Let’s watch Strictly pair face the music
LOVE the hypocrisy surrounding Strictly this week. As we know, yet another dance couple has appeared on the show and transgressed the relationship boundaries. Two more contestants – comedian Seann Walsh and pro dancer Katya Jones – have found themselves cha-cha-ing with their dance partner out of hours.
And the judges of the nation’s morality have thrown great bolts of lightning at their heads.
Dancer Anton Du Beke, for example, has maintained he is “disappointed on so many levels” by the couple’s inability to untangle tongues outside a London bar.
Du Beke, whose angel wings could clearly be detected beneath his heavenly white gown, then went on to offer the spiritual advice that really should be practised by every religious leader in the land. “If that is something that happens when you drink, then ‘stop’.”
Wow. There’s a revolutionary thought to all drinkers when out with someone you quite fancy and confronted by friskiness: put down your glass immediately and go home and watch re-runs of Bargain Hunt. Try wearing one of that show’s blue or red one-size-fits-all fleeces and see if you still feel a bit of a buzz. Or look at photos of Jacob Rees-mogg or Ian Blackford until your urges go away.
Piers Morgan, too, got in on the act of condemnation, “slamming” the kissing couple, one married (Jones) and the other in a relationship. (Or at least he was until the smooch pics appeared in the papers.)
But the critics of the late-night kissers, who’d spent several hours in a London pub talking no doubt about the maintaining their body arches, the perfect feet position, etc – before indulging in face sooking – seem to be ignoring a couple of points: Strictly is all about sex. For the most part, the series places attractive people together who are then taught to dance provocatively while wearing outfits that command their partner to wonder how quickly they can be removed.
The success of the show is very much predicated upon the chance of what happened on Wednesday night in Central London.
The show’s producers know that when dancers spend dozen of hours in the rehearsal studios together, holding, clutching, sweating, breathing heavily – all to the heady beat of sensual music – they achieve a level of intimacy most married best not to seem interested in each other, which of course defeats the object of the programme.
It seems they will perform the Charleston. The Argentine tango, as we know, helps contrive tingles in areas associated with carnality. The salsa is the sexiest thing you can do that doesn’t lead to producing children. The Charleston, however, is like spending the night reading from the Old Testament. In Ancient Hebrew.
But let’s not blame the comedian and the pro dancer, even if Walsh did add an extra “n” to his first name (inspired by some American actor). Television, as we know, is increasingly dependent upon relationship crises; shows such as Love Island, and Big Brother build up possibility, with the hope chaos – and ratings – will result. Russia is more moral.
The losers, however, are the partners of those who take part in the show who have to watch their relationship crash and burn, alongside eight million other people.
So let’s not kid ourselves we’ll take delight in watching this week’s show play out, knowing it has nothing to do with dance. It will be about Jones trying to make her marriage work with her dancer husband, and Walsh realising his popularity on the comedy circuit will be sorely tested.
Let’s enjoy watching them channel their inner Irving Berlin and say “Let’s face the music – and dance.”