Strictly not good enough

WOULDN’T it be nice if, instead of faceless experts doing the choosing, we could be the ones to select who we shoved into the Strictly Come Dancing spotlight.

Top of my list – and quite a few others – would have to be Staid Devil Horwood, the judge fans love to hate.

This master of the acerbic putdown has raked in riches by slagging off contestants, his low scores being matched only by the low opinion so many people hold him in. Fans would love to see him in spangled tights, with or without lunchbox.

A very close second has to be Jeremy Clarkson, another fast lane self-publicist whose inflammatory views have helped him laugh all the way to the bank. Seeing him risk the family jewels by doing the splits would please so many people.

Then there is Susanna Reid, she of the clumsy out-of-place comments on BBC Breakfast. Fortunately she’s already been selected for the show, so audiences are able to enjoy her tripping across the dancefloor instead of tripping over her tongue.

And who could deny Luis Suarez a chance to show his twinkle toed skills….and teeth! Judges would be far more likely to be non-committal or even praiseworthy if they knew that chewing him out risked him literally chewing them out!

That’s four spots filled and perhaps a fifth could go to Nick Clegg who has famously spent the last couple of years hopping from one foot to the other. Surely somewhere in there must be a dancer trying to get out?

And wouldn’t it be nice to see, to see it nice if dear old Brucie was put out to pasture and a fresh presenter brought in we could all genuinely laugh at such as Boris Johnson? After all, his music hall act was enough to get him elected Mayor of London.

Finally there is the question of the Strictly Come Dancing trophy. The glitterball might appear hard to replace, so I suggest the organisers don’t just keep it but have smaller versions made for every contestant.

After all, there is so much narcissism in this show that giving everyone a chance to look at themselves in those little mirror panes has got to be popular with all concerned.

Also, with luck, the dazzle from all those little reflections may be enough to blur or even obscure television coverage of the whole sequined scenario.

Then perhaps, just perhaps, the BBC might give us back a Saturday night schedule without some infantile, half-arsed peon of praise for putting brains to sleep.

Whatever happened to the top quality thrillers that used to appear at the weekend which used to entertain and excite in equal measure? What happened to the likes of Edge of Darkness and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy?

I could stand lightweight efforts like Strictly if they were just sweetened occasionally by a bit of pure class.

Sadly, like so much else which used to be familiar, it has fallen victim to budgets or been snapped up and away from terrestrial by the pay-to-view brigade, the gap created being crudely papered over with pap instead of genuine programmes to properly entertain in this key viewing slot.

I’m sure that such programmes will be seen again on a Saturday night, but how long will I have to wait?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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