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.
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.”
Posted by Jo the Hat