When Mum used to rave about Strictly Come Dancing back in the Noughties, I ended up having to stick my fingers in my ears and chant “La la la, I can’t hear you…” It wasn’t the concept of a show about ballroom dancing that I objected to – each to their own – but the notion that she’d think I would enjoy it. I hated the ITV-style celebrity glitz, the audience voting and – well – the blooming dancing I just DON’T DO DANCING!
Admittedly my interest was piqued slightly when cricketers like Darren Gough and Mark Ramprakash proved surprisingly adept and when my new family in Bridgwater watched the show I reluctantly joined them, and pretty soon I became hooked. Bruce Forsyth was well past it but the live music element appealed and even I could tell whether someone had tripped up in a waltz or performed a rumba with the hip movement of a concrete cow. There was also the delight in witnessing familiar faces way out of their comfort zone.
Then there were the judges. On the Simon Cowell talent shows, The Voice UK and that skating nonsense, the panel are obviously considered more important than the competitors. From Amanda Holden to Torvill and Dean, Sharon Osborne to whoever has a new album to plug, it’s all about them. It wasn’t – and still isn’t quite like that on Strictly. They all have their personalities, of course, and have become intrinsic parts of the whole programme, but I find most of them annoying. Len was an old curmudgeon who loved the applause when he awarded crowd-pleasing marks but couldn’t take it when he was booed. I couldn’t stand his ego. Bruno is wonderfully flamboyant but ultimately a bit irritating, Darcey Bussell annoyingly posh and Shirley a bit – meh. Then there’s Craig Revel Horwood.
While not quite as camp as Bruno, the Australian brings a very different kind of entertainment to proceedings. Of course, he’s there to wind people up, be the pantomime villain, the antithesis of his fellow judges. But as I watched more regularly, I warmed to him. After all, instead of awarding a 5 to someone who could barely walk let along dance, he would tell it how it is, most infamously in the case of Tory politician Anne Widdecombe. Let’s be honest, he was only saying what we all thought, and that goes for most of his other Mr Nasty caustic comments.
As for Craig’s notoriously low scoring, I find it far more in tune to my own verdict than those of his colleagues who seem so self-congratulatory at waving their ‘10’ wands when the dance leaves something to be desired. When Craig gives a maximum you know it’s as close to perfection as an amateur can get, and I really respect that. I also love the way he delivers his marks with the same straight face whether it’s an elusive 10 or a mediocre 2. That glum blank expression is part of the act because he must also possess the brightest smile in showbiz.
Then there are his catchphrases. Len may have had his “Se-VEN!” but not even Bruno can claim anything as distinctive as Craig’s “Fab-u-LOUS!”, “Dis-AH-ster, dah-ling” or “A –ma-ZING!”. His enunciation of “Gor-geous” is another favourite of mine. He also has an endearing fondness when delivering his verdict on a performance for seemingly inviting the jeers before revealing fulsome praise. I remember watching his appraisal of Kimberly Walsh’s Latin dance in 2012 which began “indecent, improper, absolute filth…”, eliciting chuckles when he added: “…I loved it!”
Revel Horwood bring so much more to the party than anyone else, not only in terms of personality and pithy comments but in his multifarious talents. Last year he brought to the musicals episode a version of his panto dame act and in an early edition of Strictly’s It Takes Two companion he demonstrated a rather beguiling singing voice in a duet with pro dancer Anton du Beke. Most entertaining of all was his outrageously accurate 2017 impersonation of Bruno, to compensate for the Italian’s absence. Could you imagine Len or Arlene Phillips doing that?!
On top of all that, he’s an award-winning choreographer who has also directed West End musicals and even the opening ceremony for the 2002 Commonwealth Games, when Strictly was just a jotting on a BBC producer’s ideas list. Apparently he has also written songs and a debut novel is scheduled for publication later this year. What’s left for him to do?
To be frank I don’t care. While I’m no longer an avid viewer of the Beeb’s autumn Saturday night staple, and the Covid pandemic will mean inevitable format changes this year, it is Craig Revel Horwood who is the key ingredient, the one most likely to reel me back into the weird world of fleckles and box turns. Just don’t expect me to join in: that would be a dis-ah-ster….
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