On last night's Dancing With the Stars, (honorary) Single Lady Melissa Rycroft was a no-show. ABC's reality TV darling incurred a hairline fracture of the ribs during the previous week and suffered an unsuccessful reaction to treatment on Monday. Her condition doesn't sound too promising as of this Tuesday morning, so a graceful bow-out tonight would not be too surprising. As long as she's able to dance next week, I hope Melissa is okay. She's one of the best dancers of the season; plus, I cannot handle the sight of Papa Bear Tony crying again. My TV does not need to hear sweet, frustrated nothings such as ''Do not cry, sad bear! You are so well-built!'' Other than Melissa's absence, it was business as usual under the motion sickness-inducing rainbow lights. Chuck's ''hand bra,'' which I think we all assumed the producers would want to forget, popped up prominently in the ''scenes from last week'' montage. The artist currently known as my new hero wore a hideously awesome sparkly jacket in the front row. Lil' Kim has caught a mild strain of the Jewels Belong On One's Forehead virus from the permanently bedazzled house band singer, Carmen Carter; Kim is expected to make a full recovery.
A real affliction (Gilles' separated shoulder) may as well not exist thanks to the magic of cortisone and the collective self-delusion of everyone involved. In the face of great tragedy, it's comforting to know some things never change. The contrast between last night's group tango and group mambo called to mind last season's pairing (paso and cha cha) — one dance was more dramatic and easier to sync up; the other was frenetic and inevitably goofy-looking no matter what. In the case of last night's lesser routine, the group mambo, the ''let's reinvent the term tighty whities'' agenda took care of that ''goofy-looking'' element, though the symmetry between the Technicolor staircase and the neon pink, green, and yellow accents in Team Mambo's costumes gave those white tights a run for their not-very-much-money.
Meanwhile, Bruno, who was in rare form last night, likened Team Tango to a pack of voracious ''rutches'' going for the attack. Between ''rutches'' and ''lazoo'' (in English: ''roaches'' and ''lasso''), it seems Mr. Tonioli's ghostwriter might have forgone the phonetic flash cards this week. Perhaps he/she was busy getting drunk with Bruno's choreographer. These two must work roughly an hour per month and communicate with Bruno exclusively in his native tongue, Jibberish. Would we really want it any other way?
Source: ew.com
A real affliction (Gilles' separated shoulder) may as well not exist thanks to the magic of cortisone and the collective self-delusion of everyone involved. In the face of great tragedy, it's comforting to know some things never change. The contrast between last night's group tango and group mambo called to mind last season's pairing (paso and cha cha) — one dance was more dramatic and easier to sync up; the other was frenetic and inevitably goofy-looking no matter what. In the case of last night's lesser routine, the group mambo, the ''let's reinvent the term tighty whities'' agenda took care of that ''goofy-looking'' element, though the symmetry between the Technicolor staircase and the neon pink, green, and yellow accents in Team Mambo's costumes gave those white tights a run for their not-very-much-money.
Meanwhile, Bruno, who was in rare form last night, likened Team Tango to a pack of voracious ''rutches'' going for the attack. Between ''rutches'' and ''lazoo'' (in English: ''roaches'' and ''lasso''), it seems Mr. Tonioli's ghostwriter might have forgone the phonetic flash cards this week. Perhaps he/she was busy getting drunk with Bruno's choreographer. These two must work roughly an hour per month and communicate with Bruno exclusively in his native tongue, Jibberish. Would we really want it any other way?
Source: ew.com
