It was an interesting week for many reasons, not least of which was that Tess had finally cracked and murdered her stylist. We knew this because she wore a rather lovely dress and her hair looked nice. No sign of any plain clothes policemen in the audience, but then there wouldn’t be, would there? No. An arrest however is imminent. Take my word for it.
Georgia May Foote danced a decent salsa. “That woz so good arm gonna change your name to Georgia May HIP!” shrieked Len, keen to get his famed word play into gear early in the proceedings. Lovely Carol Kirkwood danced the Viennese Waltz, which requires lots of spins. Pasha prepared for this by taking Carol on lots of spinning rides at a theme park. I’d have gone for extra training myself, but Strictly Law is that we must endure terrible VTs before every dance. Carol looked terrified and her spare arm seemed to belong to someone else – possibly a farm worker wielding a shovel.
Anita and Gleb danced the Tango to Temper Trap’s ‘Sweet Disposition’ which was a rubbish choice of music because all the drama – and Anita was good – went for nothing, and the make-up team had given her Ming The Merciless of Mongo eyebrows, but the judges loved it so clearly I know nothing and I don’t know why I’m bothering to write this.
Peter Andre danced the rumba to Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, which is, I believe, 2015’s ultimate first wedding dance for everyone without an imagination. It was, to my mind, utterly sexless, but then I think Pete is the human equivalent of a Shirley Temple cocktail; looks great, but no chance of getting drunk on it, so what’s the point? Next up strode angry Kirsty Gallacher, a woman who believes herself to be a much better dancer than she is and as a result is furious every week when she doesn’t get better marks. She wore a dress like a piece of satsuma peel dipped in glitter and took half an hour to get down the stairs, but gave a pretty decent account of herself once on the dance floor proper. “Vat is wivvart dart your best dance!” declared Len, and Kirsty agreed loudly if not entirely modestly. We’ve all been at school with someone like Kirsty, haven’t we, children?
Ainsley and Natalie danced the Jive to ‘Shake Rattle and Roll’ by Bill Haley and the Comets because pots and pans (geddit?). It was as camp as Christmas, he was as flat-footed as a camel and the judges hated it, but I thought it enormous fun so shut up Craig.
Jamelia and Tristan danced the Foxtrot to Celine Dion’s ‘Because You Loved Me’, a song so terrible it makes me want to use a rusty spoon to remove my eyeball and feed it to a dog. The routine began with a load of tedious shizz about horses and carriages in Central Park, and I didn’t see anymore of her dance because I was battling with a recalcitrant wine bottle cork, but the judges told her she was crap (illegal lifts, wrong footwork blah blah) so do with that information what you will.
Next up, Anton and Katie danced the salsa. Anton was dressed as a 1970s’ sales rep in a beige suit and Hawaiian shirt, and declared the routine would be “hot and spicy”. Latin is not Katie’s, or Anton’s for that matter, strong suit, so they were pretty dreadful, which was a shame as Katie is probably as competitive as Kirsty but at least has the grace to hide it.
Jezza Vine danced the waltz; horrible gapping, lifeless topline and all the lyricism and panache of Judy Murray, but he’s game and takes his criticism well, so I like him. Craig awarded him three points, Len six. Len is an idiot.
Helen “Call The Midwife” George was next. Helen is my little niece Lauren’s favourite, perhaps because they are both blonde, tiny and sweet, so for her sake I hoped for good things from Helen’s Quickstep. Fortunately she was fabulous; so fabulous in fact that Craig awarded her nine points and Helen made a noise that sounded like a squirrel trapped in kettle.
Ooh, Jay and Aliona dancing the Paso. They were brilliant. “Great lines, great control, great shaping, great dance,” declared Craig. “The best male arms ever,” added Darcy, weirdly. Len blathered on about nothing in particular like the wizened old fart he is, Bruno waffled about Jay getting his bum (Jay’s, not Bruno’s) in the wrong place and said “bollocks” which forced Tess to apologise for his language.
The woman from EastEnders danced a jive to “One Way Or Another” which is a Blondie, not One Direction, song, so shut up toddlers. It was alright and a bit of a meh note on which to finish the programme but I suppose everyone must get their turn. The judges however were fulsome in their praise. “Ar know the clocks gar back tonight, but ard like the clocks to go back RAHT NOW so ar can see it agin!” yelped Len.
The sensational madness that is Strictly Halloween is next week. Remember Pasha as Shrek, complete with green face and ears? It’s the BEST.