, even though it totally happened to Kimba last year, in pretty much the same circumstances.  I felt sad for Abbey.  I liked her rumba - turns out it's not such a cringe-fest when it's danced by two people whose beauty is off the scale.  Clearly the public disagreed and didn't phone in their masses for them (or click five times on the internet), though I'm sure we all appreciated Aljaz's Tory Wife blouse and its lack of buttons. 

Abbey must have come bottom of the public vote to fall so low.  I imagine Sophie's fan gang got voting, after she scored 6 (and Ben scored 9 - I know his pecs are rather defined, but COME ON). It also gives us a glimpse of Anton’s terrifying popularity, as I really thought Fiona and her partner “Anton 'Deathly' du Beke” would be dancing again.  I wasn't hugely taken by their “chilling charleston” - I mean, there's a misrepresentation for starters!  It was a polite charleston in scarecrow outfits, where the make-up theme was 'sticking one's face in a cow pat'.  I can see why Make-Up might be happy to stick poo up Anton’s nose, but there was no need to drag Fiona into it.

The charleston is already niche and characterful (I'm feeling generous), so it doesn't need a fancy dress theme to jazz it up.  Really, it's too wacky and silly to be scary or sinister (well, purposefully sinister) and Susanna and Kevin's charleston was a prime example.  It would have been as good, if not better, if it hadn't been to Bad Moon Rising (a terrible song for a gurnfest) and we didn't need to see “Kevin 'Corpse' Clifton” turned into a hairy garden gnome which has just been electrocuted.  No TV make-up dept has has ever successfully managed to turn a man into a convincing werewolf - even Oz from Buffy just looked like fake fur had been sellotaped to his face, and Kevin's costume is no exception.  And I won’t comment on the hair type used, other than to say ‘suspiciously curly’.

Faring better in the costume stake was “Anya 'Gruesome' Garnis” who did some magnificent stripper work in her “quivering Quickstep” with Patrick - from Sexy Pumpkin to skeleton prom dress (with excellent skeletal booty detail on the behind) in less than a nano-second.  See Deborah, that’s how you do the quick costume change.  Next step – Eurovision, with a song about culitvars of squash and old bones as a metaphor for love and world peace.

Tell you who else would go down well at Eurovision – Ben's chest.  Out and proud.  Sure his “petrifying paso doble” was a sexyfest, but I'm not convinced it was the dancing wot done it, even if he did manage some good spinning bits (yet again, Strictlycad dazzles with her dance lingo) and threw “Kristina 'Rancid' Rihanoff” around a bit quite effectively.

Less effective, but (as I've said) far more harshly scored was Sophie “nerve-jangling jive with Brendan 'Creepy' Cole”.  It was a gangly performance really, all long elastic limbs, not helped by Sophie's red peplum catsuit - although I did enjoy her Asymmetric Morticia wig.  Brendan's still rocking the eighties - I think we can now safely assume he's just bringing his own clothes in.  That doesn't explain why he choreographed a snog with Cher behind the bins mind.

Artem made better use of his props - a dry ice lake from which Natalie could rise like pond scum to... a couple of TENS!  Yay!  (At least the mildew forehead make-up was worth it.)  Her lady of the lake Viennese waltz was just lovely, I thought.  I'm sure there will be a debate as to whether it deserved the score it got, but it suited me and, more importantly, it suited the narrative of the series.  Elsewhere, Artem clearly only accepted being filmed as a disembodied microwaved head in the VT intro if their dance could be introduced without the crappy Halloween words - did you notice Alan didn't spice that one up?  No ‘vile’ or ‘vicious’ Viennese Waltz from them – just a plain old simple one, in a fake lake.

Obviously Ola hasn’t had the time for such negotiations this week, as Alan Dedicoat called her and Ashley’s performance a “terrible tango”, which wasn’t accurate at all.  I still don't like ATD, particularly he seems to be doing the show to promote the crappily-named single, ‘Playboy Bunny’, which sounds excellently misogynistic, unless the content is in fact decrying pathetic fluffy ear-based female objectification. (I can’t tell, as Google has failed me, but, let’s be honest, it seems unlikely.  Course, if it is a feminist proclamation, rather than, say, a song about tits, I am prepared to apologise in print.)  At least Ola had a lovely old week fashion-wise - that electric blue tango dress was wonderful.

I had to rewatch Mark's “poisonous paso” with “Iveta 'loathsome' Luckypoopoo” – all I could see the first time was Iveta flashing her crack.  Don't get me wrong, I think Iveta is the don - I just don't need to see quite so much of her.  Anyway, on second viewing, I'm happy to report I thought it was aces – Mark (or Dave as the judges called him, but then Darcey got called Dave too, so mwahahahaha, am still laughing at that one) produced an excellent camp spaceman macho vibe and danced it pretty well to boot.  Also, well done to hair and make-up for doing Iveta as Mars Attacks meets Insane Clown Posse.

I suppose all the Halloween costuming meant that Tess and Claude could wear whatever they wanted and have a week off being so harshly judged (though I noticed that lace jumpsuit, Claudia, and I wasn’t happy).  In fact, I’ll even go so far as to chalk up another Tessdressyes on Saturday – rather lovely midnight blue lace, excellent for Halloween and not in a freak show kind of way.  I will even skip over the sheer side panels.  Darcey’s hair also looked excellent, even if I’m not convinced the world is yet ready for a crimpers revival.

It was the pro-dances that raised a costume eyebrow – let’s gloss over the pelvic bones and origami knickers for the Madness performance, which I like to think took place at the end of the pier which leads to Erin Island.  It was Timewarp which triumphed - I should know better, but I really, really enjoyed it.  It made good judge use, with Craig having to vogue sitting-down and Bruno getting a cameo, leaping from the desk and assuming the Tess Crucifixion position – he has been gagging for that for YEARS, clearly.  It made good trouser use too – Pasha in tartan (McYUM), Karen in stripy ho-leggings – both of which are going right into my Strictly Trousers Top... well, it has to be a Ten now, there are so many entries.  And it was good to see Robin in a full-on string jumper.  He may be out of the competition, but at least he’s achieved full graduation from the string training vests.

And we’re done!  Next week is THEME AND BRUCE-FREE!!!!  (Although Bruce had his moments, this week – shhhhhh, I didn’t actually say that.)  Even I’ll admit that it’s got to be time for Dave to get back on his bike and ride off into the TV sunset, to cook up joy and Christmas cookbook sales.  I am concerned by the threat of a Dave backlash though – a man that lovely shouldn’t have to face the wrath of the interweb.  He should be free to frolick and gambol like the delight he is - just perhaps not in a ballroom, sadly.  Unless.... who’s in for a backlash against the backlash?!  Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeping hoping!