Strictlywatch 2009: week 11

Oh Strictly, Strictly, what have you done to me? I liked the Rock'n'Rolls - basically like the Jive, but fun; and the Charlestons were brilliantly bonkers; but thanks to this week's special guests, now what I want, what I REALLY REALLY want, is to see the Strictly Come Dancers doing Riverdance. Imagine it... And now! Would David Tennant and his partner Flavia Caccace please take to the floor, dancing Riverdance, to the sounds of Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet! You know I'm right.

I did enjoy this week. The two new dances provided a much-needed burst of novelty, and my most yawn-inducing dance, the Viennese Waltz, was much perked up by making everyone do it at the same time, with excellent rehearsal footage of them all elbowing each other in the face. I'm also hoping this marks the disappearance of the Viennese Waltz from the final, in which it is always the most tedious element.

All the Charlestons were nuts, and I am overlooking any twinges of irritating because nuts is better than dull. Chris's dancing faces were perhaps too much even for me, but he and Ola made up for it by that weird rolling on the floor move that they did at the end; meanwhile both Laila (whingey) and Ali (wet) were able to display a sense of fun for a change.

Natalie and Vincent were massively short-changed by being the only Rock'n'Rolling couple aside from Ricky & Natalie, and were always going to look seriously rubbish in comparison, given that Vincent can hardly lift Natalie C, whereas Ricky can toss his Natalie with one hand. Ahem. Even so, if I'd been watching in real time, they'd have got my vote, simply because their training VT of Vincent refusing to do a roly-poly had me in tears of laughter. Then when they got knocked out I was in tears of tears, especially when Vincent cried. They do seem to have had a really beautiful, proper friendship, which is always my favourite thing about Strictly, far more than the romances. Friendship in narrative is seriously underrated. Natalie and Vincent were one of my all-time favourite Strictly Couples, and judging by the ovation at the end, I am not alone.

However, despite the appearance of Darcey Bussell and the semi-final where we finally get to see my favourite dance (Argentine Tango) notwithstanding, it's shaping up to be a very boring end of season for Strictly. Ricky Whittle hasn't done his popularity much good by getting himself arrested (though file under the Anton Racism school of IT NEVER HAPPENED as far as the BBC are concerned) and Laila surely can't be a real contender, so Ali and Pepe le Piu must be a shoe-in for the title - with perhaps a shock result of the Sylvanian Family Dancers in second place, as they will probably gather up all of Natalie and Vincent's votes.

So maybe it's Vote Team Cola! Never thought I'd say that. What can I tell you; I'm still not well.

See it all here.

Sebastian Barry: The Secret Scripture

As mentioned a while back, I'm not too well at the moment, and one of the symptoms is being extraordinarily tired much of the time, so I am spending several hours a day in bed reading.

Yes, you're right. It could be a lot worse.

First up for discussion is Sebastian Barry's 'The Secret Scripture'. This is the second Sebastian Barry book I've read, the first being the heartrendingly brilliant 'A Long, Long Way', his account of a young Irish soldier in the First World War. That one was on the Booker shortlist in 2005, and lost to John Banville's 'The Sea', and I can't say whether that was fair as I have not read the latter, but I find it hard to believe it could be much better than 'A Long, Long Way' which is the best book by far I've ever read about WW1, and I have read many of the usual suspects (Pat Barker trilogy, 'Birdsong' etc.)

So I was very excited about reading 'The Secret Scripture', also Booker shortlisted, this time in 2008. This one is about a 100-year-old Irish woman, Roseanne, who has been in a lunatic asylum since the 1950s, and the doctor who is trying to determine her mental state to see if she is fit for release when said asylum is scheduled for demolition. The book moves between the diaries of both characters, that of Roseanne detailing her upbringing in early 20th century Ireland and the events that led to her incarceration, and that of the Doctor describing his attempts to uncover the truth about her, and his sadness at the recent loss of his wife.

So far so good, and it is wonderfully written and evocative, if not quite to the heights of 'A Long, Long Way'. But I had a dim memory of one of the Booker judges having broken ranks and saying that the reason that 'The Secret Scriptures' had missed out on the Booker win (to Arvind Adiga's 'The White Tiger') was that it had an incredibly bad ending. Of course I was intrigued to see if that would turn out to be the case.

Well, let me tell you. 'The Secret Scripture' has the most stupid, ridiculous, laughable, demented, throw-the-book-out-of-the-window endings I have ever come across. It is awful. It is insane. You wonder what the hell possessed Sebastian Barry, and what makes it worse is I don't think that this was a help-what-do-I-do-to-finish-this, I-know, it-was-all-a-dream ending, I think this ending was planned right from the very start. And it is also completely unnecessary. You could have had exactly the same book with a vastly different ending, barely changing anything else about it, and it would have been a fantastic book about which I would not have had a word of criticism. How did this get past his agent and his editor? How?

I don't know whether to recommend that you read it but skip the last 50 pages, read it and relish in the horror of the terrible ending, or just don't read it at all. I'm inclined to point you in the direction of 'A Long, Long Way' instead, as well as Maggie O'Farrell's similarly-themed 'The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox'.

Ironically enough, 'A Long, Long Way' has an exceptional ending, indeed one of my favourite endings of an book, that had me sobbing my little heart out.

Sebastian Barry: see me after class.

More book reviews to come.

Strictlywatch 2009: Brucie Bonus

I have come up with a new, brilliant, theory, though I say so myself, and I didn't even need an apple to fall on my head: the BBC don't know when to say "enough". They kept adding episodes of Eastenders until there were so many that keeping up with it was a full-time job - so I quit. And now they've added so many couples to Strictly that it now goes on for about half the year so that even the [Karen] Hardiest of us die of boredom before it's done. BBC! Less Strictly is more! I speak as Strictly's biggest* fan when I say: FEWER COUPLES NEXT YEAR.

Here is the song I think might be going around the BBC's head at all times when it comes to Strictly. Listen to the lyrics, look at the outfit, look at the hair. BELIEVE. And then imagine me doing the Cha Cha Cha to it once I have written a book that makes me famous enough / married and divorced a Rolling Stone:



*I may not actually be Strictly's biggest fan, but I think I might be the one wearing the nicest burgundy top today.

Strictlywatch 2009: week 10

Is it midseason fatigue or has Strictly got suddenly, fatally dull?

This is my third attempt at a Strictlywatch for this week. But what is there to say? Bruce was back to his smug, homophobic ways (telling Craig not to call men "darling") - GET RID GET RID GET RID - Tess was back in the backroom being boring (bring back Claudia), Ali and Brian's foxtrot was nice, so was Laila and Anton's waltz. Then again, I had to sit at my keyboard for several seconds before I remembered Laila's NAME. That can't be good. Ricky and Natalie's American Smooth was slow and sweet and then had an incredibly stupid, attention-seeking lift (oh it's so romantic, oh it's so romantic, oh I can LIFT YOU ABOVE MY HEAD - doesn't resonate with any dates I've ever been on, but I am quite sheltered). Alesha - cabin fever setting in? - gave it a ten. My theory? Alesha madly fancies Ricky, and he has rejected her, probably the week of the notorious backflip, so she has to cover it up by constantly banging on about how amazing the chemistry between him and Natalie is, and insanely over-marking them, to show she HAS NO BITTERNESS. Chris and Ola's Viennese Waltz was fine. They went to a ballet school in the VT just to emphasise how Sylvanian Family they really are. Natalie and Vincent's samba was pretty grim, but then sambas are, and I have a desperate need for Natalie to stay in the competition, now that the personality has left with Phil and the only potential challenge to Ali / Ricky has been popped out with Jade's knee. And Ricky and Erin went out on a tango that was dreadful on the first attempt, when Ricky just sort of walked around a bit, and merely not very good on the dance-off attempt, when Ricky apparently danced it. All I can say is thank the lord they are doing two new dances next week (rock-n-roll / charleston) or I might just drift off completely.

I mean, I know I should have more to say about this but really. Yawns a-go-go.

For our special guest age watchers, I can report that this week we had Dame Shirley Bassey, a wee slip of a lass at 71.

Sorry. I know this is lacklustre. Did I miss something? Was it any good?

Doctor Who: The Waters of Mars / Children in Need

THERE WILL BE SPOILERS...

I know it went out days ago, but it feels unnatural to let an episode of Doctor Who go by without comment. (I have visions of myself standing outside the gates of heaven with St Peter saying "I read your blog, you know - what were you DOING between November 15th and 20th 2009?") Also, I can wax lyrical for page after page on episodes of Doctor Who I didn't like (number one cause of hatemail on this blog, stats fans) so it seems unfair to remain silent on one that I absolutely bloody LOVED.

Space station in peril is one of my favourite Who modes anyway, and bleak Who is my second favourite variety after, well, anything in which David Tennant cracks lots of jokes, gets wet, wears his glasses, and licks something. And maybe does a little dance. But anyhow, this was EPIC bleak. I should have guessed in advance, given the casting of Lindsay Duncan as "companion" (not really so much companion as equal, or, arguably, superior by the end) - she is a woman whose armpits probably excrete gravitas instead of sweat.

Anyway, essentially, what we have is the Doctor rocking up to Mars, finding a space base there, realising that it is going to be destroyed that very day killing everyone inside, and in order to protect the integrity of time he MUST NOT FOR ANY REASON SAVE THEM, and he spends almost the entire episode not saving them, feeling awful, but reluctantly bonding with them despite knowing they will all be dead within hours, walking away as they are slowly taken over by parasitic monsters, before finally realising that he can't bring himself to desert them, rescuing the last remaining survivors, but sacrificing his sanity in the process, his actions leading directly to the suicide of the head of the base, and ending the episode abandoned and on his knees, overwhelmed with the horror of his hubris and realising the inevitability of his own impending death.

Just read that over again, only this time I want you to imagine that it was a family show largely aimed at children, broadcast around teatime in the run-up to Christmas.

That's right. BLOODY BRILLIANT.

You know what would have made that even better for me? If just before Lindsay Duncan went into her house to kill herself, she had casually turned around on her doorstep and shot the Doctor first, so that he had died a banal death all alone in the snow, instead of whatever OTT whistles-and-bells everything-but-the-kitchen-sink guest-starring-EVERYONE-who-has-ever-been-in-Who-EVER Messianic exit is lined up for the Christmas Special. Man, that would have been BLEAK. But that's just my preference.

(Of course, if that HAD happened, we wouldn't have had DT's Doc on Children in Need tonight, wearing the *exact* same hat I wear when I'm working outdoors on sunny days (I wonder if his also has a label inside that says "this is a fancy dress accessory item for adults, it is not a toy"), and sunglasses and a lei, on a snow-covered planet, making jokes about having boffed Queen Elizabeth the First, so I can see the perks.)

Oh David. It's getting very close to the end.

Siiiiiiiiiigh.

If it has to be a crap ending, can we at least have Rose and Donna duetting I Know Him So Well over his mutating body?



Rose is Elaine and Donna is Barbara. *Obviously*.

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.

Reviewus Interruptus

Just switched on my PVR to discover that it hasn't recorded any of the programmes that I have set over the last several weeks. No Strictly over the weekend, no Doctor Who, NO DAVID TENNANT, no True Blood, no Peep Show, and none of the entire series of The Thick Of It that I was looking forward to savouring in one sinful burst. I will be attempting to summon as much as possible via iPlayer so there will be essential reviews (by which I mean Strictlywatch and Who) but I am MOST displeased as I'm sure there will be plenty that's gone from my reach forever.

GRRRRRRRRR.

This is as good a time as any to apologise for the relative silence on the blog, I've been suffering from the recurrence of a debilitating though by no means dangerous condition which has made it hard for me to work, in which I include blog writing, and though it is nothing to worry about it does mean I may be posting a bit less frequently for a while. Maybe you can spend the time watching The Thick Of It, which you have recorded, OVER and OVER again. (Sob).

I am now going to go and watch Saturday's Strictly. Strictlywatch will be appearing as soon as possible.

Strictlywatch 2009: Week 8

And now! Live! Live!! LIVE!!! from BLACKPOOL!!!! It's the Strictly Come Dancing Kicking Out Craig Special!!!!!

OK, so when did the Blackpool episode become all about Craig? Why was I not invited to that meeting? I'm pretty sure I was free. I realise that Craig is FROM BLACKPOOL, in case anybody missed that, but I'm from London, and I'm pretty sure that if (if? what am I saying? when) I am on Strictly, I would get pretty short shrift if I went around saying "The thing is I'm FROM LONDON, I need to stay IN LONDON, I'm the LOCAL GIRL and so you've got to KEEP ME IN THE COMPETITION UNTIL LONDON BY WHICH I MEAN THE ENTIRE COMPETITION BECAUSE IT'S HELD IN LONDON SO I HAVE TO BE HERE FOR THE FINAL, AND I CAN'T LOSE ON HOME TURF BECAUSE I'M THE LOCAL GIRL SO BASICALLY I HAVE TO WIN THE WHOLE OF STRICTLY COME DANCING BECAUSE I AM FROM LONDON" - well, I might try it. But I don't think it'd work.

On the positive side, at least it meant that we all knew that having managed to get Craig as far North as the competition would plausibly allow, we could all jump in the minibus back down the M60 and pretend we didn't notice that he was still in the service station buying mints. Yeah, Craig: you went home and you stayed home. You danced last; you were last on the traditional VT where everyone has to say "I am having the most amazing time and I can't let my partner down"; you were last on the leaderboard (and a bonus, please, whoever did the maths and gave you a Cha Cha Cha this week which was bound to be the worst dance you could possibly do); you were going down. Even you knew it, judging by your surprise when Tess said "And you don't want to be watching from home on the sofa next week, do you Craig?" Craig's mouth said "No, of course not", but his face said "er, Tess, didn't you get the memo? I'm getting knocked out this week. The whole country knows. Flavia's booked a holiday."

Anyway, there were other copples, so let's get reviewing shall we?

1. Ricky and Natalie, tango. I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THEY WERE SHAGGING! WOULD ANYBODY LISTEN TO ME? NO, YOU NEVER DO! WELL MAYBE SOMETIMES YOU DO. BUT THEY ARE TOTALLY SHAGGING, IT WAS ON THE VT AND EVERYTHING AND THE DAILY MAIL SAYS THAT HE'S BROKEN UP WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND, NOT THAT I READ THE DAILY MAIL, BUT I CAN'T HELP WHAT GOOGLE GIVES ME, and that might explain why Ricky looked like he wanted to vomit just before he went on for his tango. Not the Daily Mail, and not because shagging Natalie would make you puke, far from it, but he'd clearly been up all night in a seedy Blackpool B&B with Natalie, doing the horizontal tango, and probably had to stop horizontal tangoing at intervals to take calls from his angry ex-girlfriend, who wants that, not me, well maybe the shagging part, but not the ex bit, and then around four in the morning he remembered that he was first on the dancefloor, and even though Craig was going out this week so everybody else got a bye, it is twice the size of the dancefloor at home, with better lighting and more people in the audience, and he was on first, he had already thought of that but there is was, undeniable, and he had knackered himself with shagging, and this was not a good dance-friendly strategy, and he had about three hours before he had to be in make-up. Oh dear, Ricky. Still, great tango. Not worth making yourself sick over.

2. Natalie and Vincent, quickstep. Kind of mean putting her on after Ricky and Natalie. She bounced around the stage like a hot cocktail sausage in a mouth.

3. Jade and Ian, jive. Another meeting I wasn't at: the one where they gave Jade a jive outfit that looked like a hanky dipped in lime TicTacs and then wrapped around a very small pair of pants. Anyway, for all that we've been hearing all week about Jade's jive being excellent and how amazingly she dances it FOR A TALL PERSON (drink!) it was... good. But nothing special.

4. Ali and Brian, Viennese Waltz. I knew immediately that this was going to get four 10s. Not because it was all that wonderful, but because I always find waltzes and Viennese waltzes tedious beyond belief, and the more tedious I find them, the higher they score, and this was a total snore-fest. 40 out of 40!

5. Ricky and Erin, salsa. I cannot recall a thing about this and had to scrutinise the whole of the internet very closely before I remembered that it was even a salsa. Not a good sign. They went into the dance off but can't have been too worried because it was getting rid of Craig week. And Craig went. In Tess's room after the dance, Ricky claimed that "I put the E in entertainment but I don't take the P out of professional", proving that he really should not be allowed to write his own scripts.

6. Laila and Anton, Paso Doble. They dance to 'Layla', personally I think that Craig should have danced to Layla, just to confuse everyone on the way out. Anyway. Actually Laila's Paso Doble was very good, but I am no longer liking Laila. She is whingey. Also, every time I see Anton I want to weep, because I know that year in year out I wait for Bruce Forsythe to die, I mean retire, and when he does, they will replace him with ANTON, which is a bit like taking a break from having diarrhea just in order to start puking.

7. Phil and Katya, rumba. This was the dictionary definition of "not his dance" and a triumph for those of us (everybody alive, surely) who think that the rumba is a fucking ridiculous dance. Essentially, Phil did all the moves very nicely, but looked throughout like he was about to piss himself laughing at any moment. Some people may argue that this is not catching the spirit of the dance; others may feel that it is catching the spirit of the dance to perfection. You, as they say, decide. Incidentally, my crush on Phil is extending to Katya, and every time they show training footage of them I spend a lot of time looking wistfully at her practice outfits and wondering if I could conceivably go about my business of being a full-time author whilst wearing a uniform of hotpants, legwarmers and stiletto heels.

8. Chris and Ola, foxtrot. Oh my god. It's good. He can actually dance. Well, this is going to screw everything up. (Stomps off to redraw her Strictly wallchart.)

9. Craig and Flavia, cha cha cha. JUST LEAVE. LEAVE NOW. DON'T EVEN DO THE DANCE. Oh, OK, if you insist. It's horrible, as you might expect, but even I am shocked when Alesha says "I can't believe Zoe's gone and I had to endure *that*". Alesha is very good at nice, but her nasty makes me feel frightened and slightly ill. Just before leaving the dancefloor, Craig does an extra bow, as befits someone who knows they are about to get knocked out, but he has clearly mistaken himself for a John Sergeant style loveable goof type, whereas his dancing is just rather unpleasant.

Do you notice what they did there? They had Craig going on last. Does that tell you, something, Craig? DOES IT?

Then the stuff they have to do to fill the time before the end. I had high hopes for this, seeing as it's BLACKPOOL, BLACKPOOL BABY, and even though I don't know why I am supposed to be excited by BLACKPOOL I have been told to get excited often enough and now I am kind of excited, despite having been to BLACKPOOL and knowing full well there is precious little to get excited about unless you have a thing about chips, drag queens or rain.

So WOO! WOO! LET'S GET IT STARTED! WITH! Oh, a group Viennese Waltz from the pros. Yawn.

Moving swiftly on, the next group dance is a swing dance. YES! That's BETTER! Because it's that day before Remembrence Sunday, the Strictly dancers go to some barracks and dance with soldiers, and I am ready to be bored and sneery but that's because I haven't seen the soldiers yet. As it turns out I have a latent fantasy about going to a barracks with lots of soldiers, where I am wearing a small skimpy outfit with lots of sequins on it, and I dance jive with the soldiers, and then they do things like lift me horizontally across lots of soldiers, and I kind of like it, and they can totally do this again even if it isn't the most appropriate way of marking the death of millions in the Second World War.

The group jive itself is quite fun at first, particularly notable for featuring former champion, the divine Jill "queen of the jive" Halfpenny, who is beautiful and dances as well as the pros in the opening sequence, and I am all happy and enjoying it, and then BRUCE COMES OUT ONTO THE STAGE AND STARTS SINGING AND DANCING.

NO. NO. NO. WHY DOES NOBODY CONSULT ME, EVER? THIS IS AN EPIC NO. The only thing that can be worse than this is a few years down the line when ANTON will be singing and dancing, and the very thought of this puts me in an even WORSE mood. Meanwhile the divine Jill Halfpenny is still on stage and I can't see her because the camera is on Bruce doing some kind of unspeakable soft shoe shuffle. NO.

After Bruce, 81, and hot on the heels of last week's BeeGees (Robin, 60, and Barry, 63) comes Rod Stewart, 64. Another meeting nobody invited me to, clearly. I know I'm being ageist but does Stricty have to be retirement home for people who were mostly famous before I - a woman in my thirties ie actually middle aged - was born? I'm quite intrigued as to whether it was the Strictly producers or Rod himself who decided that his singing absolutely had to be accompanied by his wife and Strictly also-ran, Penny Lancaster Stewart, doing a lengthy and not very good show-dance, demonstrating exactly why it is that we, the Strictly audience, are very nostalgic about Jill Halfpenny and not at all nostalgic about Penny Lancaster Stewart.

And then it's all over. Guess who goes home this week! Guess! Go on, guess! Read back over the blog, there are clues.

Watch it all, or just bits thereof, here.

Firestation Bookswap: November Preview

Over on his brilliant blog, Robert Hudson does a lovely job of publicising next month's Firestation Bookswap, in which he is appearing with Richard Asplin. I think it's going to be a particularly good one this month, if you can make it, which is not to diss the particularly good ones we've had so far, but it's too late for you to make those. Also, audience members have started baking and bringing cakes. Rumour has it there is going to be parkin, there will almost certainly be cupcakes and I am hoping for a repeat of last month's flapjacks. (Those links all take you to the bakers thereof.) That's in addition to cakes from varied family members of Scott's, and I might even get some brownies made myself this time. I aint promising anything. But you never know.

Oh yeah, and books. Bring one, swap one, talk about lots. You know the drill.

Tickets here.

Strictlywatch 2009: Weeks 6 and 7

Oh my god! OH MY GOD! I can't believe I managed to stay spoiler-free! From the comments I thought the big news was the tiff over Ricky and Erin's dance, and something about Jade's eyebrows! ALI AND ZOE! ALI AND ZOE! WT MUTHA-F-ING F???

Although, to be scrupulously honest, at the end of the dances I couldn't even remember what Ali and Brian's dance had been, and her foot bruising appeared to have extended as far as her eye makeup, and I hated Zoe and James's samba, and she was dressed as an ice-dancing cocktail waitress at the Rainforest Cafe, so that may explain it, but still, people: CHRIS. LAILA. CRAIG, FFS. Why can't I make the capital letters bigger on this thing? CRAIG!!!!! WHO IS VOTING FOR THESE PEOPLE?

I can't really bring myself to summarise the rest of it. I can't even remember the rest of it. Jo was terrible in the first one and kept falling over, so her departure was what we in the trade would call THE CORRECT DECISION, and Ricky W's foxtrot in the second was one of the all time great Strictly dances (though seriously, a point off from Craig RH because he doesn't like his toes? Pull yourself together, man), and I am still in love with Phil Tufnell and concur with Katya that he is sexier than Antonio Banderas, and I do wonder if the bearded BeeGee is regretting his decision in the 1970s to sing falsetto because it didn't sound great then and now it sounds like he is being strangled, although not as bad as Dave Arch, his Fabulous Singers and his Wonderful Orchestra mutilating Ever Fallen In Love as if the song had shat on their mother's bed and they were out for revenge, and I was disappointed that the pro-dance stripper dance didn't feature Natalie, though Aliona does a great job of dancing like a really scary stripper, and did I mention I watched Flashdance on DVD in Dorset, a film which makes being a stripper look like really good fun, and we're veering off the point now, but ALI AND ZOE, PEOPLE. ALI AND ZOE. I go away for FIVE MINUTES and look what a mess you make of things! CAN WE GET A BIT OF HEAVY ORCHESTRATION GOING HERE PLEASE?

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