If anything, even more predictable than the reader results…
Don’t worry, I’m not going to announce half the results for one poll at the beginning, then a bit more in the middle, then the proper final result at the end. I have learnt from the show in this respect…
No more showdances please.
I am choosing to take all the snow that fell this morning as an auspicious omen. I like snow.
The evening starts with a boxing themed pro-dance, which appears to have been choreographed mapped to the opening credits to Hong Kong Phooey, with a lot of flailing and chopping and punching and precious little dancing. Natalie, Ola and Erin are all ring-girls. That’s about as excited as I can get.
Round One is Repeated Dances. Matt’s samba is still good, but not as good as it was first time. Kara’s rumba is still good, but not as good as it was first time. Pamela’s Viennese Waltz is still good, but not as good as it was first time (apart from her staring into the middle distance for half an hour at the end, like she was in the last reel of Gone With The Wind. That, if anything, was even better this time around). All four dances get exactly the same score as they got first time. In terms of high drama, this is not the best start.
Round Two is Showdances, which is a bit odd, because normally they’re the showstoppers, but given that they’re all craptacular, I’m glad they didn’t go at the end of the show, because the last thing being done on this show, dance-wise, being Kara dinking a tiny bucket of glitter-confetti over herself, five seconds after the music ended, would have damn near killed me. Her showdance is crappy via over-ambition : too many lifts, too many steps, too frantic, and dangerous to the point that it practically break her arm. Pamela on the other hand underwhelms through lack of ambition. It’s tasteful, restrained, contains elements of many dances she’s done before, and quite frankly is enough to put you in a coma. At least in Rachel’s dull, soulless Showdance she fell on her face and pissed herself laughing at the end. Matt’s combines both errors, with lots of different dance types being thrown in there (including hip-hop (!)) all with what I like to call a “Shit, What Am I Supposed To Be Doing Next?” pause in-between each of them. Oh and he’s in a flat-cap. A glittery flat-cap. (*Miranda face to camera*)
After a brief break for panic-voting, we’re back in the room, where Pamela falls to an honourable bronze medal position. We shall never see her Argentine Tango, for shame.
Round Three is New Dances and a bit of a bust to be honest. Matt comes out the best probably with a decent, if very slightly over-acted paso doble that I am going to struggle to remember…well by the time I write the recap. Still better than Kara’s waltz, where she looks constantly lost, in pain, and awkward, and like her arms are about to dislocate in about five places at once. Still, it gets 10s, because if a waltz done after week 10 doesn’t score at least one 10, the Universe will officially collapse in on itself, taking the glitterball with it.
Round Four is Favourite Dances, where Matt irons out most of the technical faults from his Viennese Waltz, although not the bloody great swing, more’s the pity, and Kara pushes through the pain to nail her American Smooth to the wall, in what would actually be the perfect end dancing wise, if it wasn’t followed necessarily by Len kicking off again and giving it a 7. Which is a less uplifting end, but there we are.
All the eliminated dancers come back, and jig around to Paloma Faith in one of the more enjoyable group-dances that I remember in the show’s history. Michelle notably dances far better than she ever did on the show. Gav downs a pint, Jimi has a cocktail, there’s faff with newspapers, it’s all in good fun, but…it’s no Time Warp. I would have even let Paloma Faith sing in if it had been the Time Warp. Can you imagine? Amazing. There’s also an extended VT in which every single person in the nation is made to say just how amazing Widdy was (also the three actual finalists. A bit. In the middle of the Widdy love).
Once all this is done, and Kara is suitably dosed up on horse-tranquilisers and Michelle-glitter, we come to our winner. And it is…
Kara & Artem! Hooray! My “Two Series On-Two Series Off” pattern in terms of getting the winner I want continues. Matt is supremely gracious in defeat, and Artem cries like a great big girl. A very good ending, to a very good series I’d say. Jolly well done all round.
At least Snowdon didn’t act like she could tap-dance…
Remember that very first Results Show this series? Choppily edited, mediocre pro-dances, unsatisfying elimination, little bit of a Take That overdose. The disappointment, albeit an inevitable one? And then we got used to the Results Show, kind of, or at least stopped minding its gym-crack nature, if only for the wonders of Backstage Bitching (with nibbles) and Claudia?
Well it’s going out with a bang people! A crappy crappy bang. For a start Bruce is here. Which can only mean one thing. Yes, it’s time for Bruce to SING. Not with Alesha. Not even with Anton. Not even with anyone, as he abandons the idea of singing entirely, in favour of just standing there leching at Ola in a Goldilocks costume with a member of the band. Davarch is never letting him out on his own again I’ll bet. The only other guest spot is Take That, some more, again, on every show in the history of television from now until the end of the Universe. At least they’re not singing that bloody Floody song again. Don’t say they wouldn’t do it twice – they did on X Factor.
We also witness the final death of the dance troupe, as they wheeze around in a terminal paso doble, for which Ian hasn’t even bothered to turn up, leaving one girl permanently stood on the side looking on. Maybe think this crap through a little better next year eh producers?
Through to the final? Dr Hamela, Kara Toytown, and Matt The Gymnast, meaning our first final since Mark vs Matt where nobody’s hit Bottom Two even once throughout the competition. THE TENSION. Gavin & Katya finish their Retirement Lap with grace, and Tess still trying to work out if he’s being ironic or not (oh Tess…), and Scott gets to go home and put his feet up. Lord knows he needs to.