Strictlywatch 2009: week 9

I'm going to have to watch what I say very carefully this week, as last week's mention that I wanted Brucie to die, I mean retire, seems to have had a disastrous impact on his health. Sorry, Bruce. Can't you just move to a remote Caribbean island somewhere? Anyway, it was interesting to see how the show coped without him. Tess taking the front-of-house role proved, despite my loathing of the Forsythe, that you really do need someone with a sense of humour in charge - she has the comic timing of a clock that's been trampled by grumpy elephants - whereas Claudia was genius in the backstage role. I was exceedingly excited to see Ronnie Corbett, the only man alive who is smaller than his own eyebrows, taking a "presenting" role, but he was wasted on a mere opening link and a couple of jokes from the sidelines. My new evil plan is Ronnie and Claudia presenting, and Tess can go and get a lucrative contract somewhere I never need to see her again. Like America, or ITV.

Everything else was a bit of a shambles too. Poor Jade busted her knee in dress rehearsal and couldn't dance, which was selfishly awful because I was dying to see her tango, and even worse than that it could have implications for her Olympic training, and it was a horrible start to the show to see her sitting in her apparently quite lovely dress (well it does happen) too upset to speak. And Laila buggered her ankle, danced anyway, and had to be carried off halfway through in tears. And then - AND THEN - my beloved Phil and Katya got knocked out. (Also, I didn't like the different music they used when the dancers came down the stairs at the start of the show, and I have been wondering where I can put this into the paragraph of Strictly disaster without looking totally shallow, but there is nowhere, and I am totally shallow, but please can we have the old music back?) Basically, this was the Strictly Come Dancing of DOOM.

For what it's worth, though, to the copples.

Phil and Katya, American Smooth. As soon as I saw they were first I knew they were in trouble. Unusually for Strictly, there is nobody I hate left in the show, and I'm guessing most people feel the same way, so dance order is key. Dancing first is a bit of a disaster, because by the end nobody can remember what the hell it was that you did, even if it was a lovely American Smooth and if I just let my eyes go blurry a bit it could be me whirling round in the arms of Phil Tufnell, if by blurry I mean "colour blind" as Katya INSISTS on being blonde, but I love Phil doing ballroom, and, SOB, now there will be no Phil. I really need to start watching Strictly on Saturday nights so I can actually vote.

Ricky Whittle and Natalie, Jive. Funny how now that I know Ricky and Natalie are boffing I don't like it any more. It's the old will-they-won't-they thing, it all goes horribly wrong when they actually do. Like Moonlighting, and Northern Exposure, and that boyfriend I had a few years back, no need to go into details. Anyway. I really liked this jive which went at the speed of light, and I tend to be very disappointed by jives, which is Jill Halfpenny's fault for showing how good they can be, in the same way that Mark Ramprakash has raised the bar impossibly high for salsas. Another positive was that Natalie danced it in great big pants. I am a big fan of jive outfits consisting of great big pants. It's like the dancer is trying to figure out if the support knickers she's got on in the changing rooms at M&S are going to be stretchy enough to allow the full range of movement without causing gangrene.

Ricky Groves and Erin, Viennese Waltz. We all know how I feel about the Viennese Waltz. It is enough to say that the most interesting thing about this one is that Ricky had his glasses on. This was the other dance in the dance off and I'd have sent them home myself, but then again, I do not go to bed at night imagining myself being held in the sweet soft arms of Ricky Groves, while being dressed as Erin Boag.

Chris and Ola, Paso Doble. Utterly ludicrous in every way. I thought Chris was going to strangle himself with his cape, or, failing that, choke on his own face. But Chris and Ola have won the hearts and minds battle and may well make the final. It's like watching Sylvanian Families dance, you can't resist. Visual aid for Sylvanian Families:


Now imagine those rabbits doing the Paso Doble. Alesha gave them a 9, which was beyond the call of sanity.

Laila and Anton, rumba. The rumba, as you know by now, gives me a full body cringe which is like a Mexican Wave starting at my toes all the way up to the roots of my hair, but somewhere around my bellybutton Laila burst into tears and was carried off. Maybe it was her ankle, maybe it was having to pretend to want to shag Anton. Who can say? But up til that point it was looking pretty good. Craig's 3 was a masterclass in humbuggery.

Natalie and Vincent, foxtrot. This is the "I can't remember it" dance of the week. There is always one. It's probably when I hit a blood sugar low or something. I do remember Natalie pretending to be a tortoise in the VT though. Terrifyingly convincing.

Ali and Brian, Cha Cha Cha. To the weirdest music you can imagine. Some kind of electro thing. Really not the wisest style of music to give to Dave Arch, his Fabulous Singers and his Wonderful Orchestra, who tend to be in their comfort zone singing Frank Sinatra. And Ali was wearing hair extensions. And the Cha Cha Cha is another potentially very stupid dance. And I am sick of this boffing storyline too. Astonishingly, with all these handicaps - arguably a harder ask than dancing on Jade's busted knee - this was very good.

Of the entertainment while awaiting the Dreaded Dance Off, I would like to draw particular attention to the special guest singers. Last week, I complained of Strictly's penchant for inviting people on who are past retirement age - the BeeGees, Rod Stewart, Brucie himself, and I forgot, but was reminded in the comments, of Andy Williams (82). This week Strictly made a special effort, by booking some actual young men to sing, which made a nice change. Of course, it was the cast of the Jersey Boys, pretending to be Frankie Valli (75) and the Four Seasons, but it was a zimmerframed step in the right direction.

Like Samuel Beckett, who I am sure would have loved Strictly, I can't go on, because after that all roads lead inexorably to the departure of Phil and Katya. But if you want to watch the whole thing, including that sad, sad ending, you can catch it, as usual, over here.