With millions tuning in to watch 'Strictly Come Dancing' every week, it's clear that ballroom dancing, in all its spiky-heeled, skimpily-dressed glamour, is back with a mighty vengeance - for young and old alike writes Fiona McCann
'THERE ARE NO NEW STEPS!" bellowed president of the Australian Dance Federation Barry Fife, the baddy in the 1992 Baz Luhrmann hit Strictly Ballroomduring his famous attempt to hold back the dance-tide sweeping the nation. Alas for Mr Fife, he was fighting the wrong battle, because it's not the new steps but the new dancers out there who are challenging the elite ballroom world and shaking up the dance floor like never before.
Strictly speaking (see what we did there), they're not just dancers either: they're chefs, models, rugby players, and singers, but, decked out in sequins and shiny, spangly suits, they're dancing up a storm on a small screen near you this autumn in the sixth series of this wildly successful BBC production, Strictly Come Dancing.
With millions of viewers in Britain and Ireland tuning in weekly to watch this Saturday night dance-off drama, it's clear that ballroom dancing, in all its spiky-heeled, skimpily-dressed glamour, is back with a mighty vengeance.
As the lights dim in the BBC studio and Brucey Forsyth steps out of shot, a dwindling number of celebrities partnered with professional dancers are put through their paces before the raised eyebrows and shaking heads of a judging panel of dance experts - not to mention countless foot-tappers at home in their living rooms suddenly well-versed in a whole new vocabulary of dips and lifts.
So how did the swirling paso doble and raunchy rumba become conversational currency in sitting rooms across this state, with all of us now experts on the importance of timing and clean dance lines? Who better to ask than the show's straight-talkin', sharp-shootin' judge, Australian dance divo Craig Revel Horwood, the man viewers love and loath in equal proportions.
Revel Horwood, who has recently released a tell-all tome, aptly entitled All Balls and Glitter, containing plenty of gossip from behind the scenes at Strictly Come Dancing, has a theory on the reasons for the show's success. "Everything bling is in, and Strictlyis strictly bling, isn't it?"
Whatever your views on his harsh judgments of the dancers, it's hard to disagree with him on this. There's a camply colourful glitz and glamour to Strictlythat is all the more necessary in this time of black moods, grey weather and red bank balances. After all, watching twinkle-toed, slick-haired male dancers dip their sequinned partners is infinitely more pleasurable than watching the same thing happening to your share portfolio.
Yet the biggest measure of the show's success has been its universal appeal, luring in as it does a whole new demographic who would heretofore have sniffed at the thought of spending a Saturday night pontificating on the execution of a foxtrot. No more is the dance show the preserve of the stereotypical bored housewife: Strictly Come Dancingbeckons across class divides, to all ages and colours, and pulls in almost as many self-styled macho males as it does glitter-dazzled females.
This is partly accomplished by its clever introduction of some less than typical dancers into its celebrity mix. Take cricketer Darren Gough, for example. Known for his wicket-taking bowling, this six-foot tall, thick-legged and broad-chested sports star revealed an undiscovered grace when he took part in 2005's Strictly Come Dancingshow and went on to win the series, in the process completely debunking the myth that this was an activity for sissies and ladyboys.
"I think that Darren Gough has made it cool for butch blokes to get up and dance, because it does seem like a bit of a - dare I say? - poofy thing to do," says Revel Horwood, himself a former drag queen. "I think Gough, with his command of ballroom dancing, blew that perception of it away." This season, former Leicester and England rugby union player Austin Healy is bringing a whole new following to the show. "You wouldn't expect rugby fans to be watching it," says Revel Horwood, "but when I go to a rugby match everyone knows who I am!"
If rugby fans can watch ballroom dancing without fear of censure, and the likes of Revel Horwood can walk in their midst and be saluted, then there's clearly a revolution underway. With this in mind, however, it's worth noting that Strictly Come Dancingdidn't start the ballroom rolling on this, and owes more than a little to its precursor, Come Dancing.
Come Dancing- ah, the swirling, stiff-backed spectacle of it - dates all the way back to 1949, its popularity such that it went on to become one of the BBC's longest running shows of all time. Presenters over the years included Terry Wogan, Noel Edmonds and Angela Rippon, and dancers - all competing for the coveted Come Dancingtrophy - were even oranger and steelier-smiled than their present-day equivalents. The Come Dancers swirled and sashayed their way through the 1950s and 1960s to rapturous applause and stellar ratings until along came the 1970s, all platforms and bandanas, and ballroom hit a considerable snag.
"It really did die out in the 1970s, when Come Dancinghad its last innings," confirms Revel Horwood. "As soon as disco came out, people started dancing by themselves, and that lasted for quite a long period of time."
It was the doldrums of ballroom in which so many of us grew up, when the only chance to dance with a partner involved the shuffling spin offered up during the slow set, less of a dance move exactly and more of a protracted form of foreplay. Things didn't end there. The ballroom lull continued through the 1980s, as strictly delineated dance steps were out, leg warmers and back-combing were in, and dance floors were places to expressing your individual angst. As Revel Horwood opines: "Without ballroom, people have basically been headbanging for 30 years."
Although the camped-up classic that was Luhrmann's Strictly Ballroomcreated some new enthusiasts, it still didn't manage to bring ballroom back into the mainstream. Only when the defunct TV show was crossed with the Australian flick did BBC producers finally strike gold: Strictly Come Dancingwas born, and with it a whole new generation of gyrators hooked on their weekly dance fix.
Turns out these fans hadn't just stayed on their sofas, however. Viewers of Strictly Come Dancinghave been so galvinised by the sight of Baby Spice Emma Bunton doing her dip or cricketer Mark Ramprakash twirling his hips in a way that wouldn't have been allowed before the watershed back in Come Dancingdays, they're actually giving it a lash themselves, as Thomas Redmond, honorary secretary of the Irish Dancesport Federation testifies.
"Ballroom dancing is probably at one of the strongest points in its history at this present time," he says, an observation confirmed by Dance Theatre of Ireland, a spokesperson for which says interest in ballroom and Latin dancing is definitively on the rise. With dance studios adding new ballroom classes quicker than you can say "cha-cha-cha", everybody is dancing these days. Gone are the traditional three-minute wedding waltzes by the newly nuptialed, replaced by an infinitely more showy affair that is now considered the least you do to prove your undying affection. Frankly, if you can't dip, twirl, lift and slide your way through a full wedding medley on the big day, your guests are pretty much entitled to take their presents back.
Then there are the side-effects, which, for once, are actually pleasantly positive. Turns out that, not only is dancing fun and pretty damn entertaining, it's also a handy way to shed some pounds through serious booty shaking.
"A lot of the heavier-built people are realising from watching Strictly Come Dancing that these people are losing a lot of weight, and from a fitness perspective, they're taking up dance classes," says Redmond.
There's also a kind of formalised social element to this stylised dancing that was lost in those 30 years of headbanging, a craze that bypassed social interaction and led straight to whiplash. There's a to-and-fro between dancer and partner, and a meet-and-mingle element to an organised dance that makes for a particularly mannered interaction. And let's face it, being an accomplished dancer is also a sure-fire way to impress your friends, colleagues and crucially, members of the opposite sex.
"It's a good social skill to have," says Revel Horwood. "I think it's just reminded people of that - of that social skill that involves human beings getting together and getting on with one another." The benefits of ballroom, he insists, are manifold. "It's a great way to meet people if you're lonely, and it's a good thing for both young people and old people to do. It crosses so many different social barriers and classes. It's a human spirit thing."
She may be a late-comer to all this so-called human spirituality, but Mary Mac Kell is having a ball. In her late 40s now, she started dance lessons five years ago with her husband Simon, who is in his early 50s. "It's such a nice thing to do together," she says of their regular dance classes and the competitions they've been taking part in. "But we don't wear those glitzy costumes at our age."
Mac Kell not only dances with her husband, they also take their weekly dose of Strictly Come Dancingtogether. "I wouldn't miss it," she insists. "And he watches the show with me religiously. We get a few dance tips from it." The rest of their tips they get from their teachers Sandra and Dermot Bracken, who, as testimony to how the whole dance phenomenon has come full circle, once appeared on the original Come Dancing.
"If you want to be really good at ballroom dancing you do have to start very young," Mac Kell admits, but she's not bothered about achieving the kind of levels of excellence that will win you a championship. "If you just want to have fun with it and meet a lot of people, then I'd definitely recommend it."
Ten-year-old Evan Matthew has his heart set on becoming a Latin professional dancer when he grows up. "It's great to dance," is his simple explanation for a passion that was evidenced when he began taking classes at the tender age of four. The idea came from his mother, Sandra, whose decision to take both her son and daughter to dance classes was partly motivated by the fact that her own parents had met through ballroom dancing.
"My daughter did it for a few years but never really took to it," recalls Sandra. In defiance of all the stereotypes surrounding gender and dance, Evan was the one who was instantly enthralled. "My son really fell in love with it." While his sister turned to other pursuits, such as drum lessons, Evan pursued his dancing and now attends classes or rehearsals every day, much to the amusement of his friends. "A year or two ago, they did tease me, but they've got used to it now," he admits. "They're always really pleased for me when I win competitions."
For a young boy growing up among football crazy friends, the danger with a pursuit such as ballroom dancing is the inevitable perception that, as Revel Horwood put it, it's a "poofy thing to do". According to his mum, Evan has an answer for those that suggest this. "He says he's the one that gets to be with all the nice girls, so why are they calling him gay?"
He may be on to something. It's a truth universally acknowledged that, though the fastest way to a girl's heart may be by making her laugh, the ability to twirl her around a dancefloor comes a seriously close second. Who can resist the charm of a gentleman gallantly steering his helpless damsel across a crowded dancefloor? Feminists may quibble with the need for the female partner to surrender to the male lead, but there's something base and carnal about the stylised formula that has yet to remove ballroom dancing from its roots in the vertical expression of a horizontal desire.
This is nowhere more obvious than in the increasingly popular Latin dances, with the Argentine tango and Cuban rumba numbers in the Strictly Come Dancingslot making for questionable family viewing. "My favourite is the Latin dancing," admits Vitali Sevastianov, a Russian-born dancer who has been living in Ireland for the past five years. "I particularly like the rumba. It's a dance about life's story, the story of the man and the girl."
Now aged 21, Sevastianov has been dancing for 11 years, during which time he won the Irish Dancesport Federation's all-Ireland championships three times, and has gone on to represent Ireland in various competitions abroad as the proud holder of an Irish passport. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sevastianov is a Strictly Come Dancingaddict, and watches whatever shows he can get his hands on, including the US and Polish equivalents.
Because, as Revel Horwood explains, this ballroom bonanza is not just confined to this corner of the globe. "It's all over the world!" he exclaims. "There are 30 productions of Strictly Come Dancinggoing on worldwide. It's not just a British thing, it's not just an Australian thing, it's an Italian thing, a Spanish thing, a Dutch thing and even an Irish thing."
Yet surely our own propensity for a bit of a damhsa makes us particularly amenable to a bit of ballroom? Doesn't the fact that we're genetically programmed for reels and jigs help when it comes to mastering ballroom? Unfortunately, no, at least according to Revel Horwood, who is adamant that Irish dancing and ballroom dancing have very little in common. "They're two completely different disciplines," says Revel Horwood. "They could be amalgamated, but I can't see any reason why you would want to do that. I think it could be quite odd."
Which is often how we look on a dance floor, our dancing styles an unfortunate hybrid of poker-assed rince and the aforementioned headbanging. Perhaps our dancing could benefit from a visit from Revel Horwood to help us out in that department, and thankfully, having worked in Ireland back in 1989 for three months on the musical Cats, he's more than ready for a return. "I'd love it," he says. "I'm dying to come over. I think that's my next trip actually."
With Revel Horwood set to take us on and guide us on the distinction between a reel and a rumba, there's every chance that the nation behind the phenomenon that was Riverdance could further its global domination through strictly federation steps. So given who's askin', are you dancin'?