Joe McFadden & Katya Jones with Strictly Come Dancing 2017
Courtesy https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2017/dec/17/strictly-winners-2017-joe-mcfadden-katya-jones
Strictly crowns Joe
McFadden and Katya Jones in a sea of schmaltz
It was a sparkling sugar-rush of nerves for the BBC
Strictly Come Dancing final, a culmination of the winning formula of fake tan,
sequins and a little controversy
As the Strictly Come Dancing final unfolded, amid all the glitz, camaraderie and
spangles, a mutinous thought formed in the showbiz ether – had this series
missed the Ed-factor?
Well, perhaps a bit. Few could forget the
former shadow Labour chancellor Ed Ball’s appearance in the last series,
including his now infamous Bafta-nominated
Gangnam Style routine, where he danced as though
demonstrating the tragic effects of lifelong undiagnosed rickets.
However, as the 2017 final got going, it soon
became clear that even mentioning Balls was just “So 2016!” The night belonged
to the finalists, singer Alexandra Burke and
her partner, Gorka Marquez; former magician’s assistant and widow of Paul
Daniels, Debbie McGee and Giovanni Pernice; former Holby City actor, Joe
McFadden and Katya Jones; and Hollyoaks actor, Gemma Atkinson and Aljaz
Skorjanec.
They all faced the de-fanged near-powerless
judges (only viewers’ votes count in the final) Craig Revel Horwood, Darcy
Bussell, Bruno Tonioi, and new head judge for 2017, Shirley Ballas, who were
all lined up on their panel like the cast of a failed Grimm’s fairy tale. Then
there were the presenters Tess Daly and Claudia Winkleman – it
continues to be remarkable how, since the departure of the late Sir Bruce Forsyth, these mere
women have managed to host this primetime show, and in such an expert
entertaining way. It could only speak of witchcraft.
All the contestants showed what they could do
with their three final dances of the series, proving from the off that, with
grace, style, athleticism, Strictly has
become the equivalent of the showbiz Olympics. Sure, Strictly’s television
dominance this year had been helped by The X Factor committing
what amounted to weekly ratings hari-kari over on ITV. (I’m not saying
that The X Factor’s
viewing figures are low, but a strong rumour went around that, one week, a
suburban man putting the bins out too early got more people watching).
However, Strictly also
proved yet again that it understood its own winning formula – drown the
contestants in a vat of fake tan and what a cynic might term even faker
bonhomie, and let the controversy and sequins fly.
This year, the major controversy came in the
reactivation of what is sadly becoming the annual Strictly race row –
in that, despite two past non-white winners, including last year’s Ore Oduba, non-white
contestants generally tend to vanish with disquieting swiftness, and seemingly
due to the viewers’ votes. This year, Chizzy Akudolu had gone out first, while
Aston Merrygold, and Davood Ghademi, had gone out shockingly early, and Burke
ended up in the bottom two dance couples, despite coming at the top of the
leaderboard after the judges had given their marks.
At which point, one could raise a facetious
eyebrow and muse, gosh, what could it
all mean? However, is it fair to also factor in how predominantly white most
weekend primetime television is? In short, could the race be less of a Strictly-problem than it
is a general British light-entertainment issue?
Highlights included Joe and Katya performing
their tin soldier– themed Charleston as though determined to out-do last week’s
Tango in which Katya had lifted Joe’s entire body in a human wheelbarrow move
usually seen at school sports days during particularly eventful dads’ races.
There was also Gemma and Aljaz moving through their show-dance as though living
inside their own sparkly romantic snow globe, and Alexander and Gorka
performing a jive as though the floor had been electrified and then flooded
with Prosecco. And Debbie performing moves in her Argentine Tango that reminded
a younger and lesser woman such as myself that, one, I’ll never to be able to
do the splits, and two, if I tried, I would saddle the already beleaguered NHS
with a gynaecological emergency.
Ultimately, it was McFadden, the favourite,
who triumphed, though all the finalists and the other contestants (even the
ones who had gone out deservedly early, after dancing like a communal “walk of
shame”) were quick to say that they all felt like winners. At this point,
the Strictly final
descended into what could only be described as a sugar-rush of schmaltz
combined with a brawl on the entertainment deck of a cruise ship. So,
basically Strictly business
as usual, and why not? It’s what the people want.
