How long will it be
before the BBC puts Strictly Come Dancing out of its misery?
On Saturday night,
the show, in its infinite lack of wisdom, decided to add a fifth judge. And who
better to pick than that well-known master of the ballroom, Donny Osmond.
That’s right. Donny Osmond. One time teen pop star, clean
cut, nice enough bloke, but totally the wrong choice to join an already
overcrowded panel of judges. He may have won the US equivalent, Dancing with
the Stars, but his comments and absurd marks added nothing to a show that
increasingly has less to do with dancing and more to do with making headlines.
With every series, the “dancing”
(and I use the word very loosely) increasingly resembles a gymnastics
competition. The amateurs often barely move a muscle, while the professionals
gyrate around them, doing all the fancy stuff in order to hide the flaws and,
in many cases, incompetency.
Craig Revel Horwood sits there
looking angry throughout – and even bored, now - playing up the pantomime dame
act on which he has built his persona; but what was once entertaining has
become cringe-worthy. Darcey Bussell plays it nice, and Len Goodman is the know
all. Bruno Tolioli is, quite simply, outstanding, as he is on the US show, too:
a man who totally understands dance and show business, and whose energy is the
one thing that keeps the whole thing from falling flat on its backside. It can
only be a matter of time before he is given his own show – he certainly
deserves it.
When Bruce Forsyth was presenting
Strictly, the air of danger in wondering when he would next fluff his lines was
entertainment in itself; and while Tess Daly is an experienced and much liked
presenter, there is a feeling that she is just going through the motions. As
for Claudia Winkleman upstairs, when did they throw away her grammar book?
Strictly may still be pulling in
the viewers (although many complained about Donny on Saturday night), but when
it comes to mainstream family entertainment, it is ITV rather than the BBC that
gets it absolutely right with its best shows. Switching channels from Strictly
on Saturday, The X Factor could have come from a different planet, for all the
superiority it showed.
Undoubtedly, it has benefited
from Simon Cowell making a return to the panel (but please stop munching on
those snacks, Simon; chewing is not a good look on television). The dynamic
between him, Cheryl Whateverhernameisthesedays (Corelone? Something Italian
sounding, anyway), Mel B and Louis Walsh is terrific. It is clear that Simon is
boss – when he tells Cheryl to “Shush”, she does, but always comes back with a
nicely timed barb at a later date.
The back stories to the
contestants are certainly attempts to manipulate the audience, but they are
real people with real stories. Strictly has tried to follow suit with
background scenarios that force contestants into play acting, and the result is
utter embarrassment. For the most part, these people are not actors, and trying
to get them to perform as such just looks ridiculous.
No matter how much we scream at
The X Factor, the best people (and don’t mock Jedward – they are hugely
successful) still make it to the final, and the winner is always deserving.
Only when Susan Boyle lost out to Diversity in the 2009 final did the nation
gasp, but the dance group were still very worthy winners.
The same is not true of Strictly.
Often, some of the best people are knocked out early on and duds make it
through. In 2008, ex-political editor John Sergeant even left the competition
of his own volition because, despite judges’ negative comments, the public kept
voting him in.
It is pretty much the same audience demographic voting for
both shows, but where viewers keep the fun acts in the X Factor to a point,
they take it very seriously when it gets down to the wire; on Strictly, there
is a feeling that despite outward appearances, the whole thing is still just a
bit of a laugh – or, these days, a joke.
The reason is simple: the public
are the people who will be buying the records of The X Factor’s participants.
In voting for them, they are endorsing their own music tastes and setting their
own standards; they feel closely related to the acts they support because, at
the end of the day, they will be inviting them into their homes; they have a
stake in their stardom.
There is no such investment in
the Strictly format. All we really care about each season is which partners
will sleep together; we enjoy the murky headlines far more than we enjoy the
show. And at no time has this been truer than this series; even the costumes
are inferior to previous years. Clearly, the sequin budget has been severely
cut.
The X Factor remains top of the
leader board in terms of prime time family entertainment, and the faultlessly
produced X Factor still has legs and continues to re-invent itself every
season. Strictly, by comparison, is very much on its last legs.
It can only be
a matter of time before it is sent cha cha cha-ing into the sunset.