by Strictly Come Dancing’s “curse” used to be shorthand for a bit of mild infidelity between a celebrity and their professional dance partner, adding an extra frisson of excitement to the ballroom drama.
Over the past few weeks, BBC bosses could be forgiven for thinking that Strictly, its biggest show, is under a curse. Corporation executives were forced into a rearguard action after allegations of poor behavior on Strictly’s part towards their amateur partners emerged.
Sicilian superstars Giovanni Pernice and Graziano di Prima left the show after complaints became public about the way they treated their partners in rehearsals. Pernice, 33, denied any wrongdoing after a series of partners complained; Di Prima, 30, expressed his “deep regret” about the “events that led to my departure” from the show but added that “when the time is right, I will share my story”. He allegedly punched, kicked and broke up with his Love Island alumnus partner Zara McDermott last year.
In a desperate bid to keep the glitterball spinning and shiny, the BBC is increasing its “welfare and support” for those taking part in the show, such as having a member of the production team in the rehearsal room at all times.
But the success of Strictly in recent years has been the amazing routines that amateur dancers – pushed to the limit by their teachers and professional partners – have performed in front of millions, from Rose Ayling’s silent symphony -Ellis by Pernice to the music of Bill Bailey. street dance, choreography by Oti Mabuse. Although it is very clear that there is any psychological or physical abuse in rehearsal rooms, some fear that a combination of fear of cancellation and the constant presence of a dance chaperone on our screens could make it worse. Will hard go soft?
“The whole environment of dance is very intimate, and the whole point of the show is to help dancers find something in themselves that they didn’t know was there: to bring out a kind of feeling when they dance, to encourage them to take risks in terms of technique and to develop something they are doing with their body,” says Peter Lovatt, dance psychologist.
“A really good dance professional will help people do that. And while people may feel vulnerable, it may be a very good thing for them. Having juniors watching the rehearsals might intimidate some of the professional dancers and prevent them from pushing – in a good way – their dancers.”
Not for the weak-hearted dancing. The American dancer and choreographer Bob Fosse was a famous tyrant who did not see a sprained ankle as a good excuse to skip a show, but who was still famous as one of Broadway’s greats; Debbie Reynolds had just three months to learn how to dance for Singin’ in the Rain and spent 15 hours straight filming the Good Morning scene. “My feet were bleeding from hours of abuse,” she wrote in her memoir. “I couldn’t move.”
The professionals need to be strong with their charges because ballroom dancing is such a difficult discipline to master and the fight for perfection can be a cause for conflict. “Sometimes that collision creates a wonderful fusion of ideas and personalities, and sometimes it doesn’t. You have two people moving together as one and that is very difficult,” he says. “I have been married to my wife for over 35 years and we are frustrated walking through the Tube network, as I walk faster than her.”
Lovatt, who goes by the nickname “Dr Dance”, was a guest on the show and its spin-off about a decade ago and tells me the show is extremely competitive behind the scenes. When he visited the set, the professional dancers taped photos of their six-packs on the wall of the locker room as a way to show them off, while doing push-up and pull-up competitions with the sportsmen involved. “They wanted to prove they were fitter than the athletes,” he says. “It was a friendly competition.”
In the last few days former contestants have been free to speak their minds about the show. Ann Widdecombe told those complaining to “grow up”, while Edwina Currie said “I dread the thought of chaperones in every exercise. I mean, you won’t be able to flirt” and the Reverend Richard Coles said that “no one is surprised that this stuff has come to light”. Coles told the pros: “It’s unemotional, it’s brutal, and they work in regimes that I think are very controlling for people who aren’t used to that. So it’s often a culture shock for people who come in.”
Esther Rantzen, the TV presenter who was paired with Anton du Beke in the second series, tells me that the show has moved too far from its original format in 2004, when amateurism was celebrated and there was no such pursuit of perfection there. “There’s too much pressure to try to make it a fancy dance show and they’ve forgotten that it’s an entertainment show,” she says. “This is a fun competition. The contestants should have more fun.”
The experiences of Amanda Abbington, who says her time with Pernice gave her post-traumatic stress disorder, and McDermott made taking part in Strictly anything but fun. Show bosses are said to be in the unusual position of scrambling to find celebrities – particularly women – willing to put themselves through the wringer for this year’s 20th anniversary series. The only contestant who could be teasing that they’ll be on the dance floor this year is GK Barry, a social media influencer with little mainstream profile.
One prominent agent says the months-long stream of relentless negative stories has been a “turn off” and that “talent and their reps are asking hard questions” of producers. Rumors of Ted Lasso star Hannah Waddingham or Girls Aloud singer Nicola Roberts are thought to be taking part throughout the Autumn. Even if they do participate, performers such as Waddingham and Roberts may find it patronizing to be told they need an escort during rehearsals.
Another agent, whose clients have appeared on Strictly, says he would be happy to put any of his fees on the show again – and anyone signing up needs to know it’s not an easy ride. “They get blisters, bruised toes, damaged feet – it’s like any sport. He’s under pressure,” he says. “If you’re someone who can’t handle the pressure of a sporting environment, don’t do Strictly. It’s a competitive show. You can’t win a sport without pain.”
Alan Yentob, a former BBC creative director who was instrumental in launching Strictly 20 years ago, says the importance of the show to the corporation cannot be overstated. “It’s a very important brand, not just because it’s an entertainment show but because it has touched the British public in a way that not many have. It’s not about making money, it’s about spending a lot of time, the kind of effort you have to put in is huge,” he says. “Everybody loves it. Something has gone wrong and they are dealing with it.”
At the end of each episode, hosts Tess Daly and Claudia Winkleman urge viewers to “keep dancing”. BBC bosses are also desperate for Strictly to continue.
