Series 12 - Week 2

Well Aliona must be charlestoning around her kitchen in fair old delight - she’s freeeeeeeeee!  Her distaste at being partnered with Gregg was palpable from the outset and was probably set in stone when his trousers split during rehearsal and he proudly exclaimed that he didn’t wear pants - ever (NO NO NO).  In Aliona’s defence, I think we’re all pleased that we don’t ever have to watch Gregg stick his glistening bald head in a tub of whipped cream whilst he battles with Cheshire Cat grin-inducing stage fright/thinks about Aliona dressed as a sexy French maid. I’d say sorry to sweepstaker Abi that she's out so soon, but she texted mid-show on Saturday to say she was willing to double her stake to have Gregg leave first, so... 

As for the dance-off victor, Jenny wasn’t the worst (or the 'worst') by a loooong shot (hello Gregg, Scott and Judy), but her appearance in the bottom two does suggest that that the power of the Mrs Brown’s Boys phone vote is probably quite weak, in spite of nearly ten million viewers tuning in at Christmas.  At least she avoided being bottom of the Wardrobe stakes this week; she hit the jackpot with that gorgeous waltz dress with inbuilt Miss World sash - even the red and pink clashing worked for me.  It was a slight shame that Tristan kept revealing Jenny’s flesh-coloured back-stocking when in hold, but I’m willing to forgive such a minor transgression on this occasion, because I’m fair that way - and not at all because Tristan’s so very handsome when his arm tattoos aren’t in sight.  I'm not *that* shallow. Mind you, I'm shallow enough to find Jenny's gapping utterly incomprehensible given the chance she had to cleave to such a hottie. No wonder Claudia bagged Tristan to walk her down the stairs this week.

Anton and Judy were lucky to escape the dreaded D.O, as I very much doubt they'd have survived it. Oh Judy. You seem a hoot, but I really thought that even du Beke's army of devoted fanladies and their landline mobilisation wouldn’t be enough to overcome the dis-AH-STAH that was this cha cha cha.  Where to begin?  Well, on the plus side Judy looked divine (what pins!) and she had more or less memorised the foot placement.  On the other side... look, it’s an Anton latin, so my hopes weren’t high, but still - using a manky white towel and stuffing it in Judy’s face for a few seconds as a legitimate dance move? Just no. Surely it's a given that anything which reminds the audience of perspiration isn’t going to get the cha cha party started?

But regardless - and without wishing to go all uncritical, cuddly Len here - the fact remains that, apart from the ninety seconds for which she’s actually on the dancefloor, Judy Murray appears to be having the time of her life. She clearly loves rehearsing with Anton, she clearly loves all the Strictlyfication, and she even seems to love the judges’ comments - she cackles away at the merest hint of a Bruno arm thrust.  So good on her.  Cause it somewhat unbelievably looks like she may yet get a few more weeks to enjoy it. 

Good too on Natalie Lowe - Dapper Tim was the obvious predicted first boot when the celebs were announced, and here he is, two weeks in, nowhere near the dance off and ready to face another seven days of being charming to Natbot, who is LAPPING up the posh English thing with the widest of Aussie eyes.  Nat knows where her bread is buttered - take a ‘codger’ candidate as far as you can, and you might well be rewarded with a glitterball-achieving studmuffin the next year.  Natalie's choreography was wonderfully cracked out here; I think she was supposed to be a star which briefly manifested itself in 'Beautiful Human Lady Wot Waltzes' form, but, arguably, an equally valid (and slightly more  unsavoury) interpretation could be: 'pervy old man spies on his hot young female neighbour with a telescope then has a few old sexy thoughts about it symbolised through the medium of dance'. Either way they managed to make it sweetly and innocently romantic, rather than dirty man stalker creepy, so bravo to them.

What’s with the green snood on Tim’s head in rehearsals though?  There was some suggestion online that he's a toupee man, but I’m fairly sure that's his real hair. Maybe it’s protection against the subtle tones of Just For Men leaking on the temples?  

Whilst we're on the subject of Tim's VT, how ‘Tory Wife’ does the frightfully elegant Mrs Wonnacott look?  I’m absolutely not casting aspersions on Tim’s fidelity (Mr and Mrs Wonnacott’s love is unquestionably true), but it can’t be ignored that Mrs Tim’s style has something of the ‘being supportive on the doorstep after your MP husband was caught red-handed with a call girl, some bondage gear and a tangerine during the nineties’ about it. 

Mind you, as weird nineties flashbacks go, Scott and Joanne’s tango to the Spice Girls is going to take some beating. I’d (sort-of, maybe) understand if they were tangoing to Spice Up Your Life (I wouldn't, actually), but ‘Stop!’?!?! "Stop right there, thank you very much": THE CLUE IS IN THE VERY LYRICS.  Not that it necessarily mattered that much; apart from one or two tango head tosses, Scott could have been doing any ballroom dance and we’d have struggled to guess what it was.  His tango face was a particular mystery; his pout seemed to involve his cheeks puffing up, fish-meets-hamster-stylee and, for a man in shape, that waistcoat was not a good fit.  (I think it came from the Tess Daly Lingerie Shop of Upper Body Ghost Chubs).

But it matters little, if at all, that Scott was a bit rubbish, as he comes across as a genuinely likeable person the audience have warmed to, and (importantly), will vote for.  Even recycling Vinthent's famous poo slacks into a shiny brown shirt and tie wasn’t a vote stopper.

Tell you which outfit WAS a vote stopper though – Mark's hideous jumper. What the TOWIE was that about?  Clearly someone in Wardrobe had lost his real outfit, so was forced to palm off their grandad’s grey lounge sweater as valid dancewear, by gluing some glitter stripes on to it.  Then again, the jumper of gross served a very useful purpose of distracting all attention from Mark's obscenely tight casual dance-chinos.  

As for Mark's dance, well, I refuse to accept that we’re allowing an American Smooth in Week Two, so will only consent to comment that he and Karen did an ok foxtrot.

Alison too, did some ok foxtrot, but really this dance (and I imagine EVERY dance she will ever do) was less about a particular ballroom style and more  about her infectious performing ability.  Aljaž is evidently entirely on board with playing to Alison's strengths and is going through his role play dressing up box as we speak (lucky, lucky Janette). So far we’ve had Sexy Bodyguard and Sexy Office Minion, and... actually I don’t think it’s wise, from a hormonal/hot flush perspective, to think about about what Sexy Character Aljaž will be in Movie Week.

For yes, it’s Movie Week next week, so they really are sticking with the Theme Thing. *sigh* In all honesty, they’ve worn me down now, so I’m fury-free and just letting it wash over me. It is officially NOT because they hinted that they might dress Thom as a sailor.  Oh no. 

In terms of dressing Thom up, I’m not quite sure what his red sequin vest and white trousers were supposed to signal.   He seemed to be somewhere between ‘beach volleyball referee’ and ‘Baywatch lifeguard’. Vest'n'slacks worked for Steve Backshall, but in truth this wasn't my favourite 'Overtly Objectifying Thom Evans' look of choice. Besides, Ivetamazing had already won the costume stakes with her amazing ten denier, tigerprint rehearsal tights.  Rrrrrrrr.

Thometa's salsa wasn’t too bad, but given Iveta’s poker straight leg extensions and massive acrylic blonde weave, it did look like he was chucking Tropical Barbie around here and there.  He also needs to develop some more facial expressions - ‘inhumanely handsome’ is good, but there’s only so far ‘inhumanely handsome but possibly also made of cardboard’ can take you.  Then again, room-for-improvement leaves some potential to go through The Journey, so I'm not discounting him yet.

I really thought Jake would be The Journey this year, but it’s evident that he has one hundred percent arrived already.  ¡Dios mío! ¡Aiiiiiiie Manrara!  

WHAT A SALSA.  

It was truly great, wasn't it? It's safe to say it was everyone’s favourite of the night, and it quite possibly could be the dance of the series (yes, it can happen this early – remember Sophie’s 2013 charleston?).  I certainly knew the expression 'snake hips' before Jake's salsa, but I'm not sure I so truly understood it.

However, as good as Jake was, I reckon much of the praise should go to Janette's abs. I am in crazy awe of her crazy core - that back bend/foot catch thing has gone STRAIGHT into my Legendary Strictly Moves Top Five, second only to John Sergeant dragging Kristina across the floor in that paso and Ola’s comedy breaststroke (IN THE CHARLESTON – MY GOD YOUR MINDS).

(The full list is:
1. Kristina and John Sergeant’s paso drag.
2. Ola swimming on Chris Hollins in the Charleston.
3. Janette’s #coreawe back bends.
4. Big waltz steps slipping into splits (I think Kristina did it first, but I’m willing to be corrected).
5. Anytime Natalie Lowe does her ballroom head whip.)

I’m worried that Jake might struggle to sustain the now sky-high hopes of the nation in the weeks to come, but he’s put in a truly excellent early bid for the glitterball and we’d be foolish to ignore it.

OK, where are we at, then?  Surely there can’t be many left to talk about.  Oh just the six couples to go?  *Gritted teeth* GREAT!

So let’s talk (briefly, oh so attemptedly briefly) about Jake’s main rivals at the top then.  Pixie was too busy to practice, what with all her exciting chat show appearances, but she (of course) still managed to trot out a boringly excellent waltz. Slightly bizarrely, she did so wearing the lesser-spotted Waltz Bra, which Trent kept trying to cover up with the equally rare Waltz Blanket (both available from all good dancewear shops, I’m sure).  

I still prefer 'tother pop princess, Frankie (and her perfect face – the spit of Alizée, if you’re into your inappropriately-aged French pop, as I’m sure you must be). However, I was well grumpy that she and Kevin did an amazing charleston to the Happy Days theme when it should have been an amazing, amazing jive. Bah humbug. 

Actually, my MAIN grump of the evening was the tango music choices which Caroline and Simon danced to. Just... Just... JUST ARGH!  JUST AWFUL!  JUST ANOTHER BAD WORD THAT STARTS WITH AN 'A' WHICH I'LL THINK OF IN A MINUTE HOW ABOUT UM OH I KNOW ATROCIOUS!  I mean, come on!  A song that incites 'glow stick aloft' waving actions does not a tango make - yes, I’m looking at you, 'Blame by Calvin Harris' (irrespective of the fact that no-one’s used a glow stick since the nineties.  Ahem). 

Truth is, I’ve since re-watched both tangos and now calmly accept that Blame and Simon’s tune Sing aren’t as quite as tango-unfriendly as I first decided (they're still shit, just not all-caps-mega-rant shit).  It’s just that I’ve now reached an age where I’m not as au fait with The Hit Parade as I was and I’m lucky to have heard OF a recent song, let alone heard IT.  Maybe if I had been highly familiar with the Ed Sheeran and Calvin Harris originals I’d have reached a different view, but I wasn't, and I should probably remember the crushing reality that Dave Arch’s Wonderful Orchestra struggles a little with the more modern numbers.

Anyway, music aside, the tango performances themselves were pretty stellar, whatever the judges thought. I particularly loved Simon and Kristina’s little Argentine Tango calf caress section, and Simon’s puffy-chested fronting at the end of the dance, before Kirstina allowed him to break character.  Bruno might have thought Simon needed “MORRRRRE AN-EEE-MALLLLLL” in his tango face, but I thought he had the pout down pat; let’s face it, nothing hones a textbook sexy-moody expression like years of boyband photoshoots.

Caroline’s tango face was also practiced, we learnt - apparently inspired by Pasha suggesting that Caroline pretended he was one of her exes.  (Cue immediate thoughts of Pasha morphing into Harry Styles - though without wishing to incur the death-threat-inciting hatred of One Direction fans, I’m keen to stress that such a change would be a serious disservice to man and womankind.) Caroline also coped admirably with Wardrobe styling her in a spherical tomato costume (so bad), as well as Pasha's somewhat surreal random-suitcaseography.

(NEARLY THERE, FOLKS, NEARLY THERE.)

In the grand scheme of things, it looks like there’s one group of Glitterball Challengers (Simon, Caroline, Pixie, Frankie, Jake, possibly/probably Mark, Thom) and another group of Glitterball challeng-ed (Judy, Scott, Jenny, Tim). This week’s other cha-cha-ers Sunetra and Steve sit (along with Alison) somewhere in the middle at the moment, with real potential to join the top gang, possibly relegating the likes of Thom or Mark in the process.   

Sunetra, in car wash white, was really rather funky - the cha cha's not an easy dance for a woman in her forties, but Sunetra didn't look age-inappropriate at all. Which is more than I was can say for Brendan’s awful, spangle-overloaded, full chiffon-backed shirt.  What was that? You’re a thirty-eight year old man, Brendan! 

(Well, according to Wikipedia’s most recent edit, he is, which... Well, let's put it this way: I’m fairly sure Brendan’s been on Strictly for at least 38 years, so unless he started in his foetal days, the maths just doesn't add up.)  

I know other cha-cha-er Steve did a triumphant tango last week (grrrrrr), but his latin seems to have had less of an impact on my ‘feelings’.  It’s possible that the sequined safari shirt collar was too tightly done up for the ovary vote - which is VERY unlike Ola. Perhaps she didn't want her lady-sporran (in fetching turquoise this week) upstaged. You also got the sense from the ribbon fastenings that she might well have been going true, as well, which is... risky.

More probably, Ola was saving the pecs for an emergency, and relying on the tried and tested fashion mantra of tits or legs, with this week's focus on Steve's bottom half - indeed, never have the poo slacks been so successfully filled. (Oh dear, that came out wrong...) Basically I'm saying that Steve has a shapely posterior. And didn't he shake it well, if you'll forgive me for using Brucie phrasing, if not terminology.

One last thing, and a moment of great occasion if I'm right. Ladies and gentlemen, I *think* I heard Tess Daly finally successfully pronouncing "Ola Jordan". (“Oh-la”, no more!  Well, perhaps no more.) Well done TessTess! It's only taken a decade and a bit.

Much like writing/reading this blog, eh?

But worry not - we're nearly done though! Just a quick foray through Tess DressCanYouGuess? I don't think we can chalk up a mess here, frankly - I didn't love her white lightning bolts or paisley overload cocktail dresses, but there's no doubt that she's fixed her boob hoiking problems, so it's an overall success for me. In fact the paisley situation was quite something on the chest front - what a boosty difference an emphasising pattern makes.

Claudia also looked gorge-ia in a claret bat cape on Saturday and legs-out cream on Sunday. Turns out not wearing black doesn't impact her comedy powers - referring to Anton as a wooden racquet is one of her finest moments to date.

All that's left to bitch about is the pro-dance to Let It GOOOOOO, which involved wafting giant lady-hankies, backwards camera work and embarrassing icicles CGI, as well as hanging La ¡Manrara! from the ceiling by her arm (she is the strongest teeny woman EVER. I'm beginning to suspect she's actually Janette the Vampire Slayer). It was preposterous and tacky but also bloody brilliant in a WTAF kind of way.  I've not seen Frozen - more by circumstance than design - but if that's any indication, perhaps I'll join the four year olds and tantrum/insist on a Frozen-themed party for my next birthday, whereupon my guests will be treated to that performance on a loop for several hours. 

Oh my God, I think we might be done. Ye-owsers! Next week is Movie Week and we all have to brace ourselves for the TERRIBLE, TERRIBLENESS that is Donny Osmond in the form of a Guest Judge. (Did they learn NOTHING from Jennifer Grey?!?!) It's going to be disastrous, but we might as well just accept that it's happening, cause we're going to watch anyway. At least we've practiced our eyes-glazing-over skills over the Bruce years. That's if you have eyes left after making it this far. Cheers m'dears. Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep coping!