Why Strictly's most honest and intimate moment is also its most mortifying

I love Strictly Come Dancing. It’s sparkly, funny, emotional and a chance to see some wonderful dancing. It’s also a chance to see some terrible dancing. The choreographed performances from elegant professionals matched up with concrete-footed celebrities – or admirably graceful ones – are a roulette wheel of excitement. Strictly is as much about cheesy moves and disastrous half-forgotten steps, really, as it is about refinement and polish. That’s the fun of it: people having a go and either pulling it off or trying harder next time, improving all the while.

But the bad dancing isn’t just confined to the choreographed dances. Oh no. Over the years, an element to Strictly has emerged that I honestly don’t know how to feel about, which is why I’m telling you about it now, in case you’ve noticed it too. It’s simultaneously the most cringe-making and the most exquisitely British piece of television you’re ever likely to see, and it happens every week.

I’m talking about the show opener, after the professionals have done their showdance wizardry and before the competitive dances begin. There’s a bit where each of the couples is announced and then stands on stage waiting to be joined by the others. In the meantime, while everyone is being announced, they all just groove along awkwardly to the music.

It’s fascinating because if you watch closely you can sense the thrill of nervous fear in the celebrities’ eyes. This is the moment when they know they’re soon going to have to perform the dance they’ve been rehearsing all week, and flitting across their corneas are all of the steps that have been drilled into them for days. Don’t mess up that lift, you can see them thinking. Feet together. Oh God, I hope I don’t forget the finale.

Meanwhile, their brains occupied, their bodies are out of control. They do a slight shuffle from side to side, hips swaying, maybe risking a couple of finger clicks or a minor shimmy. This bit clearly isn’t choreographed at all so they’re on their own, cast adrift from the refuge of professional instruction, left to improvise alone on national TV in front of millions. Some celebrities have particularly excelled and added their own unique twists to the format: there are fond memories of Ann Widdecombe merrily bobbing her knees, for instance, and Ed Balls giving the handclaps full throttle.  It’s mortifying and yet I can’t look away. I think it might actually be the most honest and intimate moment in the whole of Strictly, the moment where you can really see the whites of the contestants’ eyes.

The thing it reminds me of most strongly is the bit at weddings when the newlyweds are about to do their first dance, and everyone’s expecting it to be a slow waltz, and then the song starts to play and it turns out to be a fun, uptempo number. And the couple launch into their happy celebratory jive and all the guests are caught slightly off guard, but they want to join in, so everyone starts wiggling gamely but not moving from the obligatory observational semicircle around the dance floor.

I think I love it so much because it makes me proud to be British. They don’t do this on the US version of the show, Dancing With the Stars. I know, because I checked, and the whole Yankee affair is much more dignified and cool, which works because Americans are much better at looking confident and composed than us Brits. 

But the British version has its own particular charm. The awkward Strictly groovealong reminds us that though we are a small country, we try our best. And, most importantly of all, we’re not afraid of looking a bit silly.  I still have to watch that bit through my fingers though.