No matter how lacklustre an episode is I usually try to avoid sounding like one of those bloggers who just criticise everything, shredding every single aspect of the night, and wailing that THE SHOW IS OVER as the ratings remain rock solid. But GOOD GRIEF, as Blackpool Hangovers go, this one was a full sunrise to sunset spree of vomiting into the toilet, hoping to die, and just crying, crying, always crying and wishing you could just eat some bacon and make it go away. The sole bright spot was Brenda throwing the sort of tantrum that’s been brewing just under the surface since Week 3, as he snots at the judges for NOT APPRECIATING HIS GENIUS and being obsessed with filth. Well Brenda’s got news for you judges, HE always tells a story with his dances, HE ALONE gets what lies at the core of each discipline, and HE’S NOT GOING TO GIVE YOU A SMUTTY RUMBA YOU FILTHY DEGENERATES. (Sophie to be honest looked bashful enough about what she was given to do without it being “sexy”, including at least three patented Chelsee Healey mid-dance fits of the giggles).
Actually, to be honest, Abbey’s dance is ok as well, as she battles bravely against Aljaz’s obsession with Florence And The Machine. (Feel free to object at this point to the fact that she is wearing a blue dress for a paso doble, as apparently this is a bad thing now, I don’t know, I was never a fashion gay : paso and blue, no marks for you). The judges on the other hand tell her that they’re bored of her now, because apparently tonight is the night that they’ve decided that THINGS ARE GETTING SERIOUS and they need to be PICKIER THAN THEY’VE EVER BEEN BEFORE. Some people even get 7S (heavens). Needless to say, Bruno still gets his 10 paddle out, because it might literally rupture something internal for him not to, medically speaking, for a really truly desperately tragically disappointing Natalie tango that is lacking in fire, drama, or even decent hair and danced to RIHANNA. DANCE-MUSIC RIHANNA I’m trying very hard not to be over Natalie, but what does she even have left? I was waiting ALL SERIES for her to a tango and then this? Let’s all pray for her paso doble.
The rest? Oy. Susanna’s face is OUT OF CONTROL in her cha cha, but she doesn’t have the over-the-top theming or elaborate costuming or SHAKIRANESS or nunga-nunga shaking of her samba to cover it up, so it’s all a bit awkward. Then Craig calls her “mumsy” and he probably doesn’t mean in the Crystal Maze way. Ashley manages to do an…alright waltz, but let’s not claim a half-decent waltz 9 weeks in is much to write home about. Ola tries to enliven things by choreographing in some KEY CHANGE PIVOTS but it’s still all a bit “placeholder”. Then Len tries to claim that waltz is a REALLY HARD DANCE and there is literally nothing left that isn’t is there? For the rest of the men’s ballroom division, Patrick’s Viennese Waltz is a return to the bad old days of his foxtrot, and speaking of “bad old days of the foxtrot”, Mark does one with a vague breakfast theme to some Buble twaddle which is clearly beyond him, technically and which he looks a little bit terrified of. He more or less asks to be voted off afterwards, thank you very much. Iveta of course IS NOT HAVING IT. You’ll have to prise her fingernails off the studio doors. Or distract her with some grapes.
This just leaves Ben to do Charleston, for which he gets help from a mime artist, and dances dressed as a strongman, to 90s R & B. As you do. It’s the usual – small easy steps, Kristina in her pants, Ben hurling her around as high and hard as he can. It strands him at the bottom of the leaderboard for the first time although…I’d imagine there’s still life in him yet.
Oh yeah, there are at least two occasions where Bruce just grinds to a halt and makes noises like Daffy Duck and Tess does absolutely nothing to rescue him. Vintage. We are at least tantalised with the prospect of MUSICALS Week next week. That’s got to be good right? RIGHT.