Strictly Come Dancing Christmas Special, review: from Peckham to penguinography - a joyful end to a vintage year

We were cruelly denied a Strictly Come Dancing Christmas Special (BBC One) last year, due to some pesky pandemic or other. Fans had to settle for a nostalgic clip show instead. Despite Omicron's best efforts this year, the cheering dance show was able to make a triumphant return - surely the shiniest bauble hanging from the festive television schedules.

And what a return it was. This was the first time since 2013 that we've seen a fresh batch of celebrities take to the floor, rather than previous alumni, and they braved the task with an abundance of good cheer. Even panto villain Craig Revel Horwood cracked a smile on several occasions. Truly a Christmas miracle.

With the only female presenting duo on prime-time TV and a 50 per cent female judging panel, Strictly has long been girl-powered. That dominance continued on the dancefloor.

The standout performers were singer Anne-Marie, the hilarious Mel Giedroyc, and news doyenne Moira Stuart. This trio thoroughly eclipsed the dad-dancing males. The Repair Shop’s Jay Blades, First Dates's maître d’ Fred Sirieix and presenter Adrian Chiles were left trailing in their wintry wake, eggnog on their faces. This was, however, an inspired piece of casting - recognisable faces perfectly attuned with the Strictly viewing audience; we'd love to see these six on the regular show.

Opening the show, Sirieix formed a frisky French-Australian pairing with pro Dianne Buswell. With hair dyed red to match his partner’s, he dressed as an undignified turkey and flew down from the ceiling for his frothy quickstep. He proved the best of a bad male bunch. Blades’s Only Fools and Horses jive was great fun but flat-footed and swamped by the wheeler-dealing theme. Jubbly but not lovely.

Even worse was Chiles, whose American smooth was so lumpen and lumbering, it recalled the dark days of John Sergeant. For her first celebrity partner, poor new pro Jowita Przystal was saddled with a Christmas donkey. His teenage daughters apparently counselled Chiles against taking part. Perhaps he should have listened. “That snowman had more personality, darling,” said Revel Horwood, nodding at a plastic prop.

Much more accomplished on that front was 72-year-old Stuart, who gamely requested a salsa. She moved, grooved and unleashed her hips alongside pro Aljaž Škorjanec. “The man’s a hunk,” she twinkled. Stuart even managed to make a Mrs Santa outfit look chic. “For 15 years, I’ve been begging you to do this show with me,” joked judge Anton Du Beke. “I turn my back and you’re on with a younger, firmer model. I’m furious.”

The most entertaining performer was Giedroyc, who committed fully to her ski-wear streetdance. Cue props, CGI penguins and comedy facial expressions. It was in the same hip-hop style as Bill Bailey’s signature Rappers Delight routine and just as joyous, if not nearly as sharp. “I’ve done myself a mischief,” she panted afterwards. “Underneath this jacket is moisture and gas.”

More technically impressive was the chirpily energetic Anne-Marie, who captured the Cuban carnival spirit in her leggy, lift-packed cha cha cha. She deservedly edged out Giedroyc to take home the Strictly Star trophy and was endearingly thrilled. “I’m so happy, my cheeks actually hurt,” she beamed.

A pair of musical guests provided a stark contrast. Jamie Cullum welcomed us in classy, swinging style. However, I’m not sure which was worse: Gary Barlow’s awful jacket or his stilted, faux-jazz slaughtering of Wonderful Christmastime. I hope he kept the receipt for both.

There were fleeting cameos from David Jason (whose video message reduced Del Boy fan Blades to tears), Huw Edwards, Carol Kirkwood and the Strictly class of 2021. The judges were in a generous mood, handing out high scores like paddle-raising Santas. The raucous studio audience, meanwhile, appeared to have partaken in a backstage Babycham or two.

This was a feelgood, shamelessly festive party which put the holly sprig on top of a vintage year for the sequin-spangled franchise.