Tag Archives: Ola Jordan

Strictly: Time to talk about the norks

It’s time for this blog to readdress the balance of discussion. No socio-political analysis this week. Time to talk about the norks. And the outfits.

This week is Movie Night! We can tell this because the dancers come out dressed up in immediately obvious outfits. Harry is Clint Eastwood. Robbie and Ola are The Blues Brothers. Jason and Kristina are Bonnie and Clyde; James and Alex are doing James Bond. First we get a bit of jiving to Saturday Night at the Movies by the professionals, which is the only time we get to see Flavia and her beautiful cheekbones. We need more of Flavia and less of Vincent’s eyebrows. In fact, none at all of Vincent’s eyebrows.

Bruce’s intros are particularly dreadful and he fluffs his first lines. When will the BBC learn that the novelty value of having an old duffer in his eighties shuffling around on stage and mumbling utter rubbish has gone? They’ve got Tess right this week though – lovely culotte jumpsuit (MaxMara), red lips, Rita Hayworth waterfall hair. It’s always such a relief when they’ve remembered to give her a supportive undergarment and I don’t have to spend the Tess’s Nest bits averting my eyes as her boobs slowly descend waistwards.

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Strictly: Back where it belongs.

Russell Grant fired from Wembley

I’m going to sound a bit of a grump, I know, and I hate to spoil the atmosphere and all that, but last week’s Strictly was, I thought, the worst I’d ever seen. Wembley Arena was a rubbish venue for the average TV viewer. It might have been enjoyable for those actually there, which is why the dancers and Brucie seemed genuinely so excited about it all, but sitting at home, it just looked and sounded completely wrong. I haven’t spoken to anyone this week who thought it worked well at Wembley. Anyway, the long and short of it is I was glad to see things back in the studio this week.

They seemed to give the show an X-Factor style intro, with Tess giving the stats from last week’s show, and recounting the celebs meeting the Doochess of Cornwall. This week was a two-dance week, with the couples performing a ‘swingathon’ as well as the usual ballroom or latin effort. I always find the thought of a swingathon mildly disturbing, with images of a 70s style keys-on–the-table party flitting through my mind, but then we do live in Crowborough where that sort of thing happened all the time, so I’m told. (Note to self – remove the Pampas grass from the front garden).  Continue reading

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Strictly Come Dancing: “Live from a municipal swimming pool”

My father, a secondary school teacher, was a marvellous man in many ways, but he had some mysterious prejudices. Back in the 1984, when Frankie Go To Hollywood released ‘Relax’ and, thanks to DJ Mike  Read, it was banned from Radio 1 and Top of the Pops, dad announced how nonsensical a decision it was. “A harmless song,” he said. The song that he thought was filthy, explicit muck that would cause terrible damage to innocent young minds was ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’ by WHAM.No, I have no idea what he was on about either. But both songs were featured in this week’s Strictly, live from Wembley Arena, and I don’t think any youthful minds were irredeemably corrupted by Dave Arch and his orchestra.

The best way to watch Strictly, other than knocking back a shot every time Brucie makes a crap pun or Tess gives a rictus grin, is to follow the witty comments on Twitter. Despite all the build-up, Wembley is a ghastly place for this week’s show. It all came across as very Saturday Night Special to me, especially the opening group dance number to a Queen medley. I thought the dance floor far too big, and the sound quality dreadful. Sue Perkins tweeted: “Judging by the sound, this week’s Strictly is coming live from a municipal swimming pool”.

But leaving that aside, what of our dancers? Robbie and Ola kicked off quite literally on rather odd podiums that looked like giant drums. Ola sported a big curly hair ‘do and a skintight, blue and silver catsuit which showed off her pierced bellybutton. In fact, other than whiskers and a tail, she looked like a character from Cats. It was certainly an outfit that drew the attention of all heterosexual males (“one for the dads” as a friend put it), although when Robbie ripped his shirt open, it was a pleasant distraction for some of the rest of us. Their routine included a scary leapfrog and some lifts that looked, from my perspective, like his face was buried in her crotch. But then again, I know nothing about dancing. I’ve come to quite like Robbie, but I expect him to be in the bottom two this week, and he might go (either him or Anita is my guess).

Alex and James performed an excellent tango to ‘Relax’ (and I’m sorry, but it’s a belter of a song, and needs a more throbbing bass than Dave Arch and his lovely orchestra can produce. It also needs the fine and filthy voice of Holly Johnson). But Alex and James’ tango was superb, and her confidence in their dance relationship has vastly improved. I liked the use of vast, white floor-to-ceiling ribbons in the routine, it broke up the vast echoey ‘sports hall’ feeling of the place. In terms of their dance, Craig said, it was “sharp, staccato, theatrical and intense” and it was. I like Alex and I want her to do well. Many are suggesting Jason and Harry as potential overall winners, but I’m hoping to see Alex or Chelsee up there myself. Continue reading

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Strictly Come Dancing: *Everything* needs to be leaner

I must confess to experiencing Strictly ennui this week. How much of this is the result of watching Singin’ in the Rain on BBC2 this afternoon I can not say. Though as I sat transfixed by the glorious Gene Kelly (not to mention the brilliant Donald O’Connor and Debbie Reynolds) I knew I would be turning a more critical eye than ever on SCD.

But it’s not all Gene Kelly’s fault. I have to confess that I can no longer bear to watch the dull VTs of training and other loosely-related shenanigans or Bruce’s terrible and/or homophobic jokes. I am prepared to risk missing a nugget of TV gold if it means saving my brain from these horrors.

I am also beyond tired of the pantomime reaction from the audience to the judges’ (usually) constructive criticism. I’m surprised Len hasn’t snapped back at them before now to be honest.

And don’t get me started on Bruce perpetuating the myth that a straight man needs protecting from a gay man who finds him attractive. That’s a whole other blog post on its own.

These, then, are the things that I did enjoy this week:

  • Alex’s energy, though even I could see her kicks and flicks were not crisp enough *learned from the master face*
  • Twitterer @fionalaird’s comment on the lovely Audley, that he “basically stands around in time to the music”. I fear this will be his last week.
  • I’d pay to watch Harry make a microwave meal for two, so very happy with his Argentinian tango. I’m with Velocity Girl on predicting a place in the final for Harry.
  • Jason showing the audience why Craig’s on the panel – so that the celebrities can listen to constructive criticism and improve their performances.
  • Chelsee was lovely to watch, I’m hoping she makes it to the final as well.
  • Robin doing the Argentinian tango. What do you mean I’m supposed to be watching Anita Dobson? Robin’s mesmerising, and Anita’s not. No matter how good her legs look ‘for her age’.
  • The threesome in Holly’s training room. Brendan becomes infinitely less annoying when he’s dancing with Artem. (And yes, poor, brave Artem – the hottest man on the show, stuck on the sofa. Let us cross everything and hope he’s back on the dancefloor soon.)
  • Russell Grant looking like something out of Doctor Who this week in that sparkly yellow eyeshadow AND incorporating a costume change. Even if he did look like a giant Ferrero Rocher as Len phrased it.

I’m sorry to be such a grump, but truly Strictly could do worse than listen to the advice Craig would dish out to it: “Dahling, you went on too long, there’s too much padding. It needs to be crisper. And dump the doddery bigot who can’t read the teleprompter.”

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Strictly Come Dancing: Goodness, gracious, great balls of glitter

My crystal balls are in my pants

It’s bad news when someone mentions something daft and YOU CAN’T GET IT OUT OF YOUR HEAD. I’m looking at you Mrs Our Man In The South. You and your comments about Russell Grant’s highly visible testicles. It was fine before. It had never crossed my mind to look ‘down there’. And bless him, but Russell’s not a man whose physique your eye is normally drawn to. Not like Harry Judd. But once you know, you just can’t look anywhere else. I’m not sure if it’s the clingy fabric of the costume, or if he should be wearing rather more supportive underwear. A ‘cup’ of some sort? I dunno. I’m not an expert. I know a bit about the use of heavily engineered, built-in bras in the women’s costumes to keep their modesty intact (despite Chelsee’s anxieties last week, the engineering held, it all worked fine – nothing was seen). But frankly I’m at sea when it comes to keeping male genitalia in its proper place in dancewear.

Actually, the woman I blame first and foremost for the downhill slide into silliness in the testicular region is Sue Perkins. She was tweeting about the up-coming appearance of a squirrel with monumentally vast bollocks prior to the final show in the Great British Bake-off series. I now can’t even remember who won the bloody thing, nor anything they cooked in the show. All that hard work and you’re upstaged by a well-endowed rodent. Must be sickening.

Nut job

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Strictly Come Dancing: Scary stuff

Ooh, Miss Jones

It was Halloween Special on Strictly. I must confess I’m of an age when I’m not sure Halloween, as an event, merits a special of anything(apart from Psychoville). Far too much fuss made of it these days. When I was a kid, you might have a bit of enforced apple bobbing and a pumpkin in the window, but that was it. Now, we have a whole Saturday night’s light entertainment on both channels devoted to it.

In keeping with the theme, the show starts with a mildly embarrassing Addams family group dance, before a terrifying wizened member of the living dead appears – oh, hang on – it was Brucie, making the traditional weekly grab for Tess’s upper thigh.

Like Velocity Girl, in last week’s review, I must confess to getting a bit fed up with all the padding in Strictly at the moment. The show is plenty long enough without all the quirky videos. It’s fine to see a bit of training, but all this; “Alex was told by the judges last week that she needed to be sexier, so I decided to take her to a live sex show” is wearing a bit thin. We had Chelsee and Pasha visiting a school, Alex and James abseiling (yeah, yeah – it wasn’t really a sex show, but you get my drift), Harry and Aliona poncing about in the London Dungeon, and a horrific dream sequence for Jason featuring Ann Widdecombe of which the least said about, the better. In the words of Len, please stop all this messing about. A bit of training, and just do the bloody dance. For the last couple of weeks, we’ve recorded Strictly, which means you can whizz through all the extraneous nonsense and save a good half hour. I’d recommend it.   Continue reading

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Strictly Come Dancing: Brace Yourselves!

It’s back! The countdown to Christmas begins with the proper return of Strictly Come Dancing (I’m ignoring the pre show the other week when we saw which professional had been landed with which celeb). Even the announcer beforehand seemed to be camping it up for the start of the Strictly season.

Unlike X Factor’s drastic revamp, Strictly has kept things pretty much the same. Bruce’s ‘jokes’ remain as strained and awkward as ever, and his carer, Tess Daly, continues to wear the weirdest of outfits, prompting the weekly, “what has she got on?” from Mrs OMITS. I do like Bruce, though. There’s something comforting about having him still as a regular Saturday night feature on our screens (I know it’s Friday, but you know what I mean). My Mum doesn’t agree. She is visiting for the weekend, and watched it with us. At one point, Bruce quipped “I nearly went off there.” I distinctly heard “I wish you would”, emanating from the aged P.

The judges remain unchanged too, though Craig Revel Horwood has had a new hair cut foregoing the mullety look of last year. Len Goodman’s still a bit grumpy (‘You’re getting on my wick already”, he said to the audience after they booed a negative comment), Shy and retiring Bruno Tonioli needs to work on his confidence but I’m sure will come out of his shell as the series continues, and Alesha Dixon provides a generally supportive and matey flavour to the comments  from someone who’s been there and done it. I like Alesha, but I do hope she manages to sort out her tenses this year -“You was excellent” does tend  to grate a bit after week five.

For the first weekend (half on Friday, and half on Saturday) no one leaves the show, but their points do get carried forward to next week when someone will be kicked off. I know she hasn’t danced yet, but my money’s on Edwina Currie as the first to go. Not sure why, other than I find her irritating. Always have. Mind you not as irritating as Ann Widdecombe last year, and look what happened to her.

One of the strengths of Strictly is, I’ve always thought, Dave Arch and his Orchestra. That band can do anything. The vocalists are consistently amazing, often delivering performances that outshine the originals and add to the sensitivity of the dancing. Amazing stuff.

This year, we do get the option of live commentary from Karen Hardy and a celeb (tonight, Katy Brand) on the red button, but I instantly forgot that, and didn’t avail myself of their services.

Holly Valance (emphasis on the ance) and Artem kick things off with the cha cha cha, and for a first dance, put in a pretty solid performance. Holly said that her experience of cavorting around in pop videos doesn’t make her a dancer, but it obviously gave her a physical confidence that your present correspondent never developed during ‘music and movement’ at school.

Len said, ‘not the best first dance I’ve seen’ (booo), ‘but it was close’ (hurrah!)

Dan Lobb (from Daybreak – I know – I’ve never seen it either)) and Katya Virshilas do the waltz, and to my untrained eyes, seemed to do pretty well. Craig wasn’t pulling any punches though, even for a first night; ‘hideously rigid topline’ and ‘transformations were clunky’ or something.

Next came Lulu and Brendan Cole with a cha cha cha. Hopes had been high for Lulu, who looks in great shape, and is a proper showbiz legend, but who looked devastated to be given Brendan has a partner. Oh dear. It all went very wrong. Len succinctly summed it up; ‘lots of boombangabang, but nothing to shout about.’ Craig was even more focussed in his critique; ‘disaaaaaaaaster’! Alesha was more encouraging, but then she can’t criticise Lulu can she?

Audley Harrison and Natalie Lowe performed a waltz and he was surprisingly light on his feet for such a large chap. Len liked it, though Craig was back in the ‘disaaaaaaster’ zone, moaning about his hands or suchlike. I’d be careful laying into his hands too much, to be honest, in case he gives you a closer look, Craig.

Robbie Savage and Ola Jordan were next.  Hmmmm. I like Ola, and it turns out we share the same birthday, so she gets my vote. The Savage fella, I’m less sure about. To my mind, being known as the dirtiest player in the Premiership is nothing to boast about, especially when one looks like a preening fop, and this bad boy image is going to get rammed down our throats until he’s voted off. They danced to – ahem – ‘Bad Boys’. A bit of strutting and some dodgy pelvic thrusts, and Craig rightly pointed out that it was all about the look rather than the dance.

Anita Dobson & Robin Windsor turned in a very nice waltz. You can tell the performers – they have a distinct advantage over sportsmen and other celebs who don’t have that experience of expressing themselves on stage. The judges loved it.

It was the turn of Russell Grant and Flavia Cacace next. I must confess a bias here as Flavia is my favourite professional and looked stunning.  I wasn’t really looking at Russell Grant, though I hear he did quite well for a ‘comedy’ turn and will probably be very popular. Mrs OMITS queried whether you could see his testicles down the leg of his trouser, but, as I say, I wasn’t looking.

In the round up clips at the end of the show, Holly Valance looked even better than she had first time round. By then we’d realised what everyone else looked like, and she and Anita Dobson were in joint first place, with Lulu, rightly, and unfortunately, languishing at the bottom of the table.

Tonight, the remaining celebs get to Dance. Will the collision of Edwina Currie’s and Nancy Del Olio’s egos cause a rethink of the laws of physics? I can’t wait to find out.

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Strictly Week 9 Results – Ding, Dong, The Wid’s Not Dead!

Firstly, confession time – I HATE the results show (so much so I’ve lapsed into capitals AGANE). However, as promised, here it is. And to be fair, the whole experience wasn’t as intolerable as I thought it would be.

Firstly, hooray for the showdance! Purpley, whirly, jivey, chairy, close up on Brendan Coley (well, you can’t have it all). Quite long but the audience went nuts at the end so who am I to quibble?

Then we had some very interesting judges chat. Worth it simply for the spectacle of Bruno attempting to demonstrate the Argentine Tango with Craig, who looked far less alarmed than he should have done, frankly. The judges took the proverbial out of Gavin with various unflattering impressions. I managed to have sympathy for Gavin for the whole 5 seconds before he opened his mouth and revealed himself to be a vain, self-aggrandising bore again. Sigh.

Bye bye Patsy, Patsy bye bye...

Results stage one revealed that the general public (yeah, those animals) had saved Matt and Aliona (I don’t particularly like him but fair enough, he is good), Pamela and James (SQUEAL!) and Ann and Anton (I’m sure my flat screen telly will recover from this news one day). In the drop zone were Patsy and Robin. Bye bye, flat screen telly, the times we shared together were good ones.

I would comment on the lovely showdance James and Ola did at this point, but the sight of Ann Widdecombe dressed up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz to trail next week’s “Movie Week” afterwards pretty much rendered everything else insignificant. As a friend of mine put it via text message, “honestly, it’s like the BBC are begging the gay rights lobby to send them letter bombs”.

Results stage two revealed that the general public (to whom I am resolutely not speaking from now on) had finally struggled to their senses and saved Kara and Artem and Scott and Natalie. People who can actually dance. I know, how novel! Leaving Gavin and Katya to sit through the sub-Snow Patrol drivel of James Blunt before learning that…. PATSY = GONE!

To be fair, me liking any woman on Strictly is enough to put the mockers on her – so long Carol Smillie, tata Letitia Dean, au revoir Zoe Ball. But still, Patsy was amazingly gracious considering and even thanked the make-up staff. The judges shook their heads, the Strictly band managed not to murder Crying by Roy Orbison and we were told once again to KEEEEEEEP DANCING!

Which is more than Ann Widdecombe can seem to be bothered to manage. Gragh.

For previous Strictly blogs, click here

Typed in a trashed front room by a particularly grumpy Velocity Girl

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Strictly: hot night for grand dames & Blue Peter presenters

The kind of slack blogger I am (and because I’ve been sulking about the gap between first and second shows) means I hadn’t realised Strictly was on last night (friday) as well as this evening. With that many couples kicking off, I guess they need to spread the joy. But happily I caught it by fluke, and despite the absence of Doris Karloff in the first show (not kind tweeting Sue Perkins, shame on you. Oh yes, and me for repeating it), it was a jolly fine spectacle. What made me really happy was how hot Felicity Kendal and Pamela Stephenson were (even if the latter was a tad gushy, but hey). I’m younger than them, but can I bend like that? Could I wear those costumes and not look like a drag queen after a month of binge eating pastry goods? No. They were seriously impressive. Every male I know fancied FK in The Good Life. I found her a bit too winsome and perky. But last night, 30 years on and wearing a lemon sherbet dress, she was amazing. And so was Pammy. Both seem to have developed incredible physiques in two weeks. Hot as hell the pair of them. And they danced well too, especially PS. Made me strangely proud, as if somehow, after 2 weeks of laying off the baked goods and dancing for hours every day with an attractive young man would transform me too, rather than ending up in casualty with my dance partner having a nervous breakdown.

And the other surprise of the night was Matt ‘Blue Peter’ Baker. He did not look hot, dressed as he was in a very strange cling-on farmer outfit, which looked like one of those paper costumes with tabs you’d get in girls’ magazines like Tammy to dress up the cut out model in her pants. But by golly, he was very sexy once he got moving. It was an astonishing transformation. Who knew he could do gymnastics? Biddy Baxter would be proud. Or possibly horrified.

The same can’t be said for Paul Daniels. Poor Ola. Dressed like a prawn and dancing with one, she didn’t have a good evening. She knew she drew the short straw, quite literally. No amount of opening their number with a showy magic trick could conjure a decent dancer out of him. No transformational geek-to-god rabbit out of hat moments for him in future shows I fear, unless he’s wearing them.

So looking forward to tonight. Got my eye out for Ann W and Jimi Mistry, for rather different reasons.

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Strictly: new series high-kicks off

Well this is going to be fun. Viewers of every age, gender and sexual orientation should have something or someone to keep them entertained. The dancing celebs only got paired off last night, but I can tell already it’s going to be an amusing series.

What’s good so far?

  • Opinionated Tory Catholic Ann ‘I’m not actually holding a whip right now but I’ve got one in my bag if you don’t behave’ Widdicombe, who said of herself ‘I’m the pantomime act’. Clearly not planning to wear high heels, but sporting an excellent flicky new haircut. Seeing her paired off with Anton du Beke was priceless. That’ll teach him for Hole in the Wall and thoughtless racism
  • For the enjoyment of sports lovers – Peter bloody Shilton. And Gavin Henson, looking exactly like a Chippendale made into a Ken doll and wondering out loud if it’s all going to be ‘too arousing’
  • Paul Daniels partnered with the gorgeous Ola with (I’m guessing) the somewhat long suffering Debbie McGee watching
  • I’m not sure what to make of Pamela Stephenson deciding to be on it, but she’s gorgeous and since her lovely hubby Billy Connolly is watching, it’s double royalty as far as I’m concerned 
  • Seeing the woman with the most adored bottom of the 1970s, The Good Life’s Barbara, Felicity Kendal looking minxy as hell
  • Patsy Kensit!
  • The stupendous Craig Revel Horwood already sharpening his claws and getting his tongue ready to drip acid
  • Some rather hot new dancers have joined the mix, including one from High School Musical who is partnering Corrie’s Tina O’Brien

And we haven’t even mentioned Goldie, Michelle Williams and Matt Baker. The only downside so far, why isn’t the ever adorable Ian Waite partnering anyone this year?

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