This year we found out the cure for a Blackpool Hangover. It’s a healthy dose of LSD delivered directly to whoever’s doing the choreography. Danny does a tribal themed samba, flailing about wildly with his top pulled all the way open and Oti dressed as the chief henchvillainess in an Indiana Jones movie. Ore does a Big Business themed paso doble (?) complete with lots of climbing around over and under what looks very much like an air hockey table. Ed does a tango in which he’s a male model and Benny Hill and Divine all combined into one slouching shrugging hunching pouting mess of a man. Cloudia does an Argentine Tango set on a rainy rooftop, performed to a Justim Timberlake cover where it sounds very much like the orchestra are being murdered one by one, where her feet don’t touch the floor I think at all. Kevin turns the schmaltz hose on full force as Louise does her nicest routine yet, so nice that it almost comes across as self-parody. Finally Rinder performs a rumba themed around the idea that Oksana is his beloved ballet teacher and also the returning spirit of his old law tutor who Claudia addresses “as Wendy” on Claud 9 and then Rindy starts yelling her to CALL HER MISS, like Mrs Danvers fresh about to shove her out of the window for disrespecting her Mandalay Mistress.
In short, it’s an ODD evening. Fortunately sanity (or, let’s be honest “predictability”) is restored with the old reliable tonic of the “…athon” to cause pointless drama. In this case, it’s a chachathon, and the drama comes from Louise winning despite possibly deserving to have finished about 3rd. Maybe. As always with a chachathon it’s hard to tell what’s really happening. Other than pot stirring.