There presides over this evening the dread entity known as TONY GAGA, a joining of the husk of Tony Bennett and the husk of Lady Gaga dressed as Patti Lupone dressed as Cher. Singing JAZZ. They pull in Natalie and Trent to dance for them, presumably because they’re a bit short-sighted in their old age and think he’s Ian. (Instead the real Ian is influenced by TONY GAGA’S commitment to being BORN THIS WAY, to do a segment promoting It Takes Two where he and Robin act as queenily to one another as is humanly possible). This dread Dr Who villain in waiting also pollutes the opening pro routine, which is very ARTPOP, in that someone’s squiggled on all the pros faces in sparkly biro and nobody really knows what’s going on GAGA.
Still, the dread powers of TONY GAGA have some upside. Unless I missed it their mature issue-led ARTJAZZPOP drove those bloody shots of cutesy dancing kids off of Len’s Glans for a start. And their agenda of ALL THE COLOURS SEXUALITIES AND BUILDS AND AGES OF LITTLE SWINGING MONSTERS BEING EQUAL BEFORE THE EYES OF GOD AND TONY GAGA save Alison and Judy and Scott and Simon and Sunetra from the dance-off and leave two of the straight white men there instead – Tim and Mark. Everyone gasps and clutches their chests over this, but after Simon’s not-really-that-shocking Shock Bottom 2 appearance it feels a bit like Outrage Fatigue might be setting in already. By the time Pixie falls there from 3rd on the leaderboard in Hallowe’en Week they’ll have nothing left.
Tim goes home, because he’s old, even though Mark was far worse in the dance-off and doesn’t look like he’s going to capitalise on any potential he might have ever, and has one of the most touching Strictly end-offs ever. From his sweet speech to Natalie singing along noisily to Fleetwood Mac to us just fading out on him dancing on his own, bizarrely and twitchily, in the centre of a circle of all the others cheering and applauding him. It’s just warming is all. ALL HAIL TONY GAGA.