No room for boredom with Judge Rachel as public axe hovers over contestants.
Judge not, lest ye be judged. Last night's Dancing with the Stars was remarkable for the in-fighting among the judging panel, as Desperately Wanting To Please Judge Camilla and Please Help Me With My Ever-Changing Hair Judge Julz ganged up on I'm Mad As Hell And Not Gonna Take it Any More Judge Rachel.
Rachel is the dark other to the insincere, crowd-pleading sunniness of Camilla and Julz. They want everyone to get along. They want world peace. They want us all to die of boredom.
Rachel isn't having any of that. She's a reality check. She's the show's dominatrix, giving the contestants a taste of the lash, commanding them to kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather.
Zac Franich looked depressed while David Seymour had a bit of a bum night.
She's also the mistress of the devastating pause. Rachel will dispense a rare compliment, then pause, draw breath, look down, look up, paint her nails, look down again, suck in her breath, do the crossword, consult with God, sleep for a thousand years, then look up again and tell the contestant who by now is suffering a nervous breakdown: "Unfortunately ... "
There was one unfortunately too many last night for Camilla and especially for Julz. After Rachel had finished telling Jess she wasn't actually the greatest thing on one leg, Julz slapped the desk, and erupted: "What are you talking about?" Camilla saved her protest for her score, and gave Jess a ridiculous 9.
Jess finished up first equal last night, alongside Zac, which followed his depressing speech about how depressed he was not to have made the Olympics. That was in a taped interview. The camera lingered on his face after he gave his speech. God he looked depressed.
Suzy Cato looked like she was going to faint when Rachel told her that her dance was "boring".
David Seymour and his dance partner.
This was likely the first time in history that anyone has ever said something to her that wasn't 100 per cent sweet. Will she recover?
David Seymour, yet again, finished last. Enough of this fellow. There comes a time when helplessness and hopelessness stops being cute. "Much better!" said Camilla, meaning he wasn't as terrible as last week, when each of the judges gave him a low, low 4. Last night they each gave him a merely low 6.
Rachel paid him a compliment. He knew what that meant. He squeezed his buttocks, waiting for the worst. "Unfortunately," she added, "you stuck your bum out."
She then attempted to give him some advice about what he could do with a baseball bat.
She didn't make it exactly clear where she was advocating he put the baseball bat but a shadow of fear crossed Seymour's face.
He's got to go. He's no goddamned good. But the public are fickle; they have their favourites, they operate on whim, also fear and loathing.
Chris Harris performs on Dancing With the Stars.
First they came for the Persians. The show has been a terrible advertisement for cultural diversity. Gilda and Naz got quickly booted off, not for their dancing but for their otherness — both dark-haired and dark-eyed, both from the Middle East, that dark corner of the globe.
Who will they come for next? Everyone knows the great Dance Exponents song where Jordan Luck asks, "Who loves who the most?" In Dancing with the Stars, the question is: Who loves who the least?
