Better Late Than Never

by Len Goodman

  For me the most frustrating thing about the first series was the bloody clothes they dressed me in – serves me right, I suppose, for turning up as the eccentric Englishman in my tweeds for the interview with Izzie Pick. They asked me to go into the BBC one day to try on the suits that they wanted me to wear. Because I was green I agreed, but I remember some of the things they put me in – strange colour combinations and styles – I looked like a bloody idiot. They made Bruno, Craig and I look too alike, by colour coding us – it wasn't my scene at all. Being the new boy I agreed, but once I got my foot under the judge's table I said, enough, I want my own clothes.

  Not only did I feel like the new boy, I also felt like the odd one out amongst the 'motley crew', as I soon began to call us four judges. I'd vaguely heard of Arlene Phillips from Hot Gossip, but I hadn't heard of either Craig Revel Horwood or Bruno Tonioli. I found out that they all knew each other. Bruno had appeared in a video for Elton John's 'I'm Still Standing', shot in the South of France, which Arlene had choreographed. Bruno was wearing Speedos and sunglasses and not much else. Craig has done many directing and choreography jobs in London's West End. So the three of them were from the world of luvvies. To begin with I wondered why the BBC hadn't got four people from my world of dancing, but I soon realised that they had got it just right. If they had done that, they would have got four very similar critiques, instead of each of us judging through the eyes of our own experience. But I still felt like the old fuddy-duddy ballroom expert amongst the showbiz crew.

  Another aspect of being the ballroom and Latin man that came into play before the first show was the fact that they needed my expertise to tell them what to look for in each dance. I got several calls saying, 'What do you look for in the foxtrot?' A day or so later the same question about the cha-cha-cha. I eventually went to meet one of the production team to explain in great detail what judges in professional dancing look for. It had taken me a lifetime to accumulate all this knowledge so I cheekily said to the BBC, why don't you take me on as a consultant as well, because knowledge doesn't come cheap. Despite being a licence payer, I got the bum's rush and they pleaded poverty.

  Unusually for me I found myself getting nervous as the days ticked by, not so much about my own performance, but more about whether it was actually going to happen or not; of course it was going to happen because it was in the Radio Times. What if I should come over as a bit wooden? I contented myself by remembering what my dad always said to me: 'Be yourself, don't try and be what you're not, don't try and disguise who or what you are or where you come from.' I think I've done pretty well on that score; no one could accuse me of trying to posh myself up.

  I suspect the BBC expected me to be fairly dry in my comments, something like I had been on Come Dancing, but nobody's telling me what to say: but I just make it up as I go along – there's no script, and I just busk it. Instead of saying, 'Your head should have formed a picture to the left as with your partner,' I come out with all my little sayings, which is the way I've always taught anyway. 'It's lovely rise and fall, up and down like a bride's nightie,' or 'You're just like a trifle, fruity up the top but a little bit spongy down below.' The other judges, especially Bruno who has become a master of analogy, learnt very quickly. I think Jason Wood was probably the first one to be on the receiving end of one of my specials – 'Wood by name, wood by nature.'

  One of the most useful things that we got prior to the first show was a briefing sheet from the BBC; we get them for every series. Each one has a photograph of the celebrity; it gives a synopsis of their career, if they went to theatre school and other titbits of information. For me those were invaluable in helping me get to know the people I'd be judging, as well as giving me some background that I might be able to work into some funny quips. While that side of things was all very organised, the one thing that worried me more than anything was how an earth were the professionals going to teach some of these celebrities to dance? It was in some ways less of a problem for the first show, because they had been practising for five weeks, so their first dance was made much easier. It was week two and thereafter where it started to get tricky. Naturally they start to work on subsequent dances so on the first series the people that did the cha-cha-cha on week one, then did a quickstep on week two, a jive on week three and foxtrot on week four. The couples that did a waltz on week one then did a rumba, tango and then a paso doble on the subsequent weeks. For the fifth week the five remaining couples all did the samba and for the last three weeks the dances were mixed up, but these were all dances they had not done in the opening weeks. Putting it like that makes things sound very straightforward, but believe me it's asking a lot to have people remember what to do and in the correct order. Every series has had its share of disasters, but a lot less than I thought there would be when we started out.

  Apart from raising their profile one thing the show does do for the celebrities is to get them very fit. In that first series Lesley Garrett lost virtually two stone, none too surprising when you consider she was dancing four or five hours a day, for five weeks, and she stayed in until the next-to-last week. Some people come up to my dance classes for an hour's tuition in airconditioned luxury and cannot understand why they aren't losing pounds and pounds; it helps to keep you fit, but not much more. In the third series Darren Gough lost a heck of a lot of weight. I don't suppose it did his cricket any harm either.

  Naturally I had no difficulty with knowing the professionals as I had judged most of them for years, some since they were just kids. Their problem is that it's not just about impressing the judges but also the public sat at home on the sofas; for the most part my fears were unfounded. I really felt sorry for one or two of the professionals, especially Kylie Jones who danced with Jason Wood. He was the worst dancer on the first series and was off on the second week and Kylie has never been asked back. It was a similar story with Hazel Newbury who danced with Quentin Willson – definitely the worst dancer who has ever been on Strictly. Hazel is one of the highest-ranked professional dancers to ever be on the show and after a week with Quentin she was never seen again. Anyone who had either of these celebrities as a partner had as much chance of winning as a ham roll at a Jewish wedding.

  The first series was a novelty for me, but I also loved it because there was such an eclectic mix of celebrities. I managed to get my 'all sizzle, no sausage' into the first show when I described Verona Joseph and Paul Killick's efforts. It's one of those expressions I've been using for years but now people are forever throwing it back at me. I was surprised that Natasha won, not because she wasn't a good dancer because she turned out to be great, but after the first week she hated the show and wanted to be off it. But gradually her loathing of ballroom turned into an absolute love for it, which was wonderful to see, and a great advertisement for dancing. Not surprisingly the BBC loved it because she was one of their own; it was straight out of the Angela Rippon script. Having read the news for years Angela did a dance sketch on Morecambe and Wise's show; to everyone's surprise she had legs and pretty good ones at that.

  With the first series over everyone was just overjoyed by how well it had gone; even those people who always thought it would do well couldn't have begun to imagine just how well it did. There was a very quick decision to put on a second series in the autumn, which was a much better slot than the summer season was for series one. The run up to Christmas, the dark nights drawing in, the fun of a Christmas final, is just the right recipe for success. In fact, the finals have been getting closer to Christmas the longer the series has run on, with the last two being the Saturday before Christmas.

  Everyone, from the production people to the professionals and us judges, was excited about the prospect of a second series. We were told that it would this time feature ten couples although it would still only last eight weeks. This was the series when Quentin and Hazel amassed just eight votes and Bruno came up with a corker, 'It's like watching a Reliant Robin with a Ferrari.' What became clear in this series is how sports
people have got such a great work ethic and they take being coached very seriously. Series two also had some bizarre pairings and some interesting moments.

  Julian Clary's name was the one that jumped out at me when the BBC sent me the biographical notes. Not an obvious choice for a male celebrity, particularly after he announced that he had never touched a woman in his life. 'Tinkerbell', as Bruno christened him, surprised himself and probably us all too. Erin Boag, his partner, was amazing in the performances she pulled from him. He also produced one of the great comebacks when Craig was highly critical of his paso doble in the fourth week. 'Craig, you wouldn't know a paso doble if you sat on one! And you have far too much make-up on.' Brilliant! Julian made it all the way to the final but was well beaten by Denise Lewis and Jill Halfpenny.

  It was in the second series that we had our first public spat between a celebrity and a judge. There was Diarmuid Gavin, who I described as 'spotted Dick' – one of the least talented dancers we have ever had on. Others like Roger Black, the athlete, and Aled Jones were really good and perhaps even did better than they or the public imagined they would. I really liked Aled despite describing him as 'All balls and no heels'. However, the spat involved Carol Vorderman, who was knocked out after the second show, and Arlene. Carol hurt her cartilage in the rumba while dancing with Paul Killick. Arlene said of her performance that she didn't see any connection between her and Paul and that Carol lacked emotion. Whether it was losing out so early on or something else that got to Carol, it certainly kicked off between the pair of them. Carol wrote a newspaper article in which she said that Arlene showed, 'undisguised animosity ' towards her. Throughout the shows, both in Britain and the USA, I'm always reminding myself about what Laurence Olivier said when Charlton Heston asked if he read what the critics said. 'I take no notice of bad ones, even less of good ones.'

  I'm often asked how they pair celebrities and professionals – it has nothing to do with us judges. We don't know until just before the series starts who is with who, which is how it should be. The first thing they think about is the couple's height; it's no good having a six-foot-four bloke paired with the shortest lady professional. There's also the personalities of the professionals: if you have one of the more abrasive male dancers with one of the gentler female celebrities then they'll spend most of their weeks training with her in tears, although that has happened to some of the toughest of our female celebrities. At the other end of the professional spectrum is Anton du Beke who has stayed friendly with almost all his partners.

  By the time we got to series three we'd got into our stride, added to which I think it had the greatest variety of good and bad – so far. From Zoe Ball, who is a very good dancer, to Fiona Phillips who was rubbish. She was the exact opposite to what Walter Laird explained to me about toning. Fiona had absolutely no toning: she was just like a filleted kipper. Poor Brendan Cole, her partner, had no chance – she was so floppy on the dancefloor it was like trying to control a jelly.

  Possibly the three surprise packages in this series were James Martin, the TV chef, Colin Jackson, the athlete, and Darren Gough, the big chunky Yorkshire cricketer. They all got down to the last four before James, who worked incredibly hard, was knocked out in the semi-final. Darren Gough went on to win it, despite coming a close third behind the other two finalists on the judges' vote. When I looked at the list of celebrities when we started, I thought, Darren – he's likely to be a Yorkshire pudding, but he turned into a Yorkshire terrier. For my money Colin Jackson should have won, but for the blunder in the final when he and Erin Boag did their speciality exhibition number. Rather than do a traditional dance together Erin decided to try something very different. She used two full-size rag doll puppets, which were attached to their feet; Colin danced with the female doll and Erin with the male doll. It was a brave effort and you never know what will work and what won't, until you've done it, but theirs was a gamble that didn't quite come off.

  Quite naturally there's a bit of them and us, them being the celebrities and the dancers. They develop a very strong bond so it's none too surprising that they sometimes react to a caustic comment from a judge. I've rarely said anything I regret, or I didn't honestly mean, about a celebrity's dancing. I admire what they do so much, for having the guts to go out there and put themselves on the line. How many of us would risk making total fools of ourselves in front of the whole nation?

  One of my only regrets is what happened with Kelly Brook and Brendan Cole in 2007. For the first seven weeks on the fifth series, they were always in the top two or three and looked certain to make the final. On week eight I gave them both a bit of a bollocking. I was particularly on Brendan's case, saying, 'This girl is so talented, Brendan, I don't think you have given her a routine that was good enough for a girl of her standard.'

  I had no doubts that the following week they would come back stronger and it would allow me to say I'd been hard, but was happy to see them come back to be so much better; sadly Kelly's father passed away and she withdrew from the competition. I always felt awkward about what happened and I'm sure Brendan has felt a tad of animosity towards me.

  On the fifth series the BBC introduced a new system of judging so that the public were not the only ones to decide on who was in the dance-off each week. It meant that we the judges had to make a choice between two celebrities. It partially came about because in the previous series DJ Spoony and Ray Fearon got voted off; it was wrong that they were eliminated because there were far worse dancers that stayed in. DJ Spoony is a sports journalist and DJ on BBC's Radio 5 Live so he's not one of the best-known celebrities and that counted against him. I've heard since that people have suggested that it was because they were black, but I'm certain the issue was about them being not very well known. So often it's us judges trying to keep people in while the public, who has a mind of its own, want them out. With the new format it put much greater focus on us as the final arbiters, and me in particular as head judge, as I sometimes had to decide who stayed to fight another week. I felt terrible when Penny Lancaster and Gabby Logan were in the bottom two, somewhere neither of them should have been. Kenny Logan, yes, almost any week, but not his missus. Later I had to vote off either Gethin Jones or Matt Di Angelo and whereas Gethin had for me been better over the whole series Matt was better on that night, so Matt stayed. Ironically Matt should have gone the week before, but the public had kept him in. Sitting watching the show were Karen Hardy, who had been voted off in week one, having partnered Brian Capron, and Carol McRail, a teacher and judge I know very well. As the show finished and we were walking off the set, Karen said:

  'Len that must have been a really tough call, but you made the right decision, well done.'

  Karen gave me a kiss and Carol said pretty much the same, so I felt better as both of them have been dancing all their lives, so they know what's what. Just then Brendan Cole came by.

  'You arsehole,' said Brendan.

  'What did you say?' He just kept on walking. 'Oi, what the bleedin' hell did you say.' I went after him and as I caught up with him, I said, 'Who the hell are you calling an arsehole?'

  'You! You're an arsehole.'

  At that moment Claire Callaghan, the producer, along with several other people came along and Brendan walked off. I explained what had happened and Claire said that she was sorry he'd said that and what I did was absolutely right. I was still upset but headed back to my dressing room. In normal circumstances I probably would have laughed and said, 'Bugger off, you silly sod.'

  Sue was there, which was a good thing because she calmed me down. 'I can only put it down to the Kelly Brooks business a couple of weeks earlier. Then again it could be because he used to dance with Camilla Dallerup and she was dancing with Gethin and he wanted her to do better. Who knows what it is,' I said to Sue. 'I tell you one thing, I was wrong to go off on one in public, but I was so upset.' At that moment there was a knock on my dressing room door. It was Brendan who apologised to me. One thing my dad always said to me was, 'If so
meone is big enough to apologise, you be big enough to accept it.'

  'Brendan, we all go up in the air over things, it's of no consequence as far as I'm concerned, it's all forgotten. Passions rise in the heat of the dance.'

  And it was all forgotten. Everyone takes it very seriously and tensions run high, which of course is why the dancing is often so brilliant. Claire Callaghan then came in to see me and to make sure I was okay. I said, 'Look he probably thought I had made a mistake. He's been in and apologised so as far as I'm concerned it's over. I think Brendan's great because he's a personality, he's spiky, he's got an edge, you never know what he's going to do and he's a great dancer, both in ballroom and Latin, so to me he's an asset on the show.'

  It reminds me of an old story about what are the three hardest things in the world to do? Climb a wall that's leaning towards you, kiss a girl leaning away from you and criticise someone who's looking directly at you. Perhaps a strange outcome of the show is that dancers like Anton du Beke or Darren Bennett or Camilla Dallerup and Brendan have become bigger stars than some of the celebrities because more people watch Strictly Come Dancing than most other shows on the television.