Series 12 - The Launch Show

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Strictly’s back, bitches, and it’s FINALLY time to take several gratuitous, sequintastic hours to see who gets paired with whom. (Unless, like me, you have no willpower and looked it up several days ago on the Godless place that is the Digital Spy forums, ahem.)   The Strictlyfied celebs are about to show off their double dip spray tans and the efficacy of their Bridget Jones under-girdles, and we're about to see which unlucky soul has to rumba with Anton.  As you can imagine, my excitement levels are set to HIGH.  

I’d also like to take this opportunity to tell Mr Cad I love him very much and will see him in December.

First excitement – NO BRUCE!  To celebrate this, we get a full Brucie VT, but it’s (just about) ok, as the excitement of no Brucie is (just about) allowing me to handle some Brucie.   The VT is a nifty Brucie’s Angels pastiche, with Bruce on a mission to gather up the Strictly team using multiple puns and random items as fake telephones.

He starts with Tess struggling alone at the dress rail (DOES THIS MEAN SHE’S FIRED HER STYLIST, DEAR GOD PLEASE) and Claude pretending the Great British Sewing Bee has taught her how to make clothes.  They are primed and ready.  Claudia’s fringe has even been specially trimmed as a concession to idiots.

The remaining judges are cast as Bruce’s lackeys, which must have pleased them.  Darcey is Miss Moneypenny, Len is a Nazi chauffeur and Bruno is a bellhop who uses a pregnancy kit to test the temperature of Bruce’s tea.  Craig gets to make a gag about Bruce’s chin.

Presenters and judges accounted for, it’s time to collect up the dancers; Kevin’s at the Grimsby Chip Show in typical Northern dress of specs and bowtie when Brucie makes the call– inexplicably he leaves a FULL NEWSPAPER OF CHIPS to rush off to dance.  Bruce then calls the Girlz (Janette, Karen and Kristina), who, with Made In Chelsea levels of stereotyping, are shopping and pouting, whilst, on the Boyz side, Aljaz is unfortunate enough to be playing golf with Anton and Brendan (though there is quite a good gag in there, when Anton answers a golf club phone and calls Bruce ‘dad’).  We then see Natbot applying mahogany paint varnish to Ola’s naked shoulders in what appears to be a Scandinavian sauna (which will no doubt incite some of Strictly older gentleman fans to ‘have a moment’).  Finally, Pasha, Aliona and Iveta (who, erm, isn’t Russian, but is foreign, so it’s probably all the same, innit) have been banished to Siberia to throw fake snowballs and pet huskies.  Bruce allows them to sleigh their way back to Elstree. 

No Robin or Artem, who are injured and dancing with Marty McFly’s mum, respectively, and still no Katya (booooo) and Ian (booooo).  However, we can take gleeful comfort in the thought that there’s no James Jordan because he’s in the Big Brother house calling himself the “Brad Pitt of the dance world”.

The opening VT might be over, but the pace continues, well, a pace... We head to the red carpet for screaming middle-aged women in M&S diamante, terrified celebs trapped in a giant glitter ball and a pro-dance routine in an overly confined-space, which features, dear God, Bruce tap-dancing.  (Still, let us remain magnanimous, as we haven’t got to suffer several months of it, this time.) 

There are also a... whatever the collective noun is for ‘random drummers with glitter drums’ and the introduction of a new Strictly dance move which involves legs akimbo and a downward crouching bounce. 

It’s not good.

But no time to linger, as it’s off the red carpet as we allow the judges their annual dance interlude: Len goes a little turn with Natbot as Darcey is carried into the studio by... literally no clue, as it’s all eyes on her AMAZING dress (Mary Poppins skirt and glitterbox/glue accident t-shirt – truly enviable).  Craig then throws caution to his dodgy replaced hip, tangoing with Karen and Aliona, whilst Bruno has another aneurysm, trying to out-pelvic thrust Aljaz and Kev on the desk.  But the best bit comes next as Claudia and Tess get carried on in on thrones, Jewish wedding stylee, cackling with hysterical glee.  Claude in particular looks disbelievingly thrilled; her face is as happy as this baby who just pooed on his father.  It’s all tidied up with a pro dance that involves Anton COPING WITH LATIN.  And if that’s not a good omen, I don’t know what is.

Dancing over, it’s time to catch a breath and allow Tess and Claudia to... oh nope, my bad – it’s Bruce who takes on the reigns.  Heaven forbid we just let the women get on with it – they clearly need formal approval from a man to proceed.  In his defence, a rested Bruce does an unusually well-paced chat in which he says nice things about Tess and Claude.

And so, at last, it’s unsupervised Tess and Claude time!  Whoop!  To think there was a time when I despised Tess and couldn’t handle her rude interrogation in the Tesspit about which celebs fancied their pros - clearly I’ve grown as a person.  Tess is looking beautiful of face and fine of body in a one shouldered monochrome number, which only has minimal phantom wonky nipple. (I’m actually predicting TessDressYes this year, now she doesn’t have to ward against Brucie’s grabby dance hands.)  Claudia has scoured eBay and purchased what can only be an outfit previously worn by Blanche out of the Golden Girls at a funeral.  I’m fairly sure this is the look she will channel all series.  For the avoidance of doubt, Claudia could wear the poo slacks and she'd still be the bestest.

Claudia then immediately shows what a pro she is by enthusiastically trailing a boy band performance without the merest hint of “which will be unutterably shit”.   But just before we can get TOO excited, Bruce drops the clanger that he’ll still be doing Children In Need and The Christmas Special.  Ah well.  Baby steps. 

It’s (FINALLY) time to meet the stars of our show!

“Star of Masterchef, Gregg Wallace”, dressed as the member of staff everyone wants to avoid at the Christmas Work Party.

“Pop Princess, Pixie Lott”, in a bright yellow mirkin.

“Wildlife Expert, Steve Backshall”, looking broad and hunky and adorably cheesy.

“Tennis Coach (translation: “Mum of Andy”) Judy Murray”, in a red dress second only to Darcey’s.

“TV presenter and radio DJ (translation: him off Towie) Mark Wright”, seeming less objectionable than I might have predicted (I'm drunk on Strictly magic).

“Star of Casualty, Sunetra Sarker”, pretty in pink, with shiny hair to rival Claude’s.

“Bargain Hunt’s Antiques Expert, Tim Winnacott”...  Hang on, Bargain Hunt?!  I’ve been calling him Tim Antiques Roadshow to date – shows how much attention I pay.  Not that this is the first Bargain Hunt/Strictly crossover, as Darren ‘Darren and Lilya’ Bennett’s identical-looking brother was once on Bargain Hunt and... I’ll leave that anecdote for another time, eh?

“From The Saturdays, popstar Frankie Bridge”, wearing a bikini which has grown streamers.

“Radio 1 DJ Scott Mills”, who I LOVE and has an adorable rabbit in headlights excitability in his gaze.

“This Morning reporter, Alison Hammond”, beaming in fetching lilac, if that’s not an oxymoron (it is, for lilac is vile - but Alison is not).

“Rugby star and model, Thom Evans”, hubba hubba etc.

“Star of Mrs Brown’s Boys, Jennifer Gibney”, foxy in a mullet lingerie dress.

“From Blue, Popstar Simon Webb”, trying waaaay too hard to look cool in skin tight lace and crystals.   You did Eurovision, Simon – time to embrace the cheese.

“TV Presenter, Caroline Flack”, quite incredibly pulling off those high-waisted shorts that made gorgeously slim Holly Valance look a total heifer.

“And finally, Eastenders star, Jake Wood”, angry superbaldy.

So we now know who everyone is then?  Well, more or less?  Time for “Ballroom blind date”!

Gregg Masterchef is up first and all the female dancers stare straight ahead, with full poker face, whispering 'not me, not me' under their breaths. Clearly Gregg's the boorish dud to avoid.  He’s matched with Aliona, who doesn't even begin to try and hide how utterly fucked off she is.  Mwahaha, I'm starting to warm to Aliona.

Jake Eastenders has been dressed in latin rather than ballroom, which is probably a mark of confidence in his abilities.  He also looks tense as hell, but let's blame the nerves for his thundery face of doom as Janette is announced as his partner.  (You can't all have Ola, Jake.)  It’s ok though, as Janette, all speedy hip thrusts and squealing “YAY YAY YAYS” provides enthusiasm enough for two.  Of course, this is the least one would expect from a woman whose ten year plan has netted Aljaz as a life partner.

My sister’s #1 crush Steve Backshall is then matched with Ola, which is an absolute RESULT for la Jordan!  After James Jordan’s incessant tabloid bitching about his wife’s employer, I was convinced that they’d try and knock her out asap - but such is the power of a sexy calendar when seeking prime time ratings.  Of course it remains to be seen how snake-hipped Ola’s partner will be (GEDDIT!  Snake-hipped.  SNAKE-hipped. It’s a scary animal and Steve is a wildlife... oh never mind).  Either way, we can 100% rely on Ola to expose Steve’s chest when the going gets tough in week three.  If in doubt: nudity.

And then the moment all the lady pros have been waiting for.  Thom Thime.  Who’s going to get the future winner that is Thom ‘utter hotness’ Evans?  There's a *dramatic pause* then.....  DING DING DING JACKPOT FOR IVETAMAZING, who, quite wonderfully, completely ignores Thom until she has finished her ‘I win’ pose.  Congrats Iveta – that glorious MC Hammer cha cha with Mark Benton has completely paid off and you've been duly rewarded. 

Up in the Tesspit Balcony, Claudia then earns ALL THE PAYCHECKS by giving Iveta her condolences that she has been “paired with someone so utterly repellent”, before ripping the piss that the ordinarily chatterboxy Iveta has been stunned into a hormone-frenzied silence.  Even Ivetamazing and her apple cheekbones can’t handle the Thom jaw.  (My God, can you imagine the facial structure of their offspring!  Vogue are buying the rights as we speak.)

After all that hot flushness (just me? Of course not), we are treated to a New Pro Showcase, as Joanne, Trent and Tristan perform a ménage-à-trois fusion dance on a podium.   As ever, the new boys still have some proving to do, particularly with Robin and Artem’s pectorals now out of the mix.  Sure Trent and Tristan can dance (like, really dance), but they don’t look like the weights machine and steroids abuse feature heavily in their gym routines.  The Irish one hasn’t even shaved his chest yet – though perhaps we’ll come to appreciate a more natural look in due course. 

We’re then subjected to a band called Five Seconds Of Summer, who misleadingly play for far longer than their name optimistically suggests.  They have hair I do not understand and a tune that does not exist.  Karen and Kevin do a dance which mainly involves Karen sitting on the floor, though I’m not surprised they weren’t feeling choreographically inspired by that ‘musical’ number.

More match-making ahoy!

Caroline Flack is partnered with Pasha, which – well, he must have some dirt on someone, as Pasha always scores a good'n'lithe'un.  (Even Rachel Riley worked out in the end – sure, she may have been an awkward dancer, but apparently she and Pasha are now regularly performing a horizontal rumba, so...)  

Then again, Pasha probably doesn’t need to resort to blackmail as who would deny that adorable face anything it asked?

Jennifer’s up next and Anton grins like he knows he’s his turn, but the producers actually create an all-Ireland combo of Jenny and Tristan, which is a great call.  (Course, they’d never have dared in Bruce’s day - the risk of a steady stream of Irish jokes would’ve been waaaay too high.)  Tristan literally riverdances over to Jennifer and if I don’t see him in a satin green billowing shirt come Halloween there will be TROUBLE. 

Brendan and Anton then kindly show that the bantering (cough*bullying*cough) spirit of James Jordan is alive and well by imitating Tristan's dance in a bitchily mocking way.  Claudia immediately sorts them out: “Brendan, honestly, I will hurt you”.   Brendan looks genuinely petrified, MWAHAHAHA.

Pixie gets Trent, creating an incestuously blond frenzy of tits, teeth and perfect skin.  (Someone on the internet called them “the poster boy and girl for Hitler Youth”, which is oh so wrong, but oh so true.)

Matchmaking on pause, last year’s winner Abbey returns for a spin around the dance floor and we get the return of one of the true high points of the 2013 season... 

Aljaz's white waltz trousers.  

*fans oneself*

Sadly Aljaz isn’t wearing those trousers at the first pro/celeb group rehearsals, which come next.  The rehearsals are notable for having Claudia and Tess arrive on a tandem and Ivetamazeballs wearing skin-tight leopard-skin to rehearse, because, of course she is.  The dancers all bond and practice whilst Tess and Claude gossip about Thom at the side of the room.

Back to the studio for more Cilla-action.

Simon from Blue might not have his chiffon shirt slashed to the navel, as Thom does, but he's made up for it being being entirely bejewelled and wearing indecently tight slacks.  All the remaining lady pros are primed for the second best chance at the Glitterball and it's Kristina who gets the lucky ticket (WHOOP! My sweepstake!).  She goes from sullen to DELIGHTED in seconds and legs it towards him – he doesn't get the Donovan thigh clamp, but she does do some excitable bouncing and he carries her up the stairs Top Gun style.  She is still squealing.

Tim Antiques turns out to be rather charming and wants to learn ballroom for his wife of thirty years - that's some VERY clever back-story tactical action, which might see him eke out a second week.  In fact, Tim might even manage three weeks on the show, as he - somewhat surprisingly - scores Natalie as his partner.  In a masterclass of professionalism (no doubt she was pre-programmed), Natbot shows Aliona how it's done, by screaming ‘yes’, performing a merry boob shake at Tim and saying she had her eye on him from the start.  In Natalie’s defence, she may or may not be lying through her teeth, but she is one of the very few pros who actually makes eye contact with her partner.

Scott, bless him, didn't look that great at rehearsals, but is over the moon and visibly relieved to be partnered with ballroom world champion Joanne.  It will be like learning to drive in a Bentley, no doubt.

That means that Mark Towie has been put with Karen.  I'm truly surprised to find him quite charming at this point.  It's going to be an interesting test for Karen, who I loved with Dave Hairy Biker and found completely bland with Nicky Westlife – if fun brings out fun and beige brings out beige, let's see what this brings out...  A vajazzle within the month?

We get a quick detour via Smokey Robinson and Imelda May singing a harmonised version of Get Ready, whilst Brendan, Pasha and Trent try to out-do each other in the unbuttoned shirt stakes, before the last four are paired.

Alison is put with Aljaz, which he seems authentically happy about – Alison has moves, it's clear, and also the strength to pick Aljaz up and squeeze the very life out of him.  Harder, I mean, careful Alison, you’ll split his trousers.

Claudia asks Judy if she'd destroy all of Andy's trophies to win Strictly.  Judy jokily acknowledges that Wimbledon is quite hard to win, but ultimately proclaims that 'yes' she’d destroy the lot for that glitterball.  We learn that Andy and Jamie Murray will be “mortified” that their mum is donning lycra and attempting botafogos, but it's clear that Judy doesn't give a shit.  She draws the short straw that is Anton du Beke, but they both seem overjoyed, so that's ok.  At least Judy doesn't have to worry that she'll be shown up by a capable partner if she's rubbish at latin.

Sunetra ends up with Brendan, who doesn't throw the Aliona sulk you might have expected of his younger years, which means Kevin from Grimsby gets the reward of a trained performer in the form of Frankie Saturday.

And we're done!  Good pairings in the main - I feel like Natbot has got a fairly raw deal, but she's put an excellent spin on it, so we shall see.  Ola's been a right lucky bugger!  But then she is married to James Jordan, so rough and smooth and all that.

We're nearly there, and the launch show finishes as it always does - with the wonderful hot mess that is the group dance.  But FRANKLY, I think this one is my all-time favourite so far.  (Do I say that every year?)

I loved it because it was, at moments, hilariously terrible, but also because it was – in parts – genuinely good!   I started crying real tears of laughter right at the beginning when Scott Mills put on a Smashy and Nicey expression and pretended to scratch at the decks, and then didn’t stop chuckling throughout.  Everyone just looked like they were having a marvellous time – I fully wanted in, and not just to have Thom Evans hoick me up and spin me above his head.  It's worth a watch people - I swear I’ve watched the whole thing at least a hundred times.  The best bit is when the boys do their squat and flat-hands-down move.  It's... special.

And that, ladies and gents, is that – for now.  Three weeks for the pros to whip their victims into shape and then, come 26th and 27th September, WE ARE ON.

I CANNOT WAIT!

SERIOUSLY!

And so, it just remains for me to say...

KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP WATCHING!

Oh and pay up your pounds...!

Series 12 - The Draw

The 2014 Strictlycad Draw was performed by Mr Cad, and was (not so) independently observed by me, Strictlycad, and my sister, Isabelle, both, ahem, previous winners of this hallowed event.

It was a double blind draw: 

And the results are as follows:

Commiserations to Ben, who has ended up with Anton for an unprecedented third time.

Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep hoping!

Series 12 - Class of 2014. The Slebs

Frankie Saturdays

Pop star (girl band branch)

...Though I’m lead to understand her real name is Frankie Bridge, which seems like it should be a place, rather than the name of a pop star. She's the Saturday with the short hair, who used to be in S Club Babies, so I imagine she will be fairly capable at inappropriate gyrating, if nothing else.  Then again, I’d have said that Rochelle Saturday was going to be a shoo-in at Christmas, but after her ‘Giraffe bambi legs’ special...

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: She seems teeny. Kevin from Grimsby?

Judy Murray

Mum of Andy

An utterly inspired signing, if this nothing-short-of-schamazing Twitter beef with Yoko Ono is a reflection of anything. And how could it not be?  Those who see her as a furious haridan with no happiness in her bones have a surprise coming.  I'm sure she's genuinely intimidating, but the recent interviews I've seen suggest she's utterly hilare as well.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: If any grown woman can make Brendan Cole whimper and cry, it would her duty to partner him.  (Judy will blates get Anton.)

Alison Hammond

Token ITV presenter

From Big Brother when it was ‘good’ to an actual TV presenting job – that's living the nineties dream, that is. Alison seems a drinking-buddy-esque delight, and I’m willing to bet she’s secretly graduated from the Lisa Riley Big Girls Can Move Too School of Dance. I’m sure it was a terrible embarrassment at the time, but if you can recover from jumping on - AND BREAKING - a picnic table on national TV, you can cope with showing your cha cha to Craig Revel Horwood.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: Brendan please. Mainly as it will piss him off, because he's too shallow to see beyond lithe and thin.

Thom Evans

*SWOON KLAXON*

I swear I couldn't find the official Strictly photo, honest.

Also *Strictly Cad is about to go on at length about chesticles klaxon*

Anyone worried about missing Artem or Robin's man titties need worry no more – not only does Thom offer giant pecs, he also has a full head of hair and the squarest jaw known to mankind; it's like it was sliced with a sharpened spirit level.  And I've had time to observe, as I've had a giggly crush on both Evans brothers since I started courting a Scottish rugby fan seven years ago and was introduced to the joys of thigh watching rugby. I fantasy cast Thom in at least 2012, so I am clearly 100% personally responsible for this one. YOU ARE WELCOME.

Why is Thom famous? Oh yes. There's been some online sniping about Thom's lack of international rugby caps/achievements, which is a bit harsh, given that he had to give up professional rugby after suffering/surviving a horrific on-pitch neck injury, which could have, you know, killed him. After unsuccessful dalliances with Commonwealth sprinting and Kelly Brook (their joint levels of good looks unprocessable by us mere mortals), he opted not to go back to his pre-rugby 'career' of boy banding (click with caution), and turned his full attention to 'fitness modelling'. So he's a famous fitness model, sillies!

Anyway, google at your leisure and marvel at his laughably clichéd good looks (but be wary of some homoerotic pseudo incestuous definite NSFWness from the Dieux du Stade shoot).

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: I notice Natalie Lowe has already removed her hair extensions in anticipation of the acrylic-nails-eye-jab scrap over this one.

Simon Webb

Pop star (boy band branch)

One love for your mother's pride - what a lyric!  It's him out of Blue. More excitingly, I high-fived Simon at Eurovision. Simon appears to have done some sit ups in his time, so at least there'll be a lycra distraction from the excruciating cringe of the man rumba.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: Ivetamazing's paid her dues. She deserves a good 'un.

Mark Wright

Ugh. They went there.  

Yes, it's Ex-TOWIE meathead and professional tabloid fodder, Mark Wright. I'm guessing the BBC's *completely foolproof* plan is to steal the millions and millions and millions of ITV2 viewers over to Auntie by bringing in someone with the requisite IQ.  But maybe Mark has hidden depths.  I suppose he will be already used to fake tan and shirts unbuttoned to the navel.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: Teflon Aliona's bound to wangle someone with potential this year, so I hope it's Mark and I can panto-hate the pair of them. (Until they turn out to be adorably charming. The bastards.)

Sunetra Sarker

Her off Casualty

This year's Don't Know The Name But Oh Yeah I DO Know The Face. From that time she used a phone as a pretend defibrillator in some VT or other, she seems fun. That's all I have, I'm afraid.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: Why not Pasha?  Lovely Pasha.

Jake Wood

Him off the soaps

Baldy Evil Eastender doesn't really narrow it down much, does it? I don't think he's a Mitchell though, based on rudimentary watching at Christmas.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: Poor Kristina always gets the middle-weights. Why should this year be any different?

Steve Backshall

Nature TV presenter 

Steve's announcement immediately inspired this text from my sister: 

Topless likelihood? High?

Affirmative.

It's like they cast it purely to please us.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: I'm sure Karen could drum up the requisite enthusiasm about terrifying animals. And pecs.

Scott Mills

DJ

When Mr Cad and I are tired on a long car journey, we keep alert by supplementing caffeine intake with listening to Radio 1 on full blast.  It's 'better' than Red Bull.  Scott Mills is one of the more articulate Radio 1 DJs, but I mainly like him as he's the BBC's Eurovision deputy. So that's two Eurovision connections in this year's Strictly – it's fair to say my excitement levels are set to 'high'.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: Let's go with Joanne from Grimsby. Newbies usually get a nice ride.

Pixie Lott

Pop star (solo 'artist' branch)

She did that song about Boys and Girls. You know, all the boys, all the girls, la la la something.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: One of Trent or Tristan, the new, and no doubt initially interchangeable, pro boys.

Caroline Flack

TV presenter

Caroline reportedly shagged a young man named Harry Styles and everyone was shocked and appalled because SHE WAS OLDER THAN HIM. Well done, society. This is apparently one in the face for the X-Factor, who fired her last year.  So let me get this straight... we're trying to seek revenge on an ITV show, for which many Strictly viewers have limited-to-nil interest, by taking on someone they no longer wished to employ, because they - and the viewers - presumably didn't rate them much, so we're taking them on to draw attention to both that other show and the fact that the calibre of celebs this year is 'those who have undergone a sacking'? Way to go, Strictly Producers! Yet another brilliant ploy!

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: One of Trent or Tristan, the new, and no doubt initially interchangeable, pro boys.

Gregg Wallace

Cooking judge

All together now: “DANCING DOESN'T GET ANY TOUGHER THAN THIS”. Greg's the baldy judge from Masterchef who gets divorced a lot. Masterchef is that show that I'm sure I'd enjoy and want to blog at length, but there are already only so many hours and I'm not sure I have time to get sucked in.  Then again, I recently wikipedia-ed each and everyone of the individual Eggheads, so...

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: ¡Manrara! One more year to prove your mettle, Janette, then it's 2015: Ringer year. I'm with you!

Tim Wonnacott

Antique Expert

Antiques Roadshow Dandy. He'll be given kindly compliments about his waltz, the latin will be more of a challenge, and then we will say bye bye.  Not that the show's got formulaic or anything.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: Ola, no question. After James Jordan's petulant rantathon and Big Brother meltdown "I am the Brad Pitt of the dance worlds", there's no way they're risking her staying longer than Week 1 .

Jennifer Gibney

From Mrs Brown's Boys

Look, I don't watch Mrs Brown's Boys, but I know what it's like to have a Proper Lolz Shameful Comedy Secret: I flippin' LOVE Miranda. Sure, Jennifer Gibney isn't hugely famous, but fame is basically the least most important quality in a Strictly contestant, IMHO. I think this is a sterling line-up and can't wait to see Claudia and Tess manning HMS Strictly without Bruce in sight.  Haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, but, well, fuck 'em.

Strictly Cad's wildly inaccurate pro prediction: I actually don't think Jennifer will get Aljaz – that level of manprettiness will probably be reserved for one of the baby poptarts – but he's the only one left and I can't be bothered to rejig now. So why not Team Gibjaz? #teamgibjaz

Tumble Week 1: a (surely one-off) review

I'll be honest - I'm highly dubious about competitive televised celebrity gymnastics. Shameless (and, sure, some not so shameless) fame-seekers trying to pick up a highly specialised skill it takes years to hone and that's if you started at a young age...? Well, we all saw Splash. Actually we didn't - which is my point. 

Still, I lurrrrve watching gymnastics and GB's team members are on a bit of a post-Commonwealth high, so why not trying sticking slebs in lycra and getting them through the BAGA awards. If Your Face Sounds Familar can get commissioned then probably anything is possible. 

Indeed, things kick off VERY promisingly with a flipping good (FLIPPING! GEDDIT?!) group gymnastics routine. It's particularly enjoyable as one male gymnast has been styled in shiny cycling short unitards reminiscent of Miami beach's campest roller bladers, whilst the women are in seventies clown fabric one-armed leotards. The tumbles are rather watchable too. 

Alex Jones is in charge - she arrives from the ceiling on a giant hoop, but has opted for armour in dress form rather than a leotard. She introduces the judges:

Louis Smith, we know. His arms are as Mr Tickle-esque, and his hair as Mr Ridiculous-esque, as ever. 

 Then there's Nadia Comaneci – her of the perfect tens. She's in extra sharpened red heels and a power suit and looks AMAZING. Equally brilliantly, she continually says encouraging things with the delivery of a Bond villain about to kill, making "Good job!"sound like "And now you die." 

We also have circus performer and choreographer to the stars (Cher – so that's bona fide) Sebastian Stella. I zink ee iz Frrrrrrench. He has gigantic arms and, unexpectedly, a wife. 

Finally, Craig Heap is an ex-British gymnast, from when Team GB wasn't such a contender.  Despite being in his, let's say, forties, he has the hairstyle of a McFly member circa 2003. He's been cast as the severe judge for the audience to boo and whilst he generally remembers to use seemingly bitchy similes, for example, likening the contestants' tumbling to washing machines or Blackpool holidays, these always end up being nice comments – for Craig loves washing machines and Blackpool holidays. He scores everyone a 5 to compensate. 

Contestant time. Have we actually heard of our 'celebrity' tumblers? Well, yes, for the most part. We can't even always say that of Strictly. Who are they and how did they fare. Well... Let's do dis. 

By the way, they all have actual gymnasts to perform with, so it's not just a random famous person doing seven roly polys on a mat. 

Amelle of the Sugababes (who everyone is pretending are still a thing) looks like she's come fresh from a Vegas circus show – she's taut and bendy and quite happy to wrap herself around both hoop and gymnast man in shiny leggings and torso. She's excellent.

Is Peter Duncan the ringer? I mean everyone knows the Blue Peter audition requires demonstrating rgymnastic prowess (interviewing someone on a trampoline). His floor routine training VT suggests that his performance will mainly consist of a teeny athletic woman launching herself at him, whilst he vainly tries to catch her, as she careers over his head; culminating in a move called the pigeon. Come showtime, he's managed to learn the art of catching, as well as the art of 'balancing a woman on his head'. He's still to master the cartwheel though. 

Andrea McLean of Loose Women can't spin, which is problematic for a spinning aerial hoop routine. They try to compensate for this by implementing the tried and tested Strictly method of adding in a whole load of “messin' abaht” at the start - attaching a washing line to her hoop and having her start with some laundry. She looks ok once she gets up there though. Disappointingly, her partner Alex is not in demin-look lycra dungarees, as I had first thought, but in a stonewash vest.

H "from Steps" and "from being really, really annoying" meets his partner Holly then announces “and as if that wasn't amazing enough, my coach is called Alex”.  Meeting someone called Alex. Incredible. H is being asked to perform a dance routine and he's not happy about it, which seems odd, given how often he pedalled the Tragedy voguing on national television. Terrifying TV choreographer Karen Bruce gives him a stern onscreen 'pep talk' - it's a shame we didn't get to see the off-screen bollocking, as that would have been way entertaining. More Messin' Abaht, as H and partner (such a shame she's not a Claire) start by flipping burgers - if that's meant to be a kinetic pun than Must Try Harder. H does manage a backwards flip thing (Louis calls it “a round off top back”) and a handstand though, so that is some gymnastics. He also uses Holly's leg to play the guitar – which makes me wonder WHY DIDN'T THEY GET JET FROM GLADIATORS ON THIS?!

The Showmance plotline has been gifted to CBBC actor Bobby Lockwood – and it is being HAMMERED HOME with multiple references to “will they or won't they?” (they won't). The hoop routine is mainly ballad-y music (for the romantic) and excessive red light (for the SEX) just in case the five billion references to enforced chemistry left the viewers in any doubt. The routine does bring about some interesting comparisons though – Louis claims that he was as moved by the performance as he was when winning an Olympic medal (sheezus), whilst Craig compares his Commonwealth career with Nadia's perfect tens. Nadia looks fairly unimpressed – though it could be that she's had work done and has a fairly immovable face.

We then learn that Mr Motivator was supposed to be a contestant, but the show broke him before they reached primetime (noooooo!!!!). The BBC thank him for his service by making him appear in a skintight lycra catsuit of neon pink, yellow and green under his leg cast. *Sad face*

Lucy off of Towie does a floor routine consisting of fake tan and PG tantric sex positions on a sunbed. She's elegant enough and wisely lets her professional take on the actual gymnastics.

Sarah Harding is probably my third or fourth favourite Girl Aloud (it's a tough field out there - Nadine grabbed second when she threw a Twitter hissy fit that *she* didn't want the breakup. Nicola is always first). I can see why Kimberly got the Strictly gig though – Sarah, point your toes, woman! The climax of the routine is Sarah hanging off her partner's neck – which is scary, sure, but probably more of a reflection on his neck strength. Besides, Cheryl (fifth favourite) nailed acrobatic fearlessness on BBC1 prime time when she jumped off a balcony.

I wonder if we'll get Cheryl coming to watch one week. Mwahahahahahahahahadinfinitum,

Some woman from Dynasty who isn't Joan Collins or Stephanie Beecham does some floor work. She starts the routine in a fur coat so long it would rival Princess Diana's train. As for the gymnastics, well, I've sort of stopped concentrating, to be honest. I've also just realised this show is an hour and a half. AN HOUR AND A HALF.  I'm now using the fast forward function on my remote. Expect limited detail from this point. 

Ooooh, I thought boxer Carl Froch might fall off his hoop there, but he managed to stay on. He does seem quite strong though – there's a move where his partner hangs off his knees with her feet, which is up there with the Flavia/Matt mimsy spin from their somewhat amazing Strictly show dance.

They've obviously saved Eastender (and former Rum Tum Tigger) John Partridge to last as he's the best by a country mile – shame most people will have lost the will to care and/or live by this point. It also helps that he has a contortionist for a partner.  Bendy times. 

And that's the lot, fank Gawd. My tip would be to watch til Peter Duncan then stick it on x8 speed til the end. 

The end *is* worth watching though – the male Team England and Scotland Commonwealth gymnasts put on a highly entertaining Better Together routine, where they tumble and spin and pommel and vault their way through, on and around various apparatus, without the pressure of competitive scoring. There's a little bit too much deferring to Louis' pommel skills (amazing, sure) and an unnecessary bow tie jive interlude, but even with that it's the highlight. The best bit is Nile Wilson and Kristian Thomas on the high bar. But I love little Tintin-alike Nile. He just looks so overjoyed to be there. If they promise me Fragapane at some point then I'll be back for this bit. No question. 

Finally, we learn that there will be a vault off next week. Loser leaves. Potential facepalming or arsefallingon? OK. I'll probably watch. (I clearly will.)

My review in a nutshell: Tumble is quite good for the first and last 15 minutes, but like Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch and the big fat yellow Harry Potter (Order of the Phoenix?) it needs some SERIOUS pruning.

Series 12 - 2014 Show and Pro Preview

Out

So it's SEE YA wouldn't wanna BE YA to James Jordan's receding hairline. It's sort of sad to see James go, as I'd picked him out to be my panto Vilani this year, but there's solace in the thought that his Twitter feed will be an amazing source of genuinely bitchy petulance.  He's already started throwing all of his dance toys out of the dance pram.  I imagine it will make Arlene's post-firing marathon tantrum of RTing praise about herself seem like a mild gripe. Prepare for an onslaught of James Jordan fans throwing grammatically dubious versions of 'your' in our Twitter faces.

It's au revoir to Artem's inflatable man pecs too: 'visa problems' (got a job in Merica, innit). It's sad to see Strictly's facially-blessed 3D manchesticals disappear, but we've still got the beauty in Aljaz and the steroid-ed nipple action in Robin, so we can continue to objectify men enjoy the main male aesthetics of Saturday night ballroom dancing prime time. And let's not forget Kevin From Grimsby's glasses.

In

Another From Grimsby no less – Kevin's sister Joanne. (*screams of nepotism!!!!* Oh yes, most morally unsound for Strictly to hire the reigning Ballroom World Champion.)  It's sad that Bruce is leaving just as a name he won't mangle arrives on the scene (NB: IT IS NEVER A SHAME THAT BRUCE IS LEAVING).

Actually, Bruce might well have coped with the name "Tristan McManus", who is newbie #2 and the Man Newbie.  Tristan is Oirish, which is technically foreign, but something tells me the Daily Mail won't be so quick to churn out another 'oooh, they're all foreign dancers on Strictly oooh Britain is DOOMED oooh foreign urgh here's a picture of (foreign) Ola in her pants oooh urgh baaddd' article this time.  Anyway, Tristan seems not-unpretty (which is all we have to judge on, OK?)

Oh and yes – goodbye to Bruce Forsyth. I'll admit that you weren't a terrible captain of HMS Strictly in the early days, but you should probably have walked the plank a little sooner - METAPHORICALLY I MEAN.  I genuinely wish Brucie a happy, relaxing, golf, private tap-dancing and joy-filled retirement - away from our screens.

Back

Natbot Lowe – her leg has been mechanically repaired and my Nats-based hatred has been completely deprogrammed, so I'm cautiously excited about her return.  But let's see whether her NAKED AMBITION chip has been fully disabled, as there's always the risk that the Winning-Versus-Appearing-Lovely settings might get overridden once Natbot starts her necklashwhipping ballroom head spins going- it takes a sturdy fembot control board to survive that kind of pressure.

Teflon Aliona has somehow wiggled her way back into the full time list too. HAHAHA – I'm so impressed by her staying power that maybe I don't even dislike her anymore. (Of course I do.  HELLO OBVZ.)

!!! I've just realised that I completely forgot to add Anya Garnis to the Out list. I think that says it all, sadly. You remember Anya... Partnered Patrick... Did a Chitty Bang Bang number... Looked about fifty on It Takes Two and about twenty years younger on the show... Yes, her!  Sorry Anya.  Am sure Hayley Holt will have some words of comfort for you.  You remember Hayley Holt... Clad Mark Foster's giant chest in mesh material... Um... Um.

Last year's survivors - the women

Hooray for the return of Ivetamazebombz and ¡Janette! ¡Manrara! who I like, even if I am ON MY OWN.  Yes, ¡Janette! is probably back because Hot Aljaž is her boyf, but she dealt with Julien Macdonald last year - and for more than one week. AND she didn't get to go to Florida as compensation.  The BBC totally owe her.

Ola's back too - and Jamesless no less.  Whilst her mortal enemy Karen Hauer will be surrounded by her fiancé-from-Grimsby and her sister-in-law-to-be-from-Grimsby, so Ola had better be on her best behaviour (without James to wind the world up, I'm sure she'll be fine.  Let's not forget the Chris Hollins Lovely Olachops year, eh?).  It's a KEY year for Karen, in my mind. Year 1 was boring Nicky Beigelife. Year 2 was comedy fruitbowl hat Dave Hairybiker. Year 3 will probably seal her TV personality in my mind for at least a decade to come regardless of how she acts in the future. So it's all to play for!

And then there's Poor Kristina Rihanoff.  Oh Poor Lovely Kristina. :-( She's going to get the dud this year, isn't she? And not the 'oh so nice and handsome shame he can't dance' dud, but the real actual 'he's in his sixties, no-one female or gay has really heard of him and he's only doing the show which he's never watched because his agent talked him into it ah well you'll only have to perform in the first week anyway' dud. Hang on in there Rihanoff! You might get to thigh clamp in 2015!

Last year's survivors - the men

Aljaž Skorjanec – so preeeety

Pasha Kovalev – so lovely

Kevin Clifton – so spexy

Robin Windsor – so peccxy

Brendan Cole – so old

Anton du Beke – so very, very old, but at least he's not presenting. PHEW.

Still no...

Katya – BOO. SHAME ON YOU, STRICTLY. SHAME ON YOU.

Hoping for an It Takes Two slot

Ian surely? Unless he's run out of especially long and especially tight trousers.

Erin? She's got a baby these days, so is probably quite delighted not to having to nurse Anton busy. But hopefully she'll pop by with baby in tow for some televisual Ball and Boag squealing.

In charge

And the whole thing will be womanned by TessDressMess and Claudia – YAY TO THAT!

But first, Summer.  So enjoy the three days of sun and the rain on the Bank Holiday Weekend, people.  It will be darker evenings, the lurgy going round and not having to shave your legs every bloody day before we know it. Hooray! 

In the meantime, keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep your money safe – for the sweepstake beckons...

Series 11 - The Final

And so the trophy goes to… well, the wrong winner, I think.  (Sorry Abbey!)  I was always Team Natalie, and that was even before she pulled out the American Smooth to out-do any other: all intense craze-eye, mascara down the face emotional, dance-gurning to the very core of her dance-pain.  She went to the very edge of her everything and ended up "TOUCHING THE DIVINE" (this may have been Artem, but it wasn't entirely clear).  Anyway, after that, like an alien invasion brainwash wave across the UK, the Great British Public suddenly accepted that there was no right choice beyond Natalie Domination, but…. well, it was too late to get enough phone action in (I'd already used my five free interweb votes, so…).  Look, I don't think Abbey was a terrible winner (I mean, I didn't hit the rage-level I did when Tom Chambers beat out Beige Rachel), but it did feel like a bit of an unfair anti-climax. 

£15: As for the sweepstake, happier times - well done to one of my original stakees, Vicki, who beat out her dad Terry, as well as Holly and Justine, to win the pot.  KER, and indeed, CHING.

And let's continue to focus on the positive - congrats to brave Aljaz, so very very hot, I mean, talented, and surely destined to return again next year to dance with another lithe young thing (sure it's Robin's turn, but he's hag til he dies, I'm afraid).  It should have been clear where the female phone votes were going to go the instant Aljaz appeared in the male-pro finalists showcase during the opening Scarlet Frenzy pro number.  He was beaming and latin-ing, the first to show off his wafty arms and jelly legs, before Brooding Artem, If-we-must Brendan and Energetic Kev.  That first pro dance was a total corker - especially after a season of less-than-memorable perfs.  And wardrobe outdid themselves with the four finalists' red dresses.  Christmas was RUINED when none of them appeared in my stocking.

Let's crack on, shall we? Ding ding ding, round one!

Judges' choice: Some good choices, actually - either very early dances late joiners were unlikely to have seen or a dance they royally messed up first time (SUSANNA).  Also, inexplicably, Sophie's Sound of Music Viennese Waltz, which was total meh, as far as I was concerned.  Perhaps, like me, the judges were hoping for ACTUAL KITTENS this time, in which case: thwarted. 

Natalie's Cha-cha-chasputin was a more welcome return - cue Artem's bootaloons and Colgate smile.  It was still a little too controlled and the choreography felt very Week 1 (maybe they weren't allowed to pimp it up for the final), but the song remained an earwormtastic delight.

On the subject of super-cheese, it was good to see Susanna nail her Quickstep Take Two - I was shouting her on from my living room, as she edited out last time's mistakes, didn't kick Kevin in the shins, and tumbled over the sofa successfully.

But Abbey's waltz was probably the most accomplished of the four repeat dances (helped by being in hold).  It was a vision in white; lovely and dreamy (in all senses, including a slight snoozeiness).  Possibly, this was wot won it for her.  That and Aljaz in those white trousers.

Anyway, those were ones they'd done earlier…  There's only one way to separate the Colin Jacksons from the Tom Chamberses (GRRRRR).  It's show(dance)time!

Showdances: Four dances, three disappointments, so not the worst ratio, given the historical stats.

It was Natalie who pulled it out the bag, with a BRILLIANT best of.  I was extremely worried when it looked like there was a pole-dancing session planned (yay! feminism!), but even that was fine in the end - as Darcey put it, she enjoyed them "using a structure to enhance the dance effect".  (So that's what ballerinas call previous work experience at Stringfellows, said Mr Cad.)  At first I wondered if Natalie had overly slippy shoes, as she looked a bit tentative, but fairly quickly she remembered this was probably her last dance and the UTTER INJUSTICE drove her on to, well, the best showdance I can remember - and certainly the best one which includes tap-dancing (in your FACE Chambers).  My one criticism is her gold washing up gloves and (oh, apparently I have two criticisms) having Artem unnecessarily dressed.  I mean, having Artem unnecessarily dressed as The Mask.  Not sure why I trailed off there...

Susanna and Kevin's showdance was basically 60% neck spin, 30% smoke machine and 10% faux-verblown intensity.  But it was 100% worth it to hear Darcey throw in a total clanger of a slate: "no wow-factor".  My GOD, Susanna's face!  Fuming beneath the ever professional daytime smile.  La Bussell can kiss goodbye to any Daybreak-based promotion (once ITV win the inevitable bidding war).

There was even more smoke machine use in Abbey's tango doble - but not quite enough bite (though it was hard to judge, given that it was mostly obscured by the dry ice action). I'm impressed that Aljaz didn't come out with massive weld marks on his face from where Abbey repeatedly smacked him with her paso plait.  The Arse Appreciation thread might have moved on to his stomach by now - for the record, yes it was taut, but it takes A LOT to overlook the vulgarity of a criss-cross tummy girdle and Eurotrash leather waistcoat with sequin stud detail.  I'm not sure even Aljaz…  Then again… Tough call.

Speaking of eighties throwbacks, oh Brenda(n) - was a latin-inspired dance *really* the best call?  At least Sophie looked like she has having a blast.  Frankly, she should have just done another charleston - no-one would have had a problem with double Gatsby.  I mean, apart from anything else, it's the one acceptable context in which a woman can wear a gold playsuit. 

Indeed, speaking of…  It was time to hunt around on the iPlayer to see what we could watch instead of Atlantis.  And then...

DRAMATIC ANNOUNCEMENT TIME.

I'll be honest, I was fully expecting Natalie to go and was primed to to scream HUMBUG TRAVESTY all over the internet.  But no!  For Sophie and Brendan's names were called.  In the end, although Sophie probably was the weakest dancer of the four on the night, I just felt a bit deflated that she'd donned her bob wig and spangle pants for nuttin'.  I think it's only fair for me to direct you here.  There'll be very few dances from this series I'll rewatch, but that charleston will be one of them.  (The others will mainly be Dave in satin.)

Couple's favourite: I thoroughly enjoyed the campfest that was Kevin and Susanna's Blackpool paso, but it lost some attack in the studio, I think (also, Kev should have totes got his nips out for the final).  Abbey and Aljaz's quickstep was as messy as the first time, with enough gapping to warrant a tube warning.  It was a bizarre choice, but, given the end result, whaddaIknow?

I know nothing, really, as I actually thought Natalie and Artem's decision to do their Dreamgirls American Smooth was a bit of a dud one - well, how wrong was I?  (Very.)  My excuse is that I'd been gunning for their long lost Tina Turner jive, but no regrets, other than Natalie cranking up the proper realz emotion about twelve dances too late. I could gush on a whole lot, but let's just leave it at this: it was such a good dance it made Artem cry.  CRY.  Amazeballs.

Tessdressmess: Also amazeballs: double TessTess DressDress YesYes!  From Aztec snowflake bodice to black cocktail origami - rather fetching and BOOBS IN PLACE.  A Christmas miracle.  It's been a rocky road, but we ended in a good place.  Well done TessTess - I'm looking forward to a range of mess and success next year.  It wouldn't be the same if I couldn't get angry about your wardrobe and mammary placement.

Celeb Final Group Dance: Another tradition which tends to me a hot mess - so imagine my surprise when we got one which was actually really good.  The key was mainly not making the ones-that-couldn't-dance dance.  Tony had to putt; Vanessa had to stand on a desk (particular bravos for a knicks-free camera angle); Julien had to strut (reigning it in, very very well, especially with all the shiny lights which could have, um, distracted him); Deborah (who could dance) got wheeled in on her dragon chair; Rachel expertly manipulated her Countdown board (disappointingly only spelling 'STRICTLY' rather than, say, 'CRAIG IS A BELLEND') and Dave got to bounce on a motor bike (disappointing too - why not wheel him in on a fruit trolley, EH?).  

Then the ok dancers got a look in - Fiona, who, for me, hilariously stole the show by looking tipsy and waving a plastic Sainsbury's Basic empty cocktail glass; Ben chucking around Kristina and a rugby ball; Mark hip-hopping with MC Ivetamazing before doing the dinosaur (not many Strictly exes get to found a signature move).

Then ATD did a bit of piss-ripping and leg flailing on a flying carpet and finally Patrick honked Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and got to front the VERY LIMITED mass dance, which even Rachel could just about manage.  Good times!  And a good cast, all told.  Just a shame they dressed the lady-pros in flammable ruffled toilet roll covers - Anya in peach drew the particularly short straw.

I quite enjoyed Putting on the Ritz too, in spite of Robbie 'Robin' Williams (thanks Bruce) and his attempt to go Clooney (sorry RW, some way to go yet).  I think the newbie dancers have earned their place for next year, so I suspect the pro-dancer bidding is going to be cutthroat in 2014.  I'm not going to be betting on the Jordans I don't think - regardless of their (Ola's) popularity, I have a feeling they've pissed off a few too many powers that be.  (Oh and James can come across like an absolute tool jockey.)  Teflon Aliona will be there though - somehow, anyhow, probably training in Barbados.

So there we have it, though not before they wheeled out all the previous winners (EVEN ALESHA!) for some talking head stuff and old dance clips, reminding us (a) of all the pros they'd fired and (b) that once Abbey was announced, 2013 wasn't quite the vintage crown year - a good ride through the weeks, yes, but probably the wrong result.  

But I don't want to leave things on a downer.  Abbey did some wonderful dances and didn't come across (to me anyway) as the vacuum-headed materialistic show pony we might have assumed she was.  Sure, she wasn't ever happy with her hair and sometimes had trouble focusing on whoever was talking to her, but she seemed comparatively down-to-earth, you know, for a WAG (I mean 'model and presenter').  Besides, I'm not sure Strictly is always about the winner - often it's about the JOURNEY (*and the crowd spews*) and the whole billion week shebang.  On that note, I'm off to watch the Myers Trilogy: Dave Like Jagger, DaveLoaf, Dave Fruit Trolley, via Mark C Hammer and Natalie TOUCHING THE DIVINE.  Those are my moments of the series - alongside Bruno falling off his chair.  Thanks for skimming my nonsense each week folks!  See you for Apprentice / Eurovision / Bake Off season.  Till then, keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep dancin'!