When only four percent of scripted TV shows feature LGBT characters, what’s a gay girl to do? Why, strap on your gay goggles and watch TV along with us, of course! Our handy appraisal scale is better than any old letter grade. Other sites A+. We say, “What about our lezzy-lady feelings?”
First off, a cautionary note: These SnapCaps will not be objective. I started doing them because of all the anti-trans hysteria over Chaz Bono committing the great crimes of living his life and (gasp!) going on television, and the accompanying wave of screeching by many of the same people over the fact that Carson Kressley is on the same show and eek, that’s two (2) LGBT people on the same show, which means they are SHOVING THEIR LIFESTYLE DOWN OUR THROATS and oh, dear, was there ever a more unintentionally revealing metaphor in human history? Bigots are oddly adorable sometimes.
In the interest of full disclosure, I feel like I should also mention that my sister Brangien went through a phase during her early childhood when she really, really wanted Cher to be her mom. Since Chaz has publicly mentioned that he used to wish for less celebrity glitz in his childhood, there is clearly an alternate, wish-granting universe in which Chaz Bono is my big brother.
I am on Team Chaz, is what I am saying. And you are coming along with me.
I also encourage voting for Carson as a member of Team LGBT/Let’s Irritate the Bigots and for Hope Solo, because, come on.
After that, please do vote based on actual dancing.
OK. On to the show! (Or, rather, shows. We’ll be covering the magic of both the performance show and the results show. Hang on to your craniums.)
But in fact, there is a bonanza of, um, excellent goalkeepers to choose from
In addition to the other female celebrity contestants to choose from, there are the professional dancers, like Anna Trebunskaya.
And, oh, sorry, Petra Murgatroyd. We hardly knew you.
And then on Tuesday it turned out that there were even MORE professional dancers for the results show! I think? It’s a little overwhelming. Anyway, the new female member of the troupe, Sharna Burgess, described herself as a “sexy tomboy.”
I’m just saying.
Well, yes, there was a lot of dancing, but unless you were really impressed by Chynna Phillips and her raised leg while being twirled, the stuff in Monday’s competitive show wasn’t really hitting a level that could be called “athleticism” yet.
OK, David Arquette almost letting his partner hit the floor too fast and then not was fun, but not really the stunning precision work I was hoping for.
Tuesday night featured some jumpy, flippy dancing from the 18,000 dancers in “The Troupe,” but I’m still learning everyone and it was tough to be involved in the stakes.
There was also a performance by LMFAO during the results show in which they all tried so hard to be kewl that the whole band simultaneously suffered torn rotator cuffs. Yeowch. At least that roof got raised.
To be honest, most of the physical thrills came from hoping worrying that someone might faceplant and trying to catch Hope Solo audibly muttering “Heels, not cleats. Heels, not cleats. Heels, not cleats…”
There are monsters on this show, and they must be defeated.
There is, of course, the monster of rigid gender roles: How many times did we hear about Hope’s muscular arms in the same tone of voice one might use to discuss an evil, profanity-spewing second head that had sprouted from her shoulder?
GET THAT WOMAN INTO A FLOOFY PINK OUTIFIT!
There are more tangible monsters, however, and this week’s exasperating results show proves that they pose a real threat.
The first is Rob Kardashian, a Kardashian who is somehow on television without even having bothered to release a sex tape. Put your back into it, man!
We need to draw the line on Kardashians on television. This far, but no farther! Because when Kardashians go on television, they bring reinforcements.
You know how in Beowulf Grendel gets his arm torn off, but then he flees back home to his mother’s cave, and holy gnawed Danes, she turns out to be like twelve times scarier than he ever was?
When Rob Kardashian got a harsh critique from the judges, one of his sisters appeared and shrieked “Clean your ears!” from the audience. (I don’t know which sister; I refuse to tell them apart. I’ll go with Kreepy.) The point is, we cannot let this situation stand.
But scariest of all is The Evil One, Nancy Grace.
I’m sorry, but if you’ve founded your entire career on being the Screeching Harpy of Guilty Without a Trial, you don’t get to start pretending you’re fun and appealing or in any way human.
Plus, her smiling “human” act is a total lie. I actually watched some of the weird time-waster “Meet the Cast” special before the weird time-waster results show. They were apparently unable to find one single clip of Nancy Grace being genuinely nice – or even civil – to someone.
Grace even tried to prey on her audience’s patriotic feelings by going with George Washington’s haircut for her dance number.
Don’t be fooled. Stay on your guard.
And quit voting for her just to torment me. You know who you are.
FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS!
However, it turns out that the dancers wear mics during the performance show and we get to hear bits of those feeds during the results show, so at least there’s potential there. Plus David Arquette has something of a Gary Busey vibe during the candid segments. Keep a sturdy table handy so you can duck behind it.
Ricki Lake was crying at the end of her dance number, which she gets to do exactly one time and stay in my good books. I like Ricki Lake just fine, but being moved to tears by your own performance is… Well, it leaves you dancing on some very thin ice.
I’d say the strongest emotional response from most of the people I talked to was delight at how genuinely fun Chaz was to watch. I think the guy might have a shot.
That’s the strongest emotional response to the dancing, anyway. I don’t know about you, but most of the results show left me wracked with horror and despair. The show had so much gratuitous filler that several turduckens stalked out of the room in disgust.
Whatever you do, do not watch the results show live. Your fast-forwarding abilities will be crucial to your sanity.
I initially tweeted that watching the DWTS results show was like being smothered with a pillow, but I must amend that.
It was more like having someone announce that she’s going to smother you with a pillow, but then instead of doing that she stands over you slitting open pillow after pillow, just dumping piles of feathers on your head and never quite smothering you no matter how much you keep begging for the sweet release of death.
Really kind of a lot like that.
So that takes care of the horror. The despair part happened when I learned for the first time that the celebrity who gets kicked off is determined by a vaguely defined combination of judges’ scores and audience votes, which means the producers can pretty much sabotage or save anyone they want, for as long as they want.
Which probably accounts for this:
KICKED OFF THIS WEEK
Poor Ron Artest, lowballed from the start.
I give him props for handling his ouster with good humor and charm. Probably because he was thrilled to pieces to be off the show.
And as he said his joyous goodbyes, Nancy Grace disappeared cackling into a cloud of sulphur. Hop to, people. Let’s not let another results show go by with her still on it. She will grow more powerful than we can possibly imagine.
Now go forth and dance.