It’s not long into the launch show of Strictly Come Dancing 2024 before co-host Tess Daly is excitedly gesturing towards “the magical Strictly glitterball”.
As the show embarks on its 20th anniversary year, has the glitterball been irrevocably tarnished?
Contestant Amanda Abbington accused professional dance partner Giovanni Pernice of “unnecessary, abusive, cruel and mean” behaviour in last season’s training – all denied by Pernice.
An internal BBC investigation costing a reported £250,000 is expected to deliver its findings before the series starts properly. Since making the complaint, Abbington has been the target of death and rape threats against herself and her children.
Another dancer, Graziano di Prima, left the show, after alleged “verbal” and “physical” attacks on celebrity partner Zara McDermott, with one video said to show Di Prima “kicking” McDermott. Di Prima has apologised, but said it was a one-off. He is now reported to be suing the BBC for failing to “support and help” him when the allegations broke.
The bad news kept coming. In August, former professional Artem Chigvintsev (who won Strictly in 2010 with Kara Tointon, and left the show in 2013), was arrested on suspicion of domestic violence in California.
The Observer reported in July that former production staff complained of a toxic work culture. A BBC News investigation among 15 younger production staff revealed a “toxic” atmosphere, with a junior member alleging verbal abuse.
For the new series, the BBC has strengthened welfare and support, including production team “chaperones” in rehearsal rooms.
While Strictly has been embroiled in scandal before, all this feels next-level. The exultation of hosts, Daly and Claudia Winkleman, and dancers, as Strictly won the talent show category at last week’s National Television Awards (voted for by viewers) might be construed as relief.
As I watch the launch show, I can’t be the only one wondering if the show’s fabled wholesome “family viewing” reputation is too tattered to recover.
After a candy-coloured, frolicking opening sequence featuring the Strictly gang on a bus that breaks down (a bit on the nose, maybe?), it’s straight into the show.
The hosts: Daly in glitterball-silver; Winkleman in a white suit (the joint sartorial effect is: “Cruise ship gangsta-couple head for the casino”).
The judges: head judge Shirley Ballas; Craig Revel Horwood; Motsi Mabuse; and Anton Du Beke.
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The contestants, including: comedian Chris McCausland, who’s blind; Olympic gold swimmer Tom Dean; Singer Toyah Willcox (whose husband, Robert Fripp of King Crimson fame, cheers her on from the audience); presenter Nick Knowles; former Arsenal and England footballer Paul Merson; Love Island contestant Tasha Ghouri (who’s deaf with a cochlear implant), and more. Returning dancers include fan-favourite Amy Dowden (after completing treatment for breast cancer). Last year’s winners, former Coronation Street actor Ellie Leach and Vito Coppola hit the floor and perform their Paso Doble with ferocious brio.
There are no same-sex couples this year. Nor any politicians (Oh, for the sweet innocent madness of Ed Balls’s Gangnam Style in 2016).
There is, however, an obvious imbalance in male and female contestants: six women to nine men! Who knows if, after the controversies, women were less keen to sign up for the Strictly class of ’24, but, as the contestants start plonking themselves on the plump sofa to be introduced to their professional partners (McCausland with Dianne Buswell; singer, JB Gill with Dowden; Willcox with Neil Jones, and so on), the disparity starts looking jarring.
As is the Strictly way, everyone professes themselves delighted (thrilled, darling!) with their partners. Then it’s time for the contestants/professionals inaugural group dance (to Liquid Gold’s Dance Yourself Dizzy), which, at times, resembles a spangled neon-coloured motorway pile-up. And that’s it really.
That’s all the Strictly launch show is supposed to be. For viewers, a bit of ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the pairings. Maybe some speculation about who’ll be the first to get the glitter-boot (no offence to Merson, but in the group dance it looked like he was chasing a chicken around the dancefloor). So why do I find myself tensely clutching the arm of my sofa?
Part of the appeal of the Saturday night juggernaut is that it’s always an equal parts cosy but confident show: quietly sure of its gilded place in the light entertainment firmament. Is it just my imagination, or did the launch show feel more nervous than usual: with rather more jitter than glitter? The judges’ bonhomie a mite strained? Daly and Winkleman’s smiles a bit too big and resolute?
The culminative effect is of a show trying to razzle-dazzle all the troubles away. At this stage, whether that can be achieved, and all issues successfully resolved, remains unclear. Happy 20th birthday year, Strictly. For now, the show goes on.
