14 April 2011
It's Eurovision time!
I know it’s hard to get excited when Antony Costa is involved in a show, but COME ON! Eurovij is and will always be way bigger than the UK entry. Let’s face it, these days the UK entry is just the annoying grit in the Eurovision shoe – everything’s better once our song is over. So get ready to rip off your neon skirts and launch some fireworks to disguise a mediocre song choice – the 2011 country by country run down will be appearing over at www.strictlyeurovision.blogspot.com very soon!
31 January 2011
Strictly Live Tour 2011
Hello stakers! How have you been coping with the Strictly dearth? Don’t worry, I feel your pain too. Course, the Christmas special had its moments - not least Ronni Ancona coming across as an arrogant, sulky madam, before revealing herself as a rubbish dancer (ha!), and John Barrowman out-gaying even himself. But it just wasn’t quite the same as the series and that special fourteen week ‘journey’, was it? *sigh*. However, I went to see the live show with Louise on Friday night – and BOY WAS IT AWESOME! Yes, yes it was. FAB-U-ETC. I’ve gone a bit blog overboard on it, but bear with me, if you wish. Seriously, you don’t have to read it. I warn you now – it’s long. Maybe get a cuppa first, eh?
Anyway, to business – we’ll start with the line-up. It was mainly players from this year: Mattiona, PamJam, Patsy/Robin, Tiny Tina/Jared and Jimi Mistry, but dancing with Kristina rather than Flavia. And alongside that lot, were former finalist Colin Jackson, dancing with Ola not Erin, and last year’s Ricky Nipple/Natalie Lowe, who so clearly still haven’t got over losing out to Chris Hollins, and probably never will. My God – Whittle’s stench of arrogance and competitiveness and immodesty was just too much. And yet he got the second biggest cheers after Matt. I booed him, obviously. Kartem were also supposed to dance, but were both ill. I probably whispered ‘sex injury’ a little too loudly when that was announced - not sure how the couple seated next to us (the Daily Telegraph’s finest) took it. Oh well. They knew it was true.
Hosting duties were courtesy of Zoe Ball (another former finalist), who came on and did a slinky little dance routine with the male pros. She was wearing the BEST Strictly dress – floor length with a slit, tight (but not too tight – take note Daly), long sleeved/high necked/backless and made ENTIRELY of black shimmering sequins – whichever sewing mistress lost her fingers making it, it was worth it. And given that Zoe is nineteen foot tall, she looked incredible. In the second half, ZoBell appeared wearing a blood red version of the same dress, which I’m fairly sure she must have mugged a drag queen to get. Also incredible – though maybe not quite in the same way.
Len, Bruno and Craig were on judging duties, and though Dave Arch wasn’t in evidence, his wonderful orchestra were, including everyone’s favourite behatted bassist, Trevor. Interestingly, it was Len who shone in the live show – he was very funny indeed and made me ‘lol’ on a number of occasions. For example, Bruno was telling one of the male celebs (Jimi, I think) that he needed to tighten up his backside during the paso doble, so should try practising with a pound coin clenched between his buttocks – ew, but also excellent advice and so far, so Bruno. Then Len took over and agreed with the Tonioli advice, proclaiming “except in my day it was a threepenny bit, then I upgraded to half a crown.” Boom boom. No, honestly, it was very funny indeed – but perhaps you had to be there.
The format was much the same as the real show – each couple danced, got their comments from the judges, Zoe-Tess conducted an awkward interview, cue scores/applause. Goodman’s got a new catchphrase to add to “se-VEN” which is “From Len, A TEN.” Rhyming = always good.
First up was Colin Jackson, who was really quite disappointing – very stiff and no hip action whatsoever. I remember him being good back in the day, and I even thought he would win series 3, before he and Erin fell at the last hurdle (GEDDIT!?!?!??!?!), with that tacky show dance, where they pranced around in tuxes with be-ballgowned lady muppets (literally) strapped to their persons. Remember? Awful. What was Miss Whiplash thinking? (Probably Anton suggested that idea…) Anyway, on the upside (literally) Colin’s bottom is still extraordinarily pert – proper shelf.
Dancing aside, Colin and Ola’s performance did set up a moment of comedy gold. After Colin’s bottom had performed a spritely charcharcharrrr, Bruno told him off for not being sufficiently swivelly-hipped, and – being Bruno – proceeded to actively demonstrate how swivelly hip action should look and performed a series of pelvic thrusts into the camera, of which we all got a good close-up on the giant screens – with Bruno utterly oblivious to the fact that his flies were open. (36 inches and all that.) Fortunately though, Jimi Mistry, up next, had noticed that the Italian was flying low and took great delight in telling Bruno about his wardrobe malfunction. HOW WE LAUGHED! Seriously – it was brilliant, and not least because I have never seen Bruno look so mortified. (In fact I’m sure we were all convinced that Bruno didn’t have an embarrassed bone in his body. Oh dear, let’s swiftly move on from the image of any kind of bone in Bruno’s body. Ahem.) Anyway, Bruno looked down at his fly, mouthed ‘it’s true’ at the camera and proceeded to go bright red and fan his face with his hand, hysterically giggling away, then ducking under the desk in embarrassment. Craig, Len and Zoe Ball were openly pissing themselves – Craig was completely unable to speak he was laughing so hard. Needless to say, it was the highlight of the highlights and even kept Bruno calm for two or three dances, though he did end up doing a Louie Spence leg stretch while sitting on the desk – it’s no surprise that large-scale public humiliation won’t keep that man down for long.
As for the others, Tina and Jared are absolutely tiny and that’s all you need to know about them. (Seriously, so tiny it defied belief! Tina came across well, though, and Len called her Tina Teaspoon, which was utterly adorable/hilarious.) Jimi Mistry, I’m sad to say, remains fairly rubbish – a bit like Craig Kelly before him, he seems to think he’s actually quite good and the judges are being a bit unfair when they slate him – but in a more likeable way that Craig K. However, his Thriller paso was noteworthy, for Kristina’s outfit; a cape-skirt and sequined corset. As Lou commented, we’d never seen so much glitter-boob surface area – incredible.
The winner was decided by audience vote and I nearly texted my 25p’s worth of support to Patsy and Robin – WHO WAS WEARING THE POO SUIT!!! Whoop whoop! Yesssss. Imagine the scene – a sleeveless brown mancatsuit, slashed to the navel, with Robin’s giant pecs busting out of the pooey top half. That man’s wardrobe is a triumph! I’ll be gutted if he doesn’t return. The odd thing about Robin (apart from his face in general, of course) is that he’s so butch and gym bunny muscle-y that he actually looks like he’s got a pot belly. (Or maybe he’s got a pot belly?) Anyway, Pats and Bobby did that gorrrrrrrrrrrgeous waltz from the series that I lurrrrrrrrrved and it totally charmed me again.
Wanna know what DIDN’T charm me? Yes, that’s right. Nipple. Get over it, Ricky. Team Cola all the way! And surprise surprise, that arrogance overload meant that Ricky wasn’t sufficiently popular to win the live show either. ALTHOUGH, I will concede that he was really, really competent and probably turned in the best performance of the evening (yes, that surprised me too). It was an Argentine Tango (and it’s well documented that I’m a sucker for the AT), which started out, typical Lowe/Nipple style, all technique and no heart, but then somewhere along the way they found some passion and he threw her around a bit in a really tense and exciting way. So bravo to them – that was against the odds really (seeing as I loathe the pair of them). Still glad they didn’t win though – their other dance did nothing for me.
I have to say though, my feelings for Natalie wavered through the night. Readers, I nearly ended up liking her! Crazy talk. Basically, at the end, after a big old messy but fun group dance, when the celebs and pros were waving goodbye, shimmying and blowing kisses to the crowd, Natalie jumped over the barriers in front of us and beckoned to a little girl to come over for a hug – which was very sweet indeed and, despite her terrifying glare of RUTHLESS AMBITION, she seemed genuinely happy to greet and hug that little girl – and she totally didn’t have to. BUT THEN, just as I was relenting that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t this dead-eyed, desperate, LOOKATMELOOKATME fembot, the ‘real’ Natalie reappeared - the lights were dimming and all the dancers were leaving the stage, and Natalie just ‘happened’ to find herself on the wrong side of the arena and had to run the whole of the dancefloor to get to the exit – drawing everyone’s attention to her and her amazing endless legs – and trying to look modest and embarrassed (soooo faux), but in fact coming across as utterly delighted with herself. AS USUAL. You nearly fooled me, Lowe!
God I’d miss her if she left.
PamJam, oh PamJam – you were totally my favourites. Partly because they also did an Argentine Tango – the one that they would have performed in the Strictly final, had they not been rudely kicked off in third place. Their AT was several shades of awesome and they also did that sentimental but GORRRgeous waltz apparently based on the film Ghost (though they’d sadly failed to add the ghost-sticks-head-through-train scene). And though they were the best for me, it was Mattiona wot won it – apparently they’ve been winning every night of the tour. And it’s true that Matt was very good, if slightly boring. And still channelling the spirit of Fonzie and his thumbs. I’d have been really curious to see how Kartem would have fared though, if they hadn’t been sex-injured. But Matt did his back flips, so I was happy to see him crowned. Aliona’s choreography remains mental and her costumes remain slutsville, which is good.
Two other events of note that I’ve saved til last, as I was half hoping they’d have auto-wiped themselves from my memory. Brace yourselves. The half time entertainment was… well…. It was under the British Under-16s Latin Dance Troupe. I know. Wrong. But also, really very good at dancing. The main disturbance is the fact that the girls look about 22 and the boys look 12. Still, it’s quite hilarious to think that that was once James Jordan and Vinthent! Jared, of course, is still 12, so that should give you an idea.
The second event. Well, Widdecombe’s return. Oh yes. But Widders wasn’t dancing with Anton (he’s above the live show) and was instead partnered with Craig Revel Horwood himself. Wowsers. As you can imagine, it was a memorable performance. She came on to the dulcet sounds of My Heart Will Go On (who could forget her Titantic rumba?) and stomped around the stage a bit looking lost and calling ‘Annnnnnnnnton’, before Craig appeared and helped her through her Charleston – you could see that he was having trouble with the lifts, as there was some definite Revel-Horwood gurning going on. Seriously, credit to Anton for always looking so serene when he ‘effortlessly’ picked Ann up (or possibly credit to his botox administrator?). Anyway, I have to admit that both Lou and I chuckled merrily throughout the performance – in our defence we were probably high on hairspray fumes. And we’d had a cider each.
So there you have it folks. Truly good stuff throughout. And only, what, eight months to go before it all kicks off again! Hooray! Thank God Eurovision is fast approaching and will dull the lack of Strictly pain. (Blue though?!! Seriously, what? BLUE?? Etc.)
Byeeee xxx
Anyway, to business – we’ll start with the line-up. It was mainly players from this year: Mattiona, PamJam, Patsy/Robin, Tiny Tina/Jared and Jimi Mistry, but dancing with Kristina rather than Flavia. And alongside that lot, were former finalist Colin Jackson, dancing with Ola not Erin, and last year’s Ricky Nipple/Natalie Lowe, who so clearly still haven’t got over losing out to Chris Hollins, and probably never will. My God – Whittle’s stench of arrogance and competitiveness and immodesty was just too much. And yet he got the second biggest cheers after Matt. I booed him, obviously. Kartem were also supposed to dance, but were both ill. I probably whispered ‘sex injury’ a little too loudly when that was announced - not sure how the couple seated next to us (the Daily Telegraph’s finest) took it. Oh well. They knew it was true.
Hosting duties were courtesy of Zoe Ball (another former finalist), who came on and did a slinky little dance routine with the male pros. She was wearing the BEST Strictly dress – floor length with a slit, tight (but not too tight – take note Daly), long sleeved/high necked/backless and made ENTIRELY of black shimmering sequins – whichever sewing mistress lost her fingers making it, it was worth it. And given that Zoe is nineteen foot tall, she looked incredible. In the second half, ZoBell appeared wearing a blood red version of the same dress, which I’m fairly sure she must have mugged a drag queen to get. Also incredible – though maybe not quite in the same way.
Len, Bruno and Craig were on judging duties, and though Dave Arch wasn’t in evidence, his wonderful orchestra were, including everyone’s favourite behatted bassist, Trevor. Interestingly, it was Len who shone in the live show – he was very funny indeed and made me ‘lol’ on a number of occasions. For example, Bruno was telling one of the male celebs (Jimi, I think) that he needed to tighten up his backside during the paso doble, so should try practising with a pound coin clenched between his buttocks – ew, but also excellent advice and so far, so Bruno. Then Len took over and agreed with the Tonioli advice, proclaiming “except in my day it was a threepenny bit, then I upgraded to half a crown.” Boom boom. No, honestly, it was very funny indeed – but perhaps you had to be there.
The format was much the same as the real show – each couple danced, got their comments from the judges, Zoe-Tess conducted an awkward interview, cue scores/applause. Goodman’s got a new catchphrase to add to “se-VEN” which is “From Len, A TEN.” Rhyming = always good.
First up was Colin Jackson, who was really quite disappointing – very stiff and no hip action whatsoever. I remember him being good back in the day, and I even thought he would win series 3, before he and Erin fell at the last hurdle (GEDDIT!?!?!??!?!), with that tacky show dance, where they pranced around in tuxes with be-ballgowned lady muppets (literally) strapped to their persons. Remember? Awful. What was Miss Whiplash thinking? (Probably Anton suggested that idea…) Anyway, on the upside (literally) Colin’s bottom is still extraordinarily pert – proper shelf.
Dancing aside, Colin and Ola’s performance did set up a moment of comedy gold. After Colin’s bottom had performed a spritely charcharcharrrr, Bruno told him off for not being sufficiently swivelly-hipped, and – being Bruno – proceeded to actively demonstrate how swivelly hip action should look and performed a series of pelvic thrusts into the camera, of which we all got a good close-up on the giant screens – with Bruno utterly oblivious to the fact that his flies were open. (36 inches and all that.) Fortunately though, Jimi Mistry, up next, had noticed that the Italian was flying low and took great delight in telling Bruno about his wardrobe malfunction. HOW WE LAUGHED! Seriously – it was brilliant, and not least because I have never seen Bruno look so mortified. (In fact I’m sure we were all convinced that Bruno didn’t have an embarrassed bone in his body. Oh dear, let’s swiftly move on from the image of any kind of bone in Bruno’s body. Ahem.) Anyway, Bruno looked down at his fly, mouthed ‘it’s true’ at the camera and proceeded to go bright red and fan his face with his hand, hysterically giggling away, then ducking under the desk in embarrassment. Craig, Len and Zoe Ball were openly pissing themselves – Craig was completely unable to speak he was laughing so hard. Needless to say, it was the highlight of the highlights and even kept Bruno calm for two or three dances, though he did end up doing a Louie Spence leg stretch while sitting on the desk – it’s no surprise that large-scale public humiliation won’t keep that man down for long.
As for the others, Tina and Jared are absolutely tiny and that’s all you need to know about them. (Seriously, so tiny it defied belief! Tina came across well, though, and Len called her Tina Teaspoon, which was utterly adorable/hilarious.) Jimi Mistry, I’m sad to say, remains fairly rubbish – a bit like Craig Kelly before him, he seems to think he’s actually quite good and the judges are being a bit unfair when they slate him – but in a more likeable way that Craig K. However, his Thriller paso was noteworthy, for Kristina’s outfit; a cape-skirt and sequined corset. As Lou commented, we’d never seen so much glitter-boob surface area – incredible.
The winner was decided by audience vote and I nearly texted my 25p’s worth of support to Patsy and Robin – WHO WAS WEARING THE POO SUIT!!! Whoop whoop! Yesssss. Imagine the scene – a sleeveless brown mancatsuit, slashed to the navel, with Robin’s giant pecs busting out of the pooey top half. That man’s wardrobe is a triumph! I’ll be gutted if he doesn’t return. The odd thing about Robin (apart from his face in general, of course) is that he’s so butch and gym bunny muscle-y that he actually looks like he’s got a pot belly. (Or maybe he’s got a pot belly?) Anyway, Pats and Bobby did that gorrrrrrrrrrrgeous waltz from the series that I lurrrrrrrrrved and it totally charmed me again.
Wanna know what DIDN’T charm me? Yes, that’s right. Nipple. Get over it, Ricky. Team Cola all the way! And surprise surprise, that arrogance overload meant that Ricky wasn’t sufficiently popular to win the live show either. ALTHOUGH, I will concede that he was really, really competent and probably turned in the best performance of the evening (yes, that surprised me too). It was an Argentine Tango (and it’s well documented that I’m a sucker for the AT), which started out, typical Lowe/Nipple style, all technique and no heart, but then somewhere along the way they found some passion and he threw her around a bit in a really tense and exciting way. So bravo to them – that was against the odds really (seeing as I loathe the pair of them). Still glad they didn’t win though – their other dance did nothing for me.
I have to say though, my feelings for Natalie wavered through the night. Readers, I nearly ended up liking her! Crazy talk. Basically, at the end, after a big old messy but fun group dance, when the celebs and pros were waving goodbye, shimmying and blowing kisses to the crowd, Natalie jumped over the barriers in front of us and beckoned to a little girl to come over for a hug – which was very sweet indeed and, despite her terrifying glare of RUTHLESS AMBITION, she seemed genuinely happy to greet and hug that little girl – and she totally didn’t have to. BUT THEN, just as I was relenting that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t this dead-eyed, desperate, LOOKATMELOOKATME fembot, the ‘real’ Natalie reappeared - the lights were dimming and all the dancers were leaving the stage, and Natalie just ‘happened’ to find herself on the wrong side of the arena and had to run the whole of the dancefloor to get to the exit – drawing everyone’s attention to her and her amazing endless legs – and trying to look modest and embarrassed (soooo faux), but in fact coming across as utterly delighted with herself. AS USUAL. You nearly fooled me, Lowe!
God I’d miss her if she left.
PamJam, oh PamJam – you were totally my favourites. Partly because they also did an Argentine Tango – the one that they would have performed in the Strictly final, had they not been rudely kicked off in third place. Their AT was several shades of awesome and they also did that sentimental but GORRRgeous waltz apparently based on the film Ghost (though they’d sadly failed to add the ghost-sticks-head-through-train scene). And though they were the best for me, it was Mattiona wot won it – apparently they’ve been winning every night of the tour. And it’s true that Matt was very good, if slightly boring. And still channelling the spirit of Fonzie and his thumbs. I’d have been really curious to see how Kartem would have fared though, if they hadn’t been sex-injured. But Matt did his back flips, so I was happy to see him crowned. Aliona’s choreography remains mental and her costumes remain slutsville, which is good.
Two other events of note that I’ve saved til last, as I was half hoping they’d have auto-wiped themselves from my memory. Brace yourselves. The half time entertainment was… well…. It was under the British Under-16s Latin Dance Troupe. I know. Wrong. But also, really very good at dancing. The main disturbance is the fact that the girls look about 22 and the boys look 12. Still, it’s quite hilarious to think that that was once James Jordan and Vinthent! Jared, of course, is still 12, so that should give you an idea.
The second event. Well, Widdecombe’s return. Oh yes. But Widders wasn’t dancing with Anton (he’s above the live show) and was instead partnered with Craig Revel Horwood himself. Wowsers. As you can imagine, it was a memorable performance. She came on to the dulcet sounds of My Heart Will Go On (who could forget her Titantic rumba?) and stomped around the stage a bit looking lost and calling ‘Annnnnnnnnton’, before Craig appeared and helped her through her Charleston – you could see that he was having trouble with the lifts, as there was some definite Revel-Horwood gurning going on. Seriously, credit to Anton for always looking so serene when he ‘effortlessly’ picked Ann up (or possibly credit to his botox administrator?). Anyway, I have to admit that both Lou and I chuckled merrily throughout the performance – in our defence we were probably high on hairspray fumes. And we’d had a cider each.
So there you have it folks. Truly good stuff throughout. And only, what, eight months to go before it all kicks off again! Hooray! Thank God Eurovision is fast approaching and will dull the lack of Strictly pain. (Blue though?!! Seriously, what? BLUE?? Etc.)
Byeeee xxx
20 December 2010
The Grand Final!
Strictly Come Dancing – The Final – Saturday, Dec 18th 2010
“Let’s get ready to Rumba!”
Indeed. The rather naff (and, in the case of Anton du Beke, woefully miscast) opening number by the Strictly Professionals to Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” was obviously intended to increase our anticipation for the final Ballroom Blitz, but if even Brendan, the butchest of the male professionals, could look no butcher than Louis Spence throwing a hissy fit at the state of Pineapple Studios’ toilets, then you know that something has been horribly misconceived.
And as for the poor celebrities: forced to wear those Boxer’s capes which simply looked like dressing gowns hastily thrown on to go and answer the front door to the postman. What were the show’s creative team thinking??
The whole Rocky theme was contrived, it seemed, simply to afford Len “Twinkle Toes” Goodman the opportunity to utter that opening line (which was at least genuinely amusing).
Even the delectable Tess “Not-Cat-Deeley” Daly looked like she had been hastily called from the shower and hadn’t had time to finish doing her hair, which seemed to be hanging off her beautiful head in three awful clumps, held together with elastic bands. At least her dress looked suitably glamorous: a bit “Flash Gordon-y” perhaps, but in its white and silver sparkle it did combine the feel of Christmas with the glitz of the Strictly Come Dancing Final.
Our final three teams, Matt and Aliona, Pamela and James and Kara and Artem were to be performing FOUR dances over the course of the evening; including the hotly anticipated Show Dance. The excitement in the studio was palpable and poor old Brucie was stumbling over his lines even more than usual.
First up was Team Mattiona, performing again the Samba they had pulled off with such aplomb in Blackpool. Two things struck me during the obligatory gurn to camera as their names were called out prior to us taking “a look at them in training”: first of all, Matt’s nose seems to have become even more bent across his face – it looked like a banana veering away from his eyebrows towards his cheek. Second of all, I am sure he has had some work done on his teeth which were looking dazzingly white this evening! Anyway, the dance – including that dazzling trio of back flips - didn’t disappoint and the judges’ comments were unanimously favourable. Even Craig had to apologise in advance that his remarks were going to be “all good I’m afraid”. The pair scored a very respectable 38 out of 40, which is pretty much the benchmark for Grand Final week – the flint-hearted Craig tending to hover around the 9 mark with his own scores.
Then we had our first look at the hot favourites, Kara and Artem, who failed to make any attempt at hiding that they are just waiting for the series to finish so that they can get stuck into each other. This despite the fact that Artem seems more – not less – gay since they were outed as a couple-in-waiting some weeks ago. Maybe it’s another reworking of the Showbiz Marriage template in which the husband gives the wife credibility whilst she makes him look hetero? (Mere conjecture on my part, of course). Anyway, Kara referred in her VTR to her burning desire to “lift the glitterball” with Artem and the pair of them wept their way through their interviews like a couple of emotionally incontinent teenagers. Or Ian Beale in any week in Albert Square.
Brucie was beside himself with anticipation of course, and in a moment of toe-curling embarrassment, completely fluffed his gag on the recurring theme of his older man’s yearning for the lithe and extremely lovely Kara. Alas, I cannot remember how the joke was supposed to have gone as I was too busy biting the knuckle of my index finger in horror.
Their dance, the Rumba, was sublime. They scored 39 out of 40 and I thoroughly concurred with Bruno’s description of it as a “glorious” dance of “hypnotic beauty”. My one personal niggle was with their outfits: to me they looked like a couple of office co-workers at the Christmas party who have had too much to drink and decided to loosen up their clothing a bit.
I loved Brucie’s comeback to Craig’s reference to their inclusion of an illegal lift (“I bet you’ve never had one of those!”) and it confirmed to me that Mr Forsythe is still at his best when delivering off-the-cuff one-liners. Why the producers insist on feeding him these awful gags between routines all the time is beyond me.
Finally, the couple in whom I had invested so much (well, £1 to be honest with you): Team PamJam. Apart from them being the pair that I had had the good fortune to be allocated for the Strictly Sweepstake, I have found their “Strictly Journey” to be the most compelling. Being old enough to remember Pamela as the blonde bombshell on “Not the Nine O’Clock News”, it has been a delight to see her back in the Public Eye and dancing so beautifully for someone who is, as so gallantly pointed out by James, older than Matt and Kara combined!
Pam and James gave us their beautiful Viennese Waltz and once again received the perfect score.
The only thing that spoiled it for me was another incidence of the atrocious editing of the songs for their strictly timed routines. At one point – towards the emotional climax of the piece – the singer delivered the extraordinary lyric: “I need your love to me”. Do they think we won’t notice such nonsense?!
Anyway, the dance was performed with exquisite grace and poise and Pammie duly gave the judges her weekly oh-so-humble “thank you’s” and then thanked, as she never forgets to do, all the voters who have been keeping her in.
Now it was time for the Show Dances! (Woo-hoo!)
Remember, “Strictly” fans, the First Rule of Show Dance is…. there are NO rules!
Again, Matt was up first, looking like a spangly farmhand dancing around a couple of spangly bales of hay. I have to say, I thought the lifts and acrobatics were breathtaking, but agreed with the consensus that there was not enough dance content here. Len, to be fair, had spotted “a little bit of cha-cha-cha over there” but, by and large, the feeling was that this was essentially just a showcase for Matt’s gymnastic skills. Despite a controversial 7 from Craig, nobody else dared to drop below a 9 so he scored a decent 34 out of 40 for his efforts.
Kara and Artem (she dressed up like Evil Kenevil; he like a camp Freddy Mercury) then have us their interpretation of Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”. So, Kara can do back flips too; who knew? However, it was clear as soon as she had completed that sequence that something was wrong. Whatever happened to her was not caught on camera, but by the time she was back on her feet she seemed lost and the choreography fell apart for a few beats – Kara appeared to be walking around, Scott Maslen-like, not really knowing where she was. It is credit to her courage and all-round showbiz spirit that, despite being visibly concerned about something, she got herself back into the routine and finished with the same gusto with which she had started the number. It was just unfortunate that by now they were a couple of bars out and so the grand finish (with Kara pulling a lever to shower her and Artem with silvery glittery bits) came after the music had stopped. Oh dear. What was it that had happened? One lift too many? Too challenging a routine? The judges were, rightly I think, sympathetic and gave her a generous score (36 out of 40). I at first thought she might have been worried about popping out of her dress (she nearly did!) but it was clear from the way her right arm was hanging off her like a badly-fitted prosthetic that she had hurt herself in some way. Tess either didn’t notice it or was refusing to allow it to get in the way of her prepared questions (“What are you going to do with your weekends now that “Strictly” has finished?” Phnaar! Phnaar!). I, however, would be watching with some anxiety for the rest of the evening……
Finally in the Show Dance section, came Pamela and James. Pamela, looking beautiful in a flowing blue outfit, danced effortlessly to what was, it must be said, a terrific song choice (“I’ve had the time of my life” from “Dirty Dancing”). It did, of course, set up the expectation that they might (Good Heavens!) actually perform THAT lift so when, inevitably, it didn’t come, we all felt a little cheated. And there was more lyrical butchery in this routine (“You’re the one thing……this could be love”), but it was as good as one would have expected from this couple: more dancey and less showy than the previous two, but it was a nice mix of ballroom skills and had some very clever choregroaphy by James (I’m quoting the judges here – I’m no expert). There was one unfortunate little stumble and a really rather shocking glimpse of Pam’s blue knickers at the ending, but the overall effect was extremely pleasing and they were awarded a creditable 37 out of 40.
So that was Part One over. The scores finely balanced:
PamJam at the top of the Leaderboard on 77, followed by Kartem on 75 and Mattiona on 72.
But, as we were reminded at several points throughout the evening, the judges scores were “for guidance only”. It was still anybody’s to win.
Part Two started with the same breathless excitement that Part One had ended with. Indeed, Brucie sounded almost like he was having a heart attack as he attempted to deliver his opening address to the audience. Tess at least had found the time to sort her hair out and was looking beautiful again – if a little slouchy.
There was no hanging around. It was straight into the first vote-off and tragically (she looked so beautiful and keen to do her Argentine Tango) it was finally Pamela’s time to leave the competition. If I’m honest, it was the right choice and I think everyone knew it was going to happen. The romantic in me likes to think that the judges put her at the top of their scores as they knew she would not win the public vote.
So that was that. A quick trawl through her “Strictly Best Bits” and one last fluttering of her eyelids and PamJam was no more.
Time for the final stretch; Matt and Kara would be dancing to the finish.
Matt started with a Paso Doble to the song, “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood” which had been subjected to an interesting “Mexification” in its musical arrangement. We saw another glimpse of his “competitive streak” during the preceding VTR; in other words, he had another little hissy fit: this time at his own feet! But the dance itself was very commendable, scoring a 35 from the judges. Personally, I’m not sure it contained the requisite Passion, or Duende, but it was good enough and Matt looked very dashing in his black bolero jacket with red shoulder patches. Aliona just looked very, erm, RED!
Kara gave us a beautiful Waltz, looking graceful in a soft, flowing dress. There was a slightly odd note introduced at the beginning of the routine when Artem picked up the hem of the dress as though he was trying to have a peak at what was underneath, but other than my own concern about poor Kara’s arm, the dance was exquisite and scored a 38 from the judging panel.
We then had a reunion of all this season’s contestants (and enjoyed yet more of Tess’s probing interviewing skills: “So, Felicity, have you missed doing the splits?”) while Matt and Kara prepared for their final dances.
So here it was, the final round; just two of them left. As Matt had said in an earlier VTR: “To be the last man standing is amazing, but to be the last one standing… that would be something else” (No – I didn’t think it was a particularly inspired speech either).
But who was it going to be? (Was anyone really in any doubt at this stage??)
Matt went for a quick knock out punch with a fast paced Viennese Waltz (scoring 37 out of 40). Kara countered with an even faster American Smooth, also scoring 37 – despite wincing in agony all the way through and a controversial 7 out of 10 from Craig.
It was all finely poised. We waited with baited breath, pretending not to know who was going to be anointed the new Champion while the “Waiting Music” did its best to crank up the tension……
And the winner is………….
Catherine!! (For it was she who had secured Team Kartem in the Strictly Sweepstake.
My congratulations to her (I believe she has taken her winnings and is enjoying a well-earned victory holiday in France, but she promises that the money “won’t change” her.
Thanks to all of you for taking part in this year’s little flutter and I hope I have managed to do an adequate job filling Catherine’s shoes while she is off spending her fourteen pounds (or the Euro equivalent).
Until next year then.
That is all.
Dan
“Let’s get ready to Rumba!”
Indeed. The rather naff (and, in the case of Anton du Beke, woefully miscast) opening number by the Strictly Professionals to Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” was obviously intended to increase our anticipation for the final Ballroom Blitz, but if even Brendan, the butchest of the male professionals, could look no butcher than Louis Spence throwing a hissy fit at the state of Pineapple Studios’ toilets, then you know that something has been horribly misconceived.
And as for the poor celebrities: forced to wear those Boxer’s capes which simply looked like dressing gowns hastily thrown on to go and answer the front door to the postman. What were the show’s creative team thinking??
The whole Rocky theme was contrived, it seemed, simply to afford Len “Twinkle Toes” Goodman the opportunity to utter that opening line (which was at least genuinely amusing).
Even the delectable Tess “Not-Cat-Deeley” Daly looked like she had been hastily called from the shower and hadn’t had time to finish doing her hair, which seemed to be hanging off her beautiful head in three awful clumps, held together with elastic bands. At least her dress looked suitably glamorous: a bit “Flash Gordon-y” perhaps, but in its white and silver sparkle it did combine the feel of Christmas with the glitz of the Strictly Come Dancing Final.
Our final three teams, Matt and Aliona, Pamela and James and Kara and Artem were to be performing FOUR dances over the course of the evening; including the hotly anticipated Show Dance. The excitement in the studio was palpable and poor old Brucie was stumbling over his lines even more than usual.
First up was Team Mattiona, performing again the Samba they had pulled off with such aplomb in Blackpool. Two things struck me during the obligatory gurn to camera as their names were called out prior to us taking “a look at them in training”: first of all, Matt’s nose seems to have become even more bent across his face – it looked like a banana veering away from his eyebrows towards his cheek. Second of all, I am sure he has had some work done on his teeth which were looking dazzingly white this evening! Anyway, the dance – including that dazzling trio of back flips - didn’t disappoint and the judges’ comments were unanimously favourable. Even Craig had to apologise in advance that his remarks were going to be “all good I’m afraid”. The pair scored a very respectable 38 out of 40, which is pretty much the benchmark for Grand Final week – the flint-hearted Craig tending to hover around the 9 mark with his own scores.
Then we had our first look at the hot favourites, Kara and Artem, who failed to make any attempt at hiding that they are just waiting for the series to finish so that they can get stuck into each other. This despite the fact that Artem seems more – not less – gay since they were outed as a couple-in-waiting some weeks ago. Maybe it’s another reworking of the Showbiz Marriage template in which the husband gives the wife credibility whilst she makes him look hetero? (Mere conjecture on my part, of course). Anyway, Kara referred in her VTR to her burning desire to “lift the glitterball” with Artem and the pair of them wept their way through their interviews like a couple of emotionally incontinent teenagers. Or Ian Beale in any week in Albert Square.
Brucie was beside himself with anticipation of course, and in a moment of toe-curling embarrassment, completely fluffed his gag on the recurring theme of his older man’s yearning for the lithe and extremely lovely Kara. Alas, I cannot remember how the joke was supposed to have gone as I was too busy biting the knuckle of my index finger in horror.
Their dance, the Rumba, was sublime. They scored 39 out of 40 and I thoroughly concurred with Bruno’s description of it as a “glorious” dance of “hypnotic beauty”. My one personal niggle was with their outfits: to me they looked like a couple of office co-workers at the Christmas party who have had too much to drink and decided to loosen up their clothing a bit.
I loved Brucie’s comeback to Craig’s reference to their inclusion of an illegal lift (“I bet you’ve never had one of those!”) and it confirmed to me that Mr Forsythe is still at his best when delivering off-the-cuff one-liners. Why the producers insist on feeding him these awful gags between routines all the time is beyond me.
Finally, the couple in whom I had invested so much (well, £1 to be honest with you): Team PamJam. Apart from them being the pair that I had had the good fortune to be allocated for the Strictly Sweepstake, I have found their “Strictly Journey” to be the most compelling. Being old enough to remember Pamela as the blonde bombshell on “Not the Nine O’Clock News”, it has been a delight to see her back in the Public Eye and dancing so beautifully for someone who is, as so gallantly pointed out by James, older than Matt and Kara combined!
Pam and James gave us their beautiful Viennese Waltz and once again received the perfect score.
The only thing that spoiled it for me was another incidence of the atrocious editing of the songs for their strictly timed routines. At one point – towards the emotional climax of the piece – the singer delivered the extraordinary lyric: “I need your love to me”. Do they think we won’t notice such nonsense?!
Anyway, the dance was performed with exquisite grace and poise and Pammie duly gave the judges her weekly oh-so-humble “thank you’s” and then thanked, as she never forgets to do, all the voters who have been keeping her in.
Now it was time for the Show Dances! (Woo-hoo!)
Remember, “Strictly” fans, the First Rule of Show Dance is…. there are NO rules!
Again, Matt was up first, looking like a spangly farmhand dancing around a couple of spangly bales of hay. I have to say, I thought the lifts and acrobatics were breathtaking, but agreed with the consensus that there was not enough dance content here. Len, to be fair, had spotted “a little bit of cha-cha-cha over there” but, by and large, the feeling was that this was essentially just a showcase for Matt’s gymnastic skills. Despite a controversial 7 from Craig, nobody else dared to drop below a 9 so he scored a decent 34 out of 40 for his efforts.
Kara and Artem (she dressed up like Evil Kenevil; he like a camp Freddy Mercury) then have us their interpretation of Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”. So, Kara can do back flips too; who knew? However, it was clear as soon as she had completed that sequence that something was wrong. Whatever happened to her was not caught on camera, but by the time she was back on her feet she seemed lost and the choreography fell apart for a few beats – Kara appeared to be walking around, Scott Maslen-like, not really knowing where she was. It is credit to her courage and all-round showbiz spirit that, despite being visibly concerned about something, she got herself back into the routine and finished with the same gusto with which she had started the number. It was just unfortunate that by now they were a couple of bars out and so the grand finish (with Kara pulling a lever to shower her and Artem with silvery glittery bits) came after the music had stopped. Oh dear. What was it that had happened? One lift too many? Too challenging a routine? The judges were, rightly I think, sympathetic and gave her a generous score (36 out of 40). I at first thought she might have been worried about popping out of her dress (she nearly did!) but it was clear from the way her right arm was hanging off her like a badly-fitted prosthetic that she had hurt herself in some way. Tess either didn’t notice it or was refusing to allow it to get in the way of her prepared questions (“What are you going to do with your weekends now that “Strictly” has finished?” Phnaar! Phnaar!). I, however, would be watching with some anxiety for the rest of the evening……
Finally in the Show Dance section, came Pamela and James. Pamela, looking beautiful in a flowing blue outfit, danced effortlessly to what was, it must be said, a terrific song choice (“I’ve had the time of my life” from “Dirty Dancing”). It did, of course, set up the expectation that they might (Good Heavens!) actually perform THAT lift so when, inevitably, it didn’t come, we all felt a little cheated. And there was more lyrical butchery in this routine (“You’re the one thing……this could be love”), but it was as good as one would have expected from this couple: more dancey and less showy than the previous two, but it was a nice mix of ballroom skills and had some very clever choregroaphy by James (I’m quoting the judges here – I’m no expert). There was one unfortunate little stumble and a really rather shocking glimpse of Pam’s blue knickers at the ending, but the overall effect was extremely pleasing and they were awarded a creditable 37 out of 40.
So that was Part One over. The scores finely balanced:
PamJam at the top of the Leaderboard on 77, followed by Kartem on 75 and Mattiona on 72.
But, as we were reminded at several points throughout the evening, the judges scores were “for guidance only”. It was still anybody’s to win.
Part Two started with the same breathless excitement that Part One had ended with. Indeed, Brucie sounded almost like he was having a heart attack as he attempted to deliver his opening address to the audience. Tess at least had found the time to sort her hair out and was looking beautiful again – if a little slouchy.
There was no hanging around. It was straight into the first vote-off and tragically (she looked so beautiful and keen to do her Argentine Tango) it was finally Pamela’s time to leave the competition. If I’m honest, it was the right choice and I think everyone knew it was going to happen. The romantic in me likes to think that the judges put her at the top of their scores as they knew she would not win the public vote.
So that was that. A quick trawl through her “Strictly Best Bits” and one last fluttering of her eyelids and PamJam was no more.
Time for the final stretch; Matt and Kara would be dancing to the finish.
Matt started with a Paso Doble to the song, “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood” which had been subjected to an interesting “Mexification” in its musical arrangement. We saw another glimpse of his “competitive streak” during the preceding VTR; in other words, he had another little hissy fit: this time at his own feet! But the dance itself was very commendable, scoring a 35 from the judges. Personally, I’m not sure it contained the requisite Passion, or Duende, but it was good enough and Matt looked very dashing in his black bolero jacket with red shoulder patches. Aliona just looked very, erm, RED!
Kara gave us a beautiful Waltz, looking graceful in a soft, flowing dress. There was a slightly odd note introduced at the beginning of the routine when Artem picked up the hem of the dress as though he was trying to have a peak at what was underneath, but other than my own concern about poor Kara’s arm, the dance was exquisite and scored a 38 from the judging panel.
We then had a reunion of all this season’s contestants (and enjoyed yet more of Tess’s probing interviewing skills: “So, Felicity, have you missed doing the splits?”) while Matt and Kara prepared for their final dances.
So here it was, the final round; just two of them left. As Matt had said in an earlier VTR: “To be the last man standing is amazing, but to be the last one standing… that would be something else” (No – I didn’t think it was a particularly inspired speech either).
But who was it going to be? (Was anyone really in any doubt at this stage??)
Matt went for a quick knock out punch with a fast paced Viennese Waltz (scoring 37 out of 40). Kara countered with an even faster American Smooth, also scoring 37 – despite wincing in agony all the way through and a controversial 7 out of 10 from Craig.
It was all finely poised. We waited with baited breath, pretending not to know who was going to be anointed the new Champion while the “Waiting Music” did its best to crank up the tension……
And the winner is………….
Catherine!! (For it was she who had secured Team Kartem in the Strictly Sweepstake.
My congratulations to her (I believe she has taken her winnings and is enjoying a well-earned victory holiday in France, but she promises that the money “won’t change” her.
Thanks to all of you for taking part in this year’s little flutter and I hope I have managed to do an adequate job filling Catherine’s shoes while she is off spending her fourteen pounds (or the Euro equivalent).
Until next year then.
That is all.
Dan
13 December 2010
Semi Final
Well, that was all quite tense really – Gavin aside, anyone could have made that final, but in the end, for me, the right three went through. So well done Kara, Pamelar and Matt, la diva (more on strop-gate later).
Firstly, goodbye poor Sssssscott, and our lovely Louise. When Scott was good, he was very, very good, but overall he was sadly inconsistent. I felt like he half gave up after his cracking jive; he just seemed so knackered (I know I would be). I thought he did well with the Argentine tango and Charleston, but, for me, it was Natalie who let the side down - not because she is an emotionless fembot programmed only to DANCE and WIN (and probably to KILL in the name of dancing and winning), but because I wasn’t very impressed by her professional Argentine tango or Charleston abilities – oh miaow. (But it’s true.) Obviously, she is an EXCELLENT, if ice-cold, dancer, but neither of those dances seemed to suit her – too tall and Aussie-looking for tango (and what was that awful synthetic yellow hair piece about?), and too controlled and precise for Charleston, IMO. She just couldn’t nail the goofiness. In a way, it’s a shame, as I did like Sssssssscott and I didn’t even loathe Natalie as much as last year (I’ll blame Ricky Nipple for that), but what can you do if the public isn't there for you? Imagine the tension if there had been a dance off? OMG, hypothetically AMAZING. Still, even sans dance off, we've interestingly managed to end up with three quality dancers in the final... (Hahaha, "sans dance off" - oh the pretention! Not deleting it though, you'll note.)
And at least Scott went out wearing a sailor’s outfit. Remind you of anyone?
As for Gavin.... Oh Gavin. He tried, didn’t he? And I would never have predicted that he’d get so far – no way. Ultimately, I’ll always have fond memories of Gavin Henson on Strictly – he was a charisma-less orange hunky munt with no discernable dancing talent, but boy he made me laugh. I think his proclamation of love for Peter Andre was my moment of the series. Well done Gavin, well done. I salute you and your total lack of expression and comprehension at every stage of the process. He really is a man born to have other men run directly at him and jump on his head. Isabelle's £1 loss is Saracens' gain.
In retrospect though, I don’t think the ladies were ever in too much danger – Pamelar and Karar dance beautifully, have genuine chemistry with their partners (be it friendly or more-than-friendly) and have benefitted from some kind of journey/story arc, whether naturally or by edited design. I can never really take the rumba seriously, so am just going to skirt over Kartem's 'vertical expression of a horizontal desire' (thank you Vinthent) and Kara's little trip to Bad Hair Extension City, but I thought the Gone With The Wind-esque Viennese waltz was veeeery preeeety. However, Kara definitely had both feet off the floor when Artem spun her round, and it was therefore a LIFT, whatever Len says he say. He is old, though, and probably too vain to wear specs.
I also loved PamJam’s Gaga doble– totally nuts, but not in a random WTF Aliona way. We were discussing James Jordan’s choreography in the Cad household and we’ve come to the conclusion that James is really very good at pitching the dance exactly right each week – he’s a purist in terms of the steps and the feel, making sure each dance fits with what is conventionally expected, which Len likes, but also gives it enough of a story for Craig’s theatrical tastes. I must be mellowing in my old age – two years ago I could not bear James (or Ola!), and now I’m all pom-poms at the ready, go Jordans go.
Now then, Matt-gate. Well that was a rollercoaster, wasn’t it? (Well, maybe less of a rollercoaster and more of an average working see-saw.) First of all Matt and Aliona salsa-ed, which was fine, but nothing amazing; Matt wore pale yellow satin, Aliona wore a boob tube. Fine. Whatevs. But THEN, up Matt went to the mark, sweaty and expectant, and the judges DESTROYED him - which made everyone think ‘hang on a second, it wasn’t THAT bad! What’s all that about? That seems a bit harsh...’ THEN Tess did her interview of joy, where it became apparent that Matt was too gutted to even speak and was basically trying not to cry – even Tess seemed to notice that he wasn’t too happy, and didn’t lay into him in her usual delightful catty Tess way. And THEN, as we saw on Sunday’s recap, MATT STORMED OFF – NO BACKSTAGE INTERVIEW! NO ALIONA! GOSH!
Thing is, even though I’m putting lots of capital letters in there, to desperately try and up the drama, the fact remains that we didn’t really see much of the backstage strop (which was less flouncing and more walking away quickly, looking really upset) and we were probably all still too busy thinking about how unfair the judges had been (they have him just more point than Gavin’s hot mess samba!) The real drama came on Sunday though, when Matt had to TANGO FOR HIS LIFE, and that really was tense – I even went and sat up close to my TV to watch it, which I only usually do for a Vinthent-based pro-dance. And it was rather excellent, I thought – I wouldn’t have pitched a tango to Hung Up personally, but it was a good (rare) example of where Aliona’s slightly odd choreography actually works.
And at least Mattiona came second in the Swingathon, which was all a bit messy and random really. I didn’t hate it, but I did wonder what the point was. All I could really see was a load of petticoats and legs flailing, Gavin Henson looking lost and James Jordan apparently off to post-Swingathon darts match.
Costume-watch continues, though no crackers this week I didn't think. I've often meant to mention Alesha at this point, she usually wears something a wee bit odd (like a bling tutu or a ring the size of a satsuma), but I always forget - I think it's because she’s so very gorgeous that she generally gets away with her crazy fashion choices. Also, she’s usually upstaged by Tess Dress Mess. This week though, Tess’ dresses were fine, if dull - though arguably inoffensiveness is the worst fashion crime of all on a show like Strictly. (It was all a bit catalogue, darling.) But I did think that her Saturday night electric blue/one shoulder number could have been a size or two bigger – when you’re slim anyway, as la Daly is, it’s always better to upsize and avoid a visible spanx line. As for the rest, Katya wore a bright red bejewelled tent (pregnant? Please not Gavin’s) and Aliona brought out the big guns – not sure where she’d been hiding them during the rest of the series, but there they were, dangerously near the edge of her corset, ready to salsa. Perhaps that’s what distracted Matt.
Oh God, I’d nearly managed to wipe this from my memory, and I do apologise for bringing it up, but WHY OH WHY OH WHY are we subjected EVERY YEAR to Bruce ‘singing’ and ‘dancing’. It is just NOT ON. His jokes are bad enough – why can’t they just let things lie? And poor Ola, who had to run around on stage cheekily blowing kisses at him, dressed as Goldilocks, in a dress made of horrible lacy blue tights. WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT? Awful. It would have been distinctly preferable to have Ann back on, dancing with Peter Shilton. And that’s not a threat I make lightly. Still, there's every hope that Bruce will have retired by next year. Keep the faith.
Now then, readers, some sad news - I will not be able to watch the final on Saturday. Tragic, I know. It’s because I’ll be in France ski-ing – do your hearts bleed? So I won’t be able to blog either, I’m afraid, but fear not, because Dan (you know, PamJam Dan) has kindly agreed to guest blog the final for me! Thanks Dan – though obviously for sweepstake purposes, I hate you, and may Kara annihilate Pamela and Matt (am looking at you Essi) on the night. Let the prize be miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine! Etc etc.
Thanks for all your lovely emails and comments these past few months – it’s been a blast discussing all these very serious and important issues with you all, and please feel free to text me live updates this Saturday (won’t be near email or Twitter though). I’ll probably be back for a Series 8 retrospective in early 2011 and then I’ll sit at home crying until Series 9 starts. Thank yooooooou byeeeee xx
Firstly, goodbye poor Sssssscott, and our lovely Louise. When Scott was good, he was very, very good, but overall he was sadly inconsistent. I felt like he half gave up after his cracking jive; he just seemed so knackered (I know I would be). I thought he did well with the Argentine tango and Charleston, but, for me, it was Natalie who let the side down - not because she is an emotionless fembot programmed only to DANCE and WIN (and probably to KILL in the name of dancing and winning), but because I wasn’t very impressed by her professional Argentine tango or Charleston abilities – oh miaow. (But it’s true.) Obviously, she is an EXCELLENT, if ice-cold, dancer, but neither of those dances seemed to suit her – too tall and Aussie-looking for tango (and what was that awful synthetic yellow hair piece about?), and too controlled and precise for Charleston, IMO. She just couldn’t nail the goofiness. In a way, it’s a shame, as I did like Sssssssscott and I didn’t even loathe Natalie as much as last year (I’ll blame Ricky Nipple for that), but what can you do if the public isn't there for you? Imagine the tension if there had been a dance off? OMG, hypothetically AMAZING. Still, even sans dance off, we've interestingly managed to end up with three quality dancers in the final... (Hahaha, "sans dance off" - oh the pretention! Not deleting it though, you'll note.)
And at least Scott went out wearing a sailor’s outfit. Remind you of anyone?
As for Gavin.... Oh Gavin. He tried, didn’t he? And I would never have predicted that he’d get so far – no way. Ultimately, I’ll always have fond memories of Gavin Henson on Strictly – he was a charisma-less orange hunky munt with no discernable dancing talent, but boy he made me laugh. I think his proclamation of love for Peter Andre was my moment of the series. Well done Gavin, well done. I salute you and your total lack of expression and comprehension at every stage of the process. He really is a man born to have other men run directly at him and jump on his head. Isabelle's £1 loss is Saracens' gain.
In retrospect though, I don’t think the ladies were ever in too much danger – Pamelar and Karar dance beautifully, have genuine chemistry with their partners (be it friendly or more-than-friendly) and have benefitted from some kind of journey/story arc, whether naturally or by edited design. I can never really take the rumba seriously, so am just going to skirt over Kartem's 'vertical expression of a horizontal desire' (thank you Vinthent) and Kara's little trip to Bad Hair Extension City, but I thought the Gone With The Wind-esque Viennese waltz was veeeery preeeety. However, Kara definitely had both feet off the floor when Artem spun her round, and it was therefore a LIFT, whatever Len says he say. He is old, though, and probably too vain to wear specs.
I also loved PamJam’s Gaga doble– totally nuts, but not in a random WTF Aliona way. We were discussing James Jordan’s choreography in the Cad household and we’ve come to the conclusion that James is really very good at pitching the dance exactly right each week – he’s a purist in terms of the steps and the feel, making sure each dance fits with what is conventionally expected, which Len likes, but also gives it enough of a story for Craig’s theatrical tastes. I must be mellowing in my old age – two years ago I could not bear James (or Ola!), and now I’m all pom-poms at the ready, go Jordans go.
Now then, Matt-gate. Well that was a rollercoaster, wasn’t it? (Well, maybe less of a rollercoaster and more of an average working see-saw.) First of all Matt and Aliona salsa-ed, which was fine, but nothing amazing; Matt wore pale yellow satin, Aliona wore a boob tube. Fine. Whatevs. But THEN, up Matt went to the mark, sweaty and expectant, and the judges DESTROYED him - which made everyone think ‘hang on a second, it wasn’t THAT bad! What’s all that about? That seems a bit harsh...’ THEN Tess did her interview of joy, where it became apparent that Matt was too gutted to even speak and was basically trying not to cry – even Tess seemed to notice that he wasn’t too happy, and didn’t lay into him in her usual delightful catty Tess way. And THEN, as we saw on Sunday’s recap, MATT STORMED OFF – NO BACKSTAGE INTERVIEW! NO ALIONA! GOSH!
Thing is, even though I’m putting lots of capital letters in there, to desperately try and up the drama, the fact remains that we didn’t really see much of the backstage strop (which was less flouncing and more walking away quickly, looking really upset) and we were probably all still too busy thinking about how unfair the judges had been (they have him just more point than Gavin’s hot mess samba!) The real drama came on Sunday though, when Matt had to TANGO FOR HIS LIFE, and that really was tense – I even went and sat up close to my TV to watch it, which I only usually do for a Vinthent-based pro-dance. And it was rather excellent, I thought – I wouldn’t have pitched a tango to Hung Up personally, but it was a good (rare) example of where Aliona’s slightly odd choreography actually works.
And at least Mattiona came second in the Swingathon, which was all a bit messy and random really. I didn’t hate it, but I did wonder what the point was. All I could really see was a load of petticoats and legs flailing, Gavin Henson looking lost and James Jordan apparently off to post-Swingathon darts match.
Costume-watch continues, though no crackers this week I didn't think. I've often meant to mention Alesha at this point, she usually wears something a wee bit odd (like a bling tutu or a ring the size of a satsuma), but I always forget - I think it's because she’s so very gorgeous that she generally gets away with her crazy fashion choices. Also, she’s usually upstaged by Tess Dress Mess. This week though, Tess’ dresses were fine, if dull - though arguably inoffensiveness is the worst fashion crime of all on a show like Strictly. (It was all a bit catalogue, darling.) But I did think that her Saturday night electric blue/one shoulder number could have been a size or two bigger – when you’re slim anyway, as la Daly is, it’s always better to upsize and avoid a visible spanx line. As for the rest, Katya wore a bright red bejewelled tent (pregnant? Please not Gavin’s) and Aliona brought out the big guns – not sure where she’d been hiding them during the rest of the series, but there they were, dangerously near the edge of her corset, ready to salsa. Perhaps that’s what distracted Matt.
Oh God, I’d nearly managed to wipe this from my memory, and I do apologise for bringing it up, but WHY OH WHY OH WHY are we subjected EVERY YEAR to Bruce ‘singing’ and ‘dancing’. It is just NOT ON. His jokes are bad enough – why can’t they just let things lie? And poor Ola, who had to run around on stage cheekily blowing kisses at him, dressed as Goldilocks, in a dress made of horrible lacy blue tights. WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT? Awful. It would have been distinctly preferable to have Ann back on, dancing with Peter Shilton. And that’s not a threat I make lightly. Still, there's every hope that Bruce will have retired by next year. Keep the faith.
Now then, readers, some sad news - I will not be able to watch the final on Saturday. Tragic, I know. It’s because I’ll be in France ski-ing – do your hearts bleed? So I won’t be able to blog either, I’m afraid, but fear not, because Dan (you know, PamJam Dan) has kindly agreed to guest blog the final for me! Thanks Dan – though obviously for sweepstake purposes, I hate you, and may Kara annihilate Pamela and Matt (am looking at you Essi) on the night. Let the prize be miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine! Etc etc.
Thanks for all your lovely emails and comments these past few months – it’s been a blast discussing all these very serious and important issues with you all, and please feel free to text me live updates this Saturday (won’t be near email or Twitter though). I’ll probably be back for a Series 8 retrospective in early 2011 and then I’ll sit at home crying until Series 9 starts. Thank yooooooou byeeeee xx
6 December 2010
Week 10
Well, whoooooooooooooo hooooooooooooooooo! Hallejulah! Yessssss! Come on!!!!!!!!!!! As Craig hilariously sang in joyful elation, and in tribute to CeCe Peniston, FINALLY! So, with half-hearted apologies to Ben, let the jubilation and celebration - and competition, uhuh - begin! Oh Ann, ardent rightwing Commons voting record aside, in some ways I was warming to you. Forgetting the atrocious dances (hard, I know), she was clearly loving the show and loving Anton, and there was something school girl crush/stalkerishly endearing about that. I’ll also graciously admit that one or two of Anton’s comments about the absurdity of the whole partnership had actually made me chuckle in recent weeks (*gasp*) and let’s not forget his gold Blackpool trousers (Cad’s number 1, after all). But it was right for them to go now, before Ann scalped a properly good dancer, and I will not miss the following:
Everything else they did.
The irony, of course, is that Ann actually tried to dance this week – and look how the Strictly votership repaid her (go us!). Still, things were a little different this week anyway, as it was ‘Movie Week’, where our couples had to... well, it’s fairly self-explanatory. But here’s just a quick reminder of the movies (or FILMS as we call them) they all had:
Team Kartem: Moulin Rouge. (Slightly cheating, perhaps – it’s a musical about a musical, so incorporates plenty of, you know, dancing.)
Team Annton: Hello Dolly! (Never seen it, but might be persuaded to, if the lead character also wears sequined culottes?)
Team Mattiona: Austin Powers. (Though when I saw Aliona’s Union Jack dress, I was truly hoping for that seminal classic, Spiceworld - which I am not ashamed to say I saw at the cinema. NO SHAME, NO REGRETS, NO REFUNDS.)
Team Gavya/Katvin: Blues Brothers. (Inexplicably - but mercifully - Katya didn’t get Gavin to shake his tail feather at the judges this week.)
Team Sssssssscottalie: Bond, generic Bond. (Well I think it was generic Bond. Hopefully it was Octopussy. Mwahahaha ‘Octopussy’ = always funny.)
*interlude whilst Catherine googles* (NOT A EUPHEMISM)
OK, so Wikipedia informs me that Nats’ bikini was from Dr No, so, assuming we are applying logic to the concept of ‘films being performed through the medium of ballroom dancing’, then they did Dr No, or ‘the Bond with the bikini’ as I googled. OK. (And on the subject of that bikini, Abi texted me mid-show to point out that someone should have told Natalie Lowe her towel was tucked into her bikini bottoms. So true. How embarrassing.)
And finally, team PamJam: Ghost. (They did that memorable scene from the film where Swayze and Demi and/or Whoopi wear full on evening dress and do a Viennese waltz. A shame - I was hoping for the ‘angry ghost sticks head through speeding subway train’ scene.)
I wouldn’t want every week to be themed, but used sporadically, the theme week thing has won me over, so far. Especially as some of the dances only had the most tenuous link to the movies that they were supposed to be channelling. Yes, PamJam, I’m looking at you. But ignoring the theme seems to have been a winning tactic - congrats to them for this series’ first 40! Take that Natalie Lowe! And well done especially James Jordan for being only mildly smug at getting full marks – as his hairline recedes, apparently so does his ego. Still, he was egotistical enough to insist on playing a young Tom Cruise during the opening pro-dance - fortunately he looked a total plonker in aviator shades, bomber jacket and tight latin trousers with a ribbon along the seam. (Also, James and Ola's dance wasn't nearly homo-erotic enough to get anywhere near an accurate and successful portrayal of Top Gun.)
I found Matt’s Austin Powers jive a bit weird – am not convinced that Aliona’s strength lies in choreography. I appreciate that she’s up for trying something different, but maybe all the hair dye fumes are clouding her brain? (It’s fairly obvious that scarlet isn't her real hair colour - and the skimpy nature of her costumes has probably allowed us all to notice that she’s not a natural redhead. Ahem.)
I thought Kara and Artem’s Roxanne tango was fairly amazing too – and Craig called it ‘phan-tas-ma-gor-i-cal’ - Artem didn’t have a clue what it meant, but could tell that that was good because of all those syllables. I do love Artem’s mumbled use of English (his tweets are particularly excellent ) and this week he said in the VT that he loved Kara. LOVED her! Probably the reality (fancies her plenty, gets on with her, wants to wait and see where it might go) was a little lost in translation, but still, the shomance must go on!
Now Ann is vanquished, I’m finding it harder to pick who I want to go. Even Gavin is not without his charm – no-one does a deadpan VT of hilarity like Gav “I want to go all the way to the final” Henson. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! But, obviously, he’s the one I’d most like to see leave next week. As for the long game, I know I’m slightly biased, but I would love to see an all-female final. Don’t get me wrong, Matt and Sssssscott are very, very good, but sometimes they’re a teeny bit perfunctory for me – I’m all about the lady sass. (*clicks fingers* *swishes hair* *pouts* *realises retrospectively that she cannot pull off any of those actions*)
We also saw some fairly good costume action (I refer you again to James as Cruise), but I do mourn the passing of Robin’s shirts. Fortunately, la Daly kept up the good fight against tasteful and flattering clothes; on Saturday, she wore a belted lamé sheet, which was less Tess Dress Mess than the j**psuit (the yardstick of heinousness by which all Tess’ outfits are now measured) but was still fairly vile. On Sunday, she donned a one shouldered LBD decorated by shards of glass. My two thoughts at the time were: 'Stegosaurus shoulder' and 'Like a glitterball sicked all over her'.
But possibly my favourite thing on Sunday (apart from Ann’s exit, of course) was the fact that the Manic Street Preachers were on, which must have slightly confused Strictly’s core demographic. My favourite thing about the Manics on SCD, apart from the randomness, was the stage décor – they opted to portray Strictly glamour with a few strategically placed animal statues - made of glitterballs!!! (Seriously brilliant, I spotted a glitterball panther and a glitterball Labrador, and possibly a glitterball naked man mannequin. A-ma-zing. Or as we must now say, phan-tas-ma-gor-i-cal.) Also Nicky Wire wore a leopardskin frock coat and had decorated his mike stand like a floral totem pole/traffic accident tribute. Say what you like about the Manics (and I’d say: “their recent discography has been pretentious, turgid dadrock of no discernable musical value”), but they totally made the effort for the show. If I’m being picky, I’d say it was a shame that we didn’t get Vinthent and Flavia doing a few twirls amongst the glitterzoo, but ultimately, licence fee very well spent.
Oh, let us again rejoice that we are riddy of Widdy! On It Takes Two last week, Claudia raised the prospect of her doing a jive at some point, “there isn’t a bra strong enough, darling” retorted Craig. OMG, TRUE DISTURBING FACT. Thank God we have all been spared that sight. Well done, belatedly, the Great British public.
And next week we are FINALLY promised the extra dances, including some kind of Friday (yes Friday) night swingathon - I bet everyone’s all the more relieved that Ann’s gone and Anton’s car keys won’t be involved. Also, rather terrifyingly, two couples are going this weekend – I cannot begin to call it. To my remaining rivals, Isabelle, Essi, Louise, Dan - let battle continue.
Everything else they did.
The irony, of course, is that Ann actually tried to dance this week – and look how the Strictly votership repaid her (go us!). Still, things were a little different this week anyway, as it was ‘Movie Week’, where our couples had to... well, it’s fairly self-explanatory. But here’s just a quick reminder of the movies (or FILMS as we call them) they all had:
Team Kartem: Moulin Rouge. (Slightly cheating, perhaps – it’s a musical about a musical, so incorporates plenty of, you know, dancing.)
Team Annton: Hello Dolly! (Never seen it, but might be persuaded to, if the lead character also wears sequined culottes?)
Team Mattiona: Austin Powers. (Though when I saw Aliona’s Union Jack dress, I was truly hoping for that seminal classic, Spiceworld - which I am not ashamed to say I saw at the cinema. NO SHAME, NO REGRETS, NO REFUNDS.)
Team Gavya/Katvin: Blues Brothers. (Inexplicably - but mercifully - Katya didn’t get Gavin to shake his tail feather at the judges this week.)
Team Sssssssscottalie: Bond, generic Bond. (Well I think it was generic Bond. Hopefully it was Octopussy. Mwahahaha ‘Octopussy’ = always funny.)
*interlude whilst Catherine googles* (NOT A EUPHEMISM)
OK, so Wikipedia informs me that Nats’ bikini was from Dr No, so, assuming we are applying logic to the concept of ‘films being performed through the medium of ballroom dancing’, then they did Dr No, or ‘the Bond with the bikini’ as I googled. OK. (And on the subject of that bikini, Abi texted me mid-show to point out that someone should have told Natalie Lowe her towel was tucked into her bikini bottoms. So true. How embarrassing.)
And finally, team PamJam: Ghost. (They did that memorable scene from the film where Swayze and Demi and/or Whoopi wear full on evening dress and do a Viennese waltz. A shame - I was hoping for the ‘angry ghost sticks head through speeding subway train’ scene.)
I wouldn’t want every week to be themed, but used sporadically, the theme week thing has won me over, so far. Especially as some of the dances only had the most tenuous link to the movies that they were supposed to be channelling. Yes, PamJam, I’m looking at you. But ignoring the theme seems to have been a winning tactic - congrats to them for this series’ first 40! Take that Natalie Lowe! And well done especially James Jordan for being only mildly smug at getting full marks – as his hairline recedes, apparently so does his ego. Still, he was egotistical enough to insist on playing a young Tom Cruise during the opening pro-dance - fortunately he looked a total plonker in aviator shades, bomber jacket and tight latin trousers with a ribbon along the seam. (Also, James and Ola's dance wasn't nearly homo-erotic enough to get anywhere near an accurate and successful portrayal of Top Gun.)
I found Matt’s Austin Powers jive a bit weird – am not convinced that Aliona’s strength lies in choreography. I appreciate that she’s up for trying something different, but maybe all the hair dye fumes are clouding her brain? (It’s fairly obvious that scarlet isn't her real hair colour - and the skimpy nature of her costumes has probably allowed us all to notice that she’s not a natural redhead. Ahem.)
I thought Kara and Artem’s Roxanne tango was fairly amazing too – and Craig called it ‘phan-tas-ma-gor-i-cal’ - Artem didn’t have a clue what it meant, but could tell that that was good because of all those syllables. I do love Artem’s mumbled use of English (his tweets are particularly excellent ) and this week he said in the VT that he loved Kara. LOVED her! Probably the reality (fancies her plenty, gets on with her, wants to wait and see where it might go) was a little lost in translation, but still, the shomance must go on!
Now Ann is vanquished, I’m finding it harder to pick who I want to go. Even Gavin is not without his charm – no-one does a deadpan VT of hilarity like Gav “I want to go all the way to the final” Henson. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! But, obviously, he’s the one I’d most like to see leave next week. As for the long game, I know I’m slightly biased, but I would love to see an all-female final. Don’t get me wrong, Matt and Sssssscott are very, very good, but sometimes they’re a teeny bit perfunctory for me – I’m all about the lady sass. (*clicks fingers* *swishes hair* *pouts* *realises retrospectively that she cannot pull off any of those actions*)
We also saw some fairly good costume action (I refer you again to James as Cruise), but I do mourn the passing of Robin’s shirts. Fortunately, la Daly kept up the good fight against tasteful and flattering clothes; on Saturday, she wore a belted lamé sheet, which was less Tess Dress Mess than the j**psuit (the yardstick of heinousness by which all Tess’ outfits are now measured) but was still fairly vile. On Sunday, she donned a one shouldered LBD decorated by shards of glass. My two thoughts at the time were: 'Stegosaurus shoulder' and 'Like a glitterball sicked all over her'.
But possibly my favourite thing on Sunday (apart from Ann’s exit, of course) was the fact that the Manic Street Preachers were on, which must have slightly confused Strictly’s core demographic. My favourite thing about the Manics on SCD, apart from the randomness, was the stage décor – they opted to portray Strictly glamour with a few strategically placed animal statues - made of glitterballs!!! (Seriously brilliant, I spotted a glitterball panther and a glitterball Labrador, and possibly a glitterball naked man mannequin. A-ma-zing. Or as we must now say, phan-tas-ma-gor-i-cal.) Also Nicky Wire wore a leopardskin frock coat and had decorated his mike stand like a floral totem pole/traffic accident tribute. Say what you like about the Manics (and I’d say: “their recent discography has been pretentious, turgid dadrock of no discernable musical value”), but they totally made the effort for the show. If I’m being picky, I’d say it was a shame that we didn’t get Vinthent and Flavia doing a few twirls amongst the glitterzoo, but ultimately, licence fee very well spent.
Oh, let us again rejoice that we are riddy of Widdy! On It Takes Two last week, Claudia raised the prospect of her doing a jive at some point, “there isn’t a bra strong enough, darling” retorted Craig. OMG, TRUE DISTURBING FACT. Thank God we have all been spared that sight. Well done, belatedly, the Great British public.
And next week we are FINALLY promised the extra dances, including some kind of Friday (yes Friday) night swingathon - I bet everyone’s all the more relieved that Ann’s gone and Anton’s car keys won’t be involved. Also, rather terrifyingly, two couples are going this weekend – I cannot begin to call it. To my remaining rivals, Isabelle, Essi, Louise, Dan - let battle continue.
30 November 2010
Week 9
First things first, the more eagled-eyed of you will note that the couples didn’t do two dances, as last week’s blog promised, they just did one, or in the case of Ann, none. (Boom boom.) (Literally.)
But, sadly one (good) dance wasn’t enough to save Patsy - and it was good bye to her, Robin and sweepstaker Beth (I only got Beth’s pound on Monday – timing!) Poor Patsy - her Blackpool samba was a bit dodgy, but she did a more than passable Argentine tango this week (seriously fabulous dress) and it was considerably better than Gavin’s jive (I didn’t know that squatting was a jive move) and Ann’s rumba, and – at times – Scott’s American Smooth (i.e., the bits where he forgot the dance and headbutted Natalie – not that I’m complaining about that). I totally warmed to Patsy in the end – she was gracious, warm, kooky and seemed rather genuine. I particularly loved her adorable fag/hag partnership with Robin and I will miss Robin’s potato-esque head and his display of Soho’s finest streetwear a lot. He can come back next year. As can Artem, who, after ow-ow-ow-shouldergate, showed even more bravery this week by unironically performing the horizontal-v-sign-across-the-eyes move while jiving in a purple chiffon puff-sleeved shirt, AND STILL LOOKED MANLY. (Well, maybe 85% manly.)
Jared for next year? Well, he’s very sweet, but, ultimately, for me, no thanks - children doing ballroom dancing freaks me out. (Other things on the ‘makes Catherine shit-scared’ list include: rats the size of dogs, the thought of being buried alive and large coloured decorative wooden or plastic buttons. *shudders*) Next year, pleeeeeease let’s see the return of the majestic Ian Waite, preferably dancing with Strictly superfan and fucking hilarious star of Miranda, Miranda ‘Miranda’ Hart - they are both hugely tall, which will give Len something to mention every week. I’m not saying Miranda would necessarily be that good at the dancing, but who knows? All I do know is that I would pay my licence fee twice over to see some backstage/VT footage of Vinthent and Miranda standing next to each other, face to boobs, having a chat. Visual hilarity nothwithstanding, let’s just imagine the awesomeness of that conversation for a second – OMG x a gazillion.
(For those of you who don't watch Miranda, this post will make little sense. Apols - watch the show and you'll see. For those of you who do know and who inexplicably hate Miranda - and you know who you are - well, you are just wrong. That show makes me constantly 'lol'.)
As for the rest, well, it wasn’t a week of glittering dance awesomeness and tens all round – it was more of a Blackpool hangover, with some fairly botchy performances and more ridiculous grumpy scoring. The Four Tops, as I now propose to refer to mooted finalists Scott, Kara, Matt and Pamelar, were a mixed bag this week. Portmanteausville ahoy, I thought PamJam and Mattiona were fantastic and Scottalie and Kartem were fantastic apart from when they went wrong which was a fair chunk of the routine and therefore made them less than fantastic. The judges, however, mostly disagreed with me – underscoring Matt for being too pouty and modern (or something) and overscoring Scott and Kara on the basis that they have been good in the past - you can’t get nines when you go that blatantly wrong, surely? However, we all agreed that Pamela was good. She’ll be 62 soon! I know that’s the new Pamela mantra (now that we’ve established that she’s married to Billy Connolly), but it’s still fairly impressive.
Now then. On another note. Hmm. Um. Not quite sure how to say this really. Are you all sitting down? OK, good. So… so… so… *deep breath*
IactuallyfoundAnnquitefunnythisweekohmyGodI’mtrulysorryIknowIshouldknowbetterbutshedidactuallymakemelaughoutloudonseveraloccasionsIthinkit’sbecauserumbasareusuallysomindlesslyboringsoitwasreallyrefreshingtoseeacomedyrumbawhichwasdifferentandniceandunusualbutdon’tworryIstillwantAnnandAntontoleaveAnnAnnAnnoutoutthiswasjustaoneoffonetimeonlythingIpromiseitwillneverhappenagainandIwasthinkingofyouguysthewholetime.
Ok, enough. How about we pretend I never said it? Ok. Next!
Oh yes, costumes – no gold sequin trews, sure, but HELLO KARA’S JIVE DRESS. Mmmmmm-hmmmm. Gorge. Katya’s dress was, er, of note. For those that missed it, it was half dress/half leotard, made of yellow/green/turquoise tie-dyed streamers. Am not quite sure what it reminded me of, but it might have been glittering cat sick? But not in a bad way. Ahem. Perhaps it was Fraggle Rock again. Anyway, it was appropriately fugly – hopefully Robin will find a version in shirt-form for his next pro dance.
They seem to have abandoned the poo suit (I guess after Vinthent had worn it, no-one else felt up to it). Instead, puffy-sleeved chiffon shirts à la Riverdance seemed to be in vogue this week: the jive pro-dancers had them in purple, Matt in red and Claudia in navy blue.
Now I rarely mention Claudia, but let it be recorded here for posterity: Claudia Winkleman is the best thing about Strictly Come Dancing. I just heart you Claudia, may you never never never leave Strictly. For me, she is the glue that holds it all together – the bridge between serious Strictly and hilarious Strictly, and if that bridge were to fall... No, I am not going to torture that atrocious metaphor any longer, but suffice to say that it would be far worse if Claudia left, than Arlene, Brian, Ian and Lilia leaving combined. She is irreplaceable. (It would be tragic - even worse than when Dermot left BBLB and George Lamb came on and shouted a lot and the eight viewers Big Brother still had left all gagged a bit and switched off.)
Dancing and costumes aside, Gavin Henson continues to display his (accidental?) mastery of deadpan brilliance. How I laughed when he openly said he hated dressing up like a cowboy, but then did it anyway – what do the BBC have on him to be able to get him to do these things? Also, I’m not sure I heard right, but I *think* Gavin said that Katya had been ill in the week, so he’d had to practice with Klaus (yes, that’s Klaus), Katya’s partner. If so – WHERE IS THAT FOOTAGE? I DEMAND TO SEE THAT FOOTAGE!
As for Sunday, well, Tess Dress Mess turned to Tess Dress Yes (see what I did there)! I thought she looked pretty good in a (maybe slightly too) skin-tight, dove-grey bandage dress. In fact, her Saturday dress (a skirted version of the hideous j**psuit) was ok too.
And we can tick Ola Jordan Catsuit off our Strictly bingo cards (again). Yay! It was possibly her finest catsuit to date; glittering spiderweb black lace, backless, obviously. She and James did a rumba, which we’ve established is generally dull, but the bit where James balanced her on his neck – hands free – and span her around was fairly impressive.
However, I’m starting to get really really annoyed with the Sunday night popstar performances - AGAIN no pro-dancers and instead the Strictly producers seemed happy to fob us off with James 'rhymes with' Blunt, his anonymous band and no dancing – just some bare light bulbs. WHY? WHY? WHY? I mean I know the dance troop has been an unbridled catastrophe, but come on! Replaced by light bulbs?!?
My God, I’m still talking. Has anyone actually read this far? Let’s leave it there, shall we? Am hoping that next week will be two dance week, but as you can tell, I know nothing. As for who’ll stay, well, anything could happen from now and I wouldn’t bet against Ann yet. But there is a beacon of hope from the other side - Wagner’s finally out of X-Factor, so maybe the underdog’s time is up and we’ll be riddy of Widdy! Oooh rhyming. OK seriously, ENOUGH. Thankyoubye.
But, sadly one (good) dance wasn’t enough to save Patsy - and it was good bye to her, Robin and sweepstaker Beth (I only got Beth’s pound on Monday – timing!) Poor Patsy - her Blackpool samba was a bit dodgy, but she did a more than passable Argentine tango this week (seriously fabulous dress) and it was considerably better than Gavin’s jive (I didn’t know that squatting was a jive move) and Ann’s rumba, and – at times – Scott’s American Smooth (i.e., the bits where he forgot the dance and headbutted Natalie – not that I’m complaining about that). I totally warmed to Patsy in the end – she was gracious, warm, kooky and seemed rather genuine. I particularly loved her adorable fag/hag partnership with Robin and I will miss Robin’s potato-esque head and his display of Soho’s finest streetwear a lot. He can come back next year. As can Artem, who, after ow-ow-ow-shouldergate, showed even more bravery this week by unironically performing the horizontal-v-sign-across-the-eyes move while jiving in a purple chiffon puff-sleeved shirt, AND STILL LOOKED MANLY. (Well, maybe 85% manly.)
Jared for next year? Well, he’s very sweet, but, ultimately, for me, no thanks - children doing ballroom dancing freaks me out. (Other things on the ‘makes Catherine shit-scared’ list include: rats the size of dogs, the thought of being buried alive and large coloured decorative wooden or plastic buttons. *shudders*) Next year, pleeeeeease let’s see the return of the majestic Ian Waite, preferably dancing with Strictly superfan and fucking hilarious star of Miranda, Miranda ‘Miranda’ Hart - they are both hugely tall, which will give Len something to mention every week. I’m not saying Miranda would necessarily be that good at the dancing, but who knows? All I do know is that I would pay my licence fee twice over to see some backstage/VT footage of Vinthent and Miranda standing next to each other, face to boobs, having a chat. Visual hilarity nothwithstanding, let’s just imagine the awesomeness of that conversation for a second – OMG x a gazillion.
(For those of you who don't watch Miranda, this post will make little sense. Apols - watch the show and you'll see. For those of you who do know and who inexplicably hate Miranda - and you know who you are - well, you are just wrong. That show makes me constantly 'lol'.)
As for the rest, well, it wasn’t a week of glittering dance awesomeness and tens all round – it was more of a Blackpool hangover, with some fairly botchy performances and more ridiculous grumpy scoring. The Four Tops, as I now propose to refer to mooted finalists Scott, Kara, Matt and Pamelar, were a mixed bag this week. Portmanteausville ahoy, I thought PamJam and Mattiona were fantastic and Scottalie and Kartem were fantastic apart from when they went wrong which was a fair chunk of the routine and therefore made them less than fantastic. The judges, however, mostly disagreed with me – underscoring Matt for being too pouty and modern (or something) and overscoring Scott and Kara on the basis that they have been good in the past - you can’t get nines when you go that blatantly wrong, surely? However, we all agreed that Pamela was good. She’ll be 62 soon! I know that’s the new Pamela mantra (now that we’ve established that she’s married to Billy Connolly), but it’s still fairly impressive.
Now then. On another note. Hmm. Um. Not quite sure how to say this really. Are you all sitting down? OK, good. So… so… so… *deep breath*
IactuallyfoundAnnquitefunnythisweekohmyGodI’mtrulysorryIknowIshouldknowbetterbutshedidactuallymakemelaughoutloudonseveraloccasionsIthinkit’sbecauserumbasareusuallysomindlesslyboringsoitwasreallyrefreshingtoseeacomedyrumbawhichwasdifferentandniceandunusualbutdon’tworryIstillwantAnnandAntontoleaveAnnAnnAnnoutoutthiswasjustaoneoffonetimeonlythingIpromiseitwillneverhappenagainandIwasthinkingofyouguysthewholetime.
Ok, enough. How about we pretend I never said it? Ok. Next!
Oh yes, costumes – no gold sequin trews, sure, but HELLO KARA’S JIVE DRESS. Mmmmmm-hmmmm. Gorge. Katya’s dress was, er, of note. For those that missed it, it was half dress/half leotard, made of yellow/green/turquoise tie-dyed streamers. Am not quite sure what it reminded me of, but it might have been glittering cat sick? But not in a bad way. Ahem. Perhaps it was Fraggle Rock again. Anyway, it was appropriately fugly – hopefully Robin will find a version in shirt-form for his next pro dance.
They seem to have abandoned the poo suit (I guess after Vinthent had worn it, no-one else felt up to it). Instead, puffy-sleeved chiffon shirts à la Riverdance seemed to be in vogue this week: the jive pro-dancers had them in purple, Matt in red and Claudia in navy blue.
Now I rarely mention Claudia, but let it be recorded here for posterity: Claudia Winkleman is the best thing about Strictly Come Dancing. I just heart you Claudia, may you never never never leave Strictly. For me, she is the glue that holds it all together – the bridge between serious Strictly and hilarious Strictly, and if that bridge were to fall... No, I am not going to torture that atrocious metaphor any longer, but suffice to say that it would be far worse if Claudia left, than Arlene, Brian, Ian and Lilia leaving combined. She is irreplaceable. (It would be tragic - even worse than when Dermot left BBLB and George Lamb came on and shouted a lot and the eight viewers Big Brother still had left all gagged a bit and switched off.)
Dancing and costumes aside, Gavin Henson continues to display his (accidental?) mastery of deadpan brilliance. How I laughed when he openly said he hated dressing up like a cowboy, but then did it anyway – what do the BBC have on him to be able to get him to do these things? Also, I’m not sure I heard right, but I *think* Gavin said that Katya had been ill in the week, so he’d had to practice with Klaus (yes, that’s Klaus), Katya’s partner. If so – WHERE IS THAT FOOTAGE? I DEMAND TO SEE THAT FOOTAGE!
As for Sunday, well, Tess Dress Mess turned to Tess Dress Yes (see what I did there)! I thought she looked pretty good in a (maybe slightly too) skin-tight, dove-grey bandage dress. In fact, her Saturday dress (a skirted version of the hideous j**psuit) was ok too.
And we can tick Ola Jordan Catsuit off our Strictly bingo cards (again). Yay! It was possibly her finest catsuit to date; glittering spiderweb black lace, backless, obviously. She and James did a rumba, which we’ve established is generally dull, but the bit where James balanced her on his neck – hands free – and span her around was fairly impressive.
However, I’m starting to get really really annoyed with the Sunday night popstar performances - AGAIN no pro-dancers and instead the Strictly producers seemed happy to fob us off with James 'rhymes with' Blunt, his anonymous band and no dancing – just some bare light bulbs. WHY? WHY? WHY? I mean I know the dance troop has been an unbridled catastrophe, but come on! Replaced by light bulbs?!?
My God, I’m still talking. Has anyone actually read this far? Let’s leave it there, shall we? Am hoping that next week will be two dance week, but as you can tell, I know nothing. As for who’ll stay, well, anything could happen from now and I wouldn’t bet against Ann yet. But there is a beacon of hope from the other side - Wagner’s finally out of X-Factor, so maybe the underdog’s time is up and we’ll be riddy of Widdy! Oooh rhyming. OK seriously, ENOUGH. Thankyoubye.
22 November 2010
Week 8
Wowsers – for me, Blackpool week was a return to form. Excellent dancing and excellent costumes – the Strictly wardrobe department outdid themselves in the sequin/comedy stakes. To quote Craig, I LOVED it.
But more on the outfits later. First I want to pay tribute to the special person we said goodbye to this week. The diminutive, inimitable and utterly wonderful Mr Vinthent Thimone. My very favourite Italian Pony.
*pause for respectful and poignant contemplation*
Since Ian was ousted and Brian left, no other male dancer has come close to Vinthent. I just love him! He’s so ridiculous and tiny and has fuzzy felt eyebrows which move independently from the rest of him. It’s a well-known fact that no-one in the history of Strictly Come Dancing has provided more joyful hilarity and proper ‘lol’s than our Vinthent (not even Henson). He’s just the master. I mean, who can forget his description of Rachel Steven’s pre-performance nerves: “she was shaking like a leaflet” (followed by dawning realisation “...oh no, ees ‘a leaf’?” and coy mortification “...Oh no, mwahaha.”)? Or the time he was so overcome with embarrassment (at what, I forget – possibly comparing Rachel to a leaflet, a fair comparison in terms of charisma proffered, we’ll all agree) that he threw his hands to his face and rocked back on his chair so far that he fell over backwards – little Italian limbs a-flailing. And let’s not forget his ingenuity - when Felicity had trouble with left and right (and that can happen to the very most cleverest brainy people, OK?!), he stuck a banana in one of her socks and an apple in the other. (“Step with the banana foot, Felicity” – it worked a treat.)
I just LOVE him. So I, and Abi too, am sure, are sad to see him go. (And bbbbendy Felicity too, of course.) Here’s hoping we’ll see a bit more professional action from him and Flavs before the show’s out.
Just a quick mention of the dancing – you know, as that’s what it’s all about, blah blah blah. Some truly high-quality performances I thought. Sweepstake bias notwithstanding, my favourites were Kara and Artem - just AWESOME, especially as Kara somehow dislocated Artem’s shoulder - allegedly during rehearsals. HA! (So kind of Tess to out them this week – so now we know, not gay, just European. Though I’m still suspicious.). Given the sex, I mean, dance injury, the performance was all the more impressive, as their routine essentially involved Artem hoisting Kara onto said dislocated shoulder throughout – so many levels of ow. Scott and Natalie were as clinical competent as ever, like dance assassins, and elegant PamJam finally got 10 (how I laughed when James said that he wanted to get a 10 “for Pamelar”. Again - HA!). And I rather enjoyed Matt Baker, as he shook his bon bon and did no less than THREE backflips in a row.
On the judge front, Len is such a grumpy old sod this year – he’s getting right on my wick. His scoring was (as it has been throughout this series) total nutsville. It was no surprise that he didn’t like Matt’s ‘flipflop’ (oh boom flipping boom Len) or that he was willing to give Ann five more points than she deserved (i.e. five – if only the zero paddle existed. *sigh*) but (BUT!!!) he only gave Kara a six (on a technicality, but not a rule break), and then gave Gavin Henson a se-VEN! W, T and F?!! In case you missed it, Henson was dancing a samba to Tom Jones and the routine started with him miming in front of a mic and attempting to pelvic thrust – it was repulsive. At the time, I simply tweeted “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, then decided that in a game of shag, marry, kill, with Henson, Bruce and Anton, I would unhesitatingly kill Gavin. Seriously. I stand by that decision in the cold hard light of day – and you all know how I feel about Anton (*voms*).
Oh Anton. You did redeem yourself a little this week – and surprisingly so. Now, I’m not sure how many of you (if any of you) read my @strictlycad tweets, but earlier this week – and please don’t judge me (well no more than usual) - I decided to compile a list of my all time favourite Strictly trousers. The results are here and here. Oh, how I was tempting fate with that countdown! Little did I know that Anton du Beke was limbering up to squeeze into the finest trousers Strictly has seen to date. Gold sequined slacks, worn with a yellow silk shirt and a gold sequined scarf.
To quote the fug girls: just... wow.
It goes without saying that Anton looked an absolute tool, but those trousers were all I could see on Saturday night in the Tesspit – glimmering away in the background. I was in no doubt, dear readers, in no doubt at all: Anton’s trousers made an entry straight to the top of my chart.
AND THAT IS NOT IN ANY WAY A SMUTTY EUPHEMISM OH MY GOD PERISH THE VERY THOUGHT.
Other special mentions go to Sssssssscott, looking unusually unsightly in one of Robin’s cast offs – think sequined Bayeux tapestry, in shirt form, slashed to the navel (obv. Robin would have looked amazing in it), and to Natalie Lowe, who looked impressively Amazonian, but was basically wearing a vajazzle.
As for Tess Dress Mess, turns out it is still worth documenting, as la Daly’s outfit reached heights of heinousness I didn’t think possible - stepping out on to the stage, as she did, in (I can barely type the words, such is my disgust) a red jumpsuit. It was... well there are no words. Suffice to say, she looked very awful indeed.
Also very awful indeed (well other than Ann, of course, but that’s a given and am not going there this week, apart from to say she looked and moved like a grapefruit on pipecleaners) was the professional dance which opened Sunday’s show, in which the Strictly ladies stripped to bejewelled bikinis and gyrated around for a few minutes. Yes, they have the figures for it and am sure it was a delightful sight for some, but it just didn’t work for me – there weren’t any ballroom or latin tricks and it felt like a real shame that, left to their own devices (or as directed to by the production team), the girls didn’t actually do any real dancing, just a bit of hip, crotch and bum shaking. Maybe it was supposed to be all slinky and Vegas-y, but... well, no amount of glitter and neon lighting is going to overcome the perennial problem that they were in BLACKPOOL! Yes that ballroom floor is incredible, but ultimately it’s located in a small grey British seaside town – it can try all it likes, but it’s not even La Vegas’ poorer cousin – it’s Sin City’s weird English stalker, who can’t be arsed with feathers in the arse crack on a full time basis and most of the time prefers to hang out in a nice woollen dressing gown, with a lovely cuppa and Take A Break magazine (and I ain’t criticising!). Let’s face it - the main activities in Vegas are excessive gambling, getting married to a prostitute by Elvis and seeing Bette Midler in concert. In Blackpool, it’s drinking Bacardi breezers, dry-humping a man in a Ben Sherman shirt, shovelling a load of chips (or pies) into one’s gob and enjoying an extended vomiting session. Very glamorous indeed.
(Ah well. Now might be a good time to listen to this. You know there’s poetry in them seaside towns.)
Still, gyrations aside, Blackpool did bring out the requisite amount of sparkle to Strictly this week – and for that, I thank it. And back to London now – where Apprentice viewers will know that people don’t wear shoes. The ultimate prize is getting nearer and it’s two dance time next week. And Widdecombe’s doing a rumba...
But more on the outfits later. First I want to pay tribute to the special person we said goodbye to this week. The diminutive, inimitable and utterly wonderful Mr Vinthent Thimone. My very favourite Italian Pony.
*pause for respectful and poignant contemplation*
Since Ian was ousted and Brian left, no other male dancer has come close to Vinthent. I just love him! He’s so ridiculous and tiny and has fuzzy felt eyebrows which move independently from the rest of him. It’s a well-known fact that no-one in the history of Strictly Come Dancing has provided more joyful hilarity and proper ‘lol’s than our Vinthent (not even Henson). He’s just the master. I mean, who can forget his description of Rachel Steven’s pre-performance nerves: “she was shaking like a leaflet” (followed by dawning realisation “...oh no, ees ‘a leaf’?” and coy mortification “...Oh no, mwahaha.”)? Or the time he was so overcome with embarrassment (at what, I forget – possibly comparing Rachel to a leaflet, a fair comparison in terms of charisma proffered, we’ll all agree) that he threw his hands to his face and rocked back on his chair so far that he fell over backwards – little Italian limbs a-flailing. And let’s not forget his ingenuity - when Felicity had trouble with left and right (and that can happen to the very most cleverest brainy people, OK?!), he stuck a banana in one of her socks and an apple in the other. (“Step with the banana foot, Felicity” – it worked a treat.)
I just LOVE him. So I, and Abi too, am sure, are sad to see him go. (And bbbbendy Felicity too, of course.) Here’s hoping we’ll see a bit more professional action from him and Flavs before the show’s out.
Just a quick mention of the dancing – you know, as that’s what it’s all about, blah blah blah. Some truly high-quality performances I thought. Sweepstake bias notwithstanding, my favourites were Kara and Artem - just AWESOME, especially as Kara somehow dislocated Artem’s shoulder - allegedly during rehearsals. HA! (So kind of Tess to out them this week – so now we know, not gay, just European. Though I’m still suspicious.). Given the sex, I mean, dance injury, the performance was all the more impressive, as their routine essentially involved Artem hoisting Kara onto said dislocated shoulder throughout – so many levels of ow. Scott and Natalie were as clinical competent as ever, like dance assassins, and elegant PamJam finally got 10 (how I laughed when James said that he wanted to get a 10 “for Pamelar”. Again - HA!). And I rather enjoyed Matt Baker, as he shook his bon bon and did no less than THREE backflips in a row.
On the judge front, Len is such a grumpy old sod this year – he’s getting right on my wick. His scoring was (as it has been throughout this series) total nutsville. It was no surprise that he didn’t like Matt’s ‘flipflop’ (oh boom flipping boom Len) or that he was willing to give Ann five more points than she deserved (i.e. five – if only the zero paddle existed. *sigh*) but (BUT!!!) he only gave Kara a six (on a technicality, but not a rule break), and then gave Gavin Henson a se-VEN! W, T and F?!! In case you missed it, Henson was dancing a samba to Tom Jones and the routine started with him miming in front of a mic and attempting to pelvic thrust – it was repulsive. At the time, I simply tweeted “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, then decided that in a game of shag, marry, kill, with Henson, Bruce and Anton, I would unhesitatingly kill Gavin. Seriously. I stand by that decision in the cold hard light of day – and you all know how I feel about Anton (*voms*).
Oh Anton. You did redeem yourself a little this week – and surprisingly so. Now, I’m not sure how many of you (if any of you) read my @strictlycad tweets, but earlier this week – and please don’t judge me (well no more than usual) - I decided to compile a list of my all time favourite Strictly trousers. The results are here and here. Oh, how I was tempting fate with that countdown! Little did I know that Anton du Beke was limbering up to squeeze into the finest trousers Strictly has seen to date. Gold sequined slacks, worn with a yellow silk shirt and a gold sequined scarf.
To quote the fug girls: just... wow.
It goes without saying that Anton looked an absolute tool, but those trousers were all I could see on Saturday night in the Tesspit – glimmering away in the background. I was in no doubt, dear readers, in no doubt at all: Anton’s trousers made an entry straight to the top of my chart.
AND THAT IS NOT IN ANY WAY A SMUTTY EUPHEMISM OH MY GOD PERISH THE VERY THOUGHT.
Other special mentions go to Sssssssscott, looking unusually unsightly in one of Robin’s cast offs – think sequined Bayeux tapestry, in shirt form, slashed to the navel (obv. Robin would have looked amazing in it), and to Natalie Lowe, who looked impressively Amazonian, but was basically wearing a vajazzle.
As for Tess Dress Mess, turns out it is still worth documenting, as la Daly’s outfit reached heights of heinousness I didn’t think possible - stepping out on to the stage, as she did, in (I can barely type the words, such is my disgust) a red jumpsuit. It was... well there are no words. Suffice to say, she looked very awful indeed.
Also very awful indeed (well other than Ann, of course, but that’s a given and am not going there this week, apart from to say she looked and moved like a grapefruit on pipecleaners) was the professional dance which opened Sunday’s show, in which the Strictly ladies stripped to bejewelled bikinis and gyrated around for a few minutes. Yes, they have the figures for it and am sure it was a delightful sight for some, but it just didn’t work for me – there weren’t any ballroom or latin tricks and it felt like a real shame that, left to their own devices (or as directed to by the production team), the girls didn’t actually do any real dancing, just a bit of hip, crotch and bum shaking. Maybe it was supposed to be all slinky and Vegas-y, but... well, no amount of glitter and neon lighting is going to overcome the perennial problem that they were in BLACKPOOL! Yes that ballroom floor is incredible, but ultimately it’s located in a small grey British seaside town – it can try all it likes, but it’s not even La Vegas’ poorer cousin – it’s Sin City’s weird English stalker, who can’t be arsed with feathers in the arse crack on a full time basis and most of the time prefers to hang out in a nice woollen dressing gown, with a lovely cuppa and Take A Break magazine (and I ain’t criticising!). Let’s face it - the main activities in Vegas are excessive gambling, getting married to a prostitute by Elvis and seeing Bette Midler in concert. In Blackpool, it’s drinking Bacardi breezers, dry-humping a man in a Ben Sherman shirt, shovelling a load of chips (or pies) into one’s gob and enjoying an extended vomiting session. Very glamorous indeed.
(Ah well. Now might be a good time to listen to this. You know there’s poetry in them seaside towns.)
Still, gyrations aside, Blackpool did bring out the requisite amount of sparkle to Strictly this week – and for that, I thank it. And back to London now – where Apprentice viewers will know that people don’t wear shoes. The ultimate prize is getting nearer and it’s two dance time next week. And Widdecombe’s doing a rumba...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)