All Balls and Glitter (27 page)

It was fascinating to observe how the crowd in the studio reacted. The first words out of my mouth, live on the night
Strictly
first aired, were ‘Dull, dull, dull!’ which has become the comment for which many people best remember me. I was honestly surprised that people booed. Everything I had said was the truth – not what people wanted to hear or what I thought the Beeb wanted me to say. As far as I was concerned, it really
was
dull.

Unfortunately, that description happened to be directed at newsreader Natasha Kaplinsky, who went on to win the series, and her dance partner Brendan Cole. I did think she was boring to start with, but she grew on me.

In the original show, I sat where Bruno is now, next to Len, and Bruno sat at the other end, next to Arlene. The producers decided to swap us because Bruno generally gave good comments, whereas I tended to be harsh. The way the camera panned down the line meant that Bruno always spoke first, then Arlene, Len and finally me, which meant that we ended each routine with a big boo. So they put Bruno close to host Bruce Forsyth instead, so they could have a bit of banter, and stuck me – the vile social outcast – on the other end.

Watching
Strictly
take off was mind-boggling and quite scary, but only because I was giving away my anonymity. As a director and choreographer in the theatre, you are protected, because no one knows what your face looks like. People may know your name and those within the industry may know you well, but you’re not accosted in the street. Even the most famous theatrical names, such as Nicholas Hytner and Sam Mendes, were totally anonymous in a crowd before they made movies.

After that first programme, my face was everywhere, which was really odd for me. I hadn’t even considered that appearing on the series might make me famous. It was overnight celebrity and it felt very weird indeed, especially when I was branded the ‘Mr Nasty’ of the judging panel. The day after the broadcast, I walked
out the door of my house and someone recognized me. I’d had no idea of the power of television, so it was surreal. It’s easy to forget how much people talk about it – the show, us judges, the celebs and how they’re all getting on.

I found it funny how many passers-by just said, ‘There’s that bloke off the telly.’ It seemed to take five series before the public learned my name. Now, finally, I hear, ‘It’s Craig Revel Horwood.’ It’s a long name and people struggle to get the whole thing, so it took them a while. When you think how often the names are announced on the programme, though, before each and every scoring, it’s strange that even ardent fans of
Strictly
were foxed by it.

In that first series, we didn’t know how the show would affect us all. We were making it up as we went along. It was a brand-new concept and we were all finding our way: producers, directors, judges, celebs, dancers – in fact, everyone on the whole team.

In the beginning, it was all very chummy backstage, nowhere near as much tension as in the following series. I guess most celebs were thinking that it didn’t really matter, it was a bit of a challenge and fun. Everyone entered into it for charity and nobody, back then, thought their career depended on it. It wasn’t even seen as a career enhancer. Let’s face it, all they were really going to win was a mirrorball on top of a plinth. Of course, that proved to be very small thinking.

The show, almost instantly, turned into a phenomenon. The series-one winner, Natasha Kaplinsky, became red-carpet fodder for the next four years. She was invited to every high-profile event in the UK – and she’s a newsreader, for goodness’ sake, not a Hollywood actress or supermodel. I thought that was a brilliant consequence of her success on
Strictly
, though, that it brought the news to the red carpet. Current affairs has always been known, in my mind at least, for its stiff, starchy approach, but Natasha glamorized it and made it fashionable. The presenters can’t usually have emotional attachment or opinion on the material
they deliver, so the viewers don’t know what newsreaders are like behind their newsroom facade, but I think
Strictly
brought their personalities to the forefront a lot more, which was a positive thing as it has made the news accessible to all.

Natasha really didn’t want to do the series right at the start, but as the weeks progressed, she got more and more into it. To begin with, she lacked confidence, but as soon as she realized she could move, she adored it. She fell in love with the dancing by the end because she was so good at it.

There were rumours, as you may recall, that it wasn’t just the ballroom she had fallen for. A
Strictly
scandal erupted regarding her alleged relationship with her dance partner, Brendan Cole. Dancers and celebrities get very close during training and I’m sure that can occasionally lead to romance, but mostly they just become very good friends. The papers often get the wrong end of the stick. For example, in the same series, Martin Offiah and Erin Boag had a picnic together and were pictured laughing, so the media thought there was something between them. I didn’t believe that, although they were close pals.

As judges we don’t see any of what goes on backstage, so the first we know of any alleged relationships is when we read about them in the papers.

Natasha and I got on very well and used to chat in the bar after the live shows. I am one of the only judges to frequent the BBC bar following the programme. Len has his partner, Sue, so he usually has just the one drink before shooting off. Arlene has her family and likes to get straight back home after the show; she doesn’t drink anyway so it would be a bit dull for her. Right from the start, Bruno and I were the ones who stayed and chatted to everyone. We soon got to know one another well and became great friends.

I like to talk to the celebrities afterwards to reassure them that anything I’ve said is not personal, because no one likes being judged, including myself. In fact, lots of the contestants come up
to me in the bar to ask me to elaborate on my feedback. The judges generally have only ten or twenty seconds to comment on air. The contestants know I have a lot more to say, but I never get a chance to say it because of time constraints – and a lot of booing.

Being from the world of theatre, I’d anticipated that the television industry might be full of bravado and people being false. Conversely, I learned that there were actually a lot of people from the trade who were really into
Strictly Come Dancing
, unashamedly so. When I appeared on
Richard & Judy
, I’d thought that the eponymous presenters would probably put on the facade of being regular viewers, but it turned out that they are truthfully into it and desperately interested in everything. It’s wonderful that the programme has captured the imagination of the nation.

Following the success of the first series in the summer of 2004, another was planned immediately for the peak autumn schedules. Series two ran from 23 October to 11 December 2004. I went into it with less confidence, strangely. I thought it would be difficult to repeat our success. The first season was unique, genuinely improvised because we didn’t know what we were doing. We only really formulated it at the end of that series and though we knew we had something, we didn’t quite know what.

I went into the new season with great trepidation, thinking, ‘It’s going to plummet and fall on its arse because the celebrities won’t be as good and people will see it as a formula and nothing more.’ I was also concerned that the judges would be branded and become caricatures of ourselves – and that I would become more well known and lose jobs in the theatre.

In fact, that’s what happened. A lot of directors are apprehensive about working with me now because they think I’m going to be horrible to the company or too starry. The second series was the one that solidified that impression in everybody’s hearts and minds. It was then, though, that we realized it wasn’t just a one-off; it was a hit.

The grand Blackpool Tower Ballroom was the venue for the final of series two. We travelled up by train, then the whole lot of us were shoved into the same dressing room (with men and women separated for modesty, naturally). Bruno, Len and I had never been mixed with the celebs before so it was really weird, as it was the first time that we’d got changed together. We were all in our pants looking for make-up and hairbrushes, which was quite amusing, but scary for us judges.

Then, as usual, we weren’t allowed to watch any of the rehearsals, so we were just stuck there. They have spies out in case we walk in on a routine. There’s always a runner looking for us to make sure we aren’t peeking, and everyone goes to great lengths to keep us from seeing anything too soon. Even in make-up, if the rehearsals come on the monitor in the room, they’ll turn our chair away so we can’t see. It makes us feel completely unwanted and unloved.

Backstage, the contestants are always rehearsing in the corridor, in a mad panic before they go on. We walk past and they suddenly stop dancing and move away, which is quite funny.

On that trip to Blackpool, we stayed in a hotel that was absolutely ghastly. It was really run-down and very ‘end of the pier’. You wouldn’t have put your dog in there. These days, when I’m on tour, I get to stay in decent hotels, but in the past, the accommodation has sometimes been far from perfect.

The Blackpool digs were dirty and poorly operated. Arlene even got bitten by bedbugs, which I found hilarious, but she was absolutely furious. She made us all look at her room and see if any of ours were any better. Naturally, they weren’t. Arlene’s always been the one to push for what she thinks we deserve. She’s brilliant, in fact – a driven woman with a very strong mind who knows exactly what she wants and won’t suffer fools lightly.

Needless to say, the hotel rooms have improved with the ratings.

At the final, Jill Halfpenny triumphed as the winner of season
two. She really impressed me. Jill is from my world, the theatre: an actress who can sing and dance, and she applies herself to everything she does. Just after she swept the board on
Strictly
, she went into a stint in the West End production of
Chicago
as Roxie Hart and was a revelation in that. Her versatility is her strength; she can cross over from
EastEnders
,
to Broadway and the West End, to ballroom dancing. Her jive will always live in my memory as something spectacular.

Series two marked the first time a contestant and I didn’t see eye to eye; it wouldn’t be the last.

By my own admission – and I hold my hands up here – I became personal in my comments to Julian Clary on Claudia Winkleman’s spin-off show from
Strictly Come Dancing
,
It Takes Two
, the week after the final aired
.
One of the joys of
Strictly
is going on Claudia’s programme; she makes me howl with laughter and she’s really into the whole thing. She’s sold on it, which I love.

On this occasion, I wasn’t laughing. Everyone thought I was drunk, but I wasn’t at all, I hadn’t had a single drink. I was just upset about the things that Julian had been saying about me.

He’d been having digs at me for a while on the main show. He referred to me as ‘the particularly ugly one on the end’ and, in the semi-final, when I said, ‘The jacket and the shoes did all the work for Julian,’ he barked back, ‘You’ve got too much foundation on.’

‘That won’t change the fact that that jive was terrible,’ I retorted.

In the final, live from Blackpool, he called me a ‘silly old queen’. I thought to myself, ‘Yes, I probably am a silly queen – but I’m not old!’

Julian was on Claudia’s show the following week. I was sitting at home, watching him on television. Claudia’s producers had asked me to do a phone-in interview. I knew it was going to be about Julian and how I was taking these personal jibes.

So, live on air, I told the nation that I wasn’t responding to
them very well at all and said, ‘Here are a few personal comments about Julian.’ Then I reeled off a whole list of things that I thought were hampering his dancing. I was like a lunatic, raving about his insecurities and his career. Claudia looked a little shocked, but, ever the professional, turned to her guest and asked, ‘Well, what do you think about that, Julian?’

He sat there patting Valerie, his dog, and then, with a very quick wit, replied, ‘Oh sorry, I wasn’t listening. What did he say?’

Julian is brilliant: in one fell swoop, he completely negated everything I’d said.

I wasn’t allowed to release my anger on the BBC1 show because I was told not to react if he called me names. He could say anything he liked about me, but I wasn’t allowed to say anything personal about him, unless it was to do with dancing.

On the phone-in, I thought, ‘Well, I’ll mention a few things about him now, while I have the chance,’ and it all came out. It was a complete rant.

I don’t know if Julian complained, but I was forced to make an apology about that interview. The BBC had thought I was inebriated. I was told sternly, ‘Craig, we heard about your phone-in on Julian Clary,’ and I was given some very sound advice. ‘You are not to get personal about any of the celebrities. Your job is to comment on the dancing and not their careers.’

I was firmly put in my place. I had to say sorry on Claudia’s show, although it was an informal retraction.

Unfortunately, backstage Julian and I hadn’t got on like the proverbial ‘house on fire’, as I’d been expecting. That even started to affect my relationship with Erin Boag, his dance partner, because she was, quite rightly, protective of him. I wanted to be able to say to him, ‘You’re not the world’s best dancer, but so what? Let’s have a drink and toast your courage.’ But the atmosphere wasn’t right for that.

I think all the contestants are brave and courageous for taking
part in the first place. In my opinion it doesn’t matter whether they get knocked out in the first, second or final show. They’re still achieving something for themselves and for charity.

One random evening, long after the series had finished and Jill Halfpenny had been crowned queen of the ballroom, I was with some mates in the Black Cap, which is a gay pub in Camden, when Julian and I bumped into each other. There was a drag act on at the time and she said, over the mike, ‘You won’t believe who is in tonight. Julian Clary and Craig Revel Horwood – sat at the same bar!’