Well, that was certainly unexpected. I don’t mean the results, exactly. I know I should be shocked that Chelsea was sent home, and grateful that Chris was finally sent packing, during last night’s So You Think You Can Dance results show. What’s unexpected, dear readers, is that I’m not. I can’t muster the outrage or the relief. The more I mull over the judges’ decisions — and mull is all any of us can do, since Nigel, apparently pressed for time, neglected to give any rationale for cutting Chelsea and Chris — the more the cold calculus of those decisions seems pretty plain, and the best I can do is shrug and mutter, ”Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” at the TV.
Before I get too ahead of myself, though, I should also point out there were several things about the results show that were all with the (relatively) surprising. The inverted dust ruffle along Cat’s neckline was a bit much, sure, but the outfit wasn’t that kooky at all, really, and I can’t even remember what Mary Murphy was wearing. Nigel, meanwhile, somehow pulled off a leather jacket. The guest dance performers didn’t suck. The guest musical performer actually sang. And all six solos were at the least solid showcases for their respective dancers’ core talents. Given the track record of the last two results shows, these are promising developments, indeed. (Even Cat’s and Mary’s sartorial restraint just makes the days they do break out the feathers, Bedazzler, and Hot Topic gift cards all that much more special.)
Of course, some things, thankfully, have remained reliably consistent. About halfway through the opening group dance number, I typed, ”I’m guessing this is Mia,” into my laptop, since only Ms. Michaels could’ve conjured up this black-and-white fever dream of Alice in Wonderland aristocratic angst and rejection. (Wade Robson probably could’ve done it too, but he would’ve added ”homages” to Moonwalker, ”Black or White,” and, inexplicably, ”Remember the Time” — oooo, I went there.) Again, Comfort enjoyed a sizable spotlight that very well could have kept her safe another week, and while Mark continued his season-long audition for the next Tim Burton movie (and I mean that as a compliment), I know that what will haunt my dreams once I’m done writing up this TV Watch will be the quick, non sequitur shot of Gev, in a crouch, tripping like a court jester who’s just shot pure meth into his eyeball. (Shudder.)
Cat, thankfully, gave us little time to dwell on that batch of bizarre, quickly lining up Thayne and Chelsea, Katee and Joshua, and Mark and Chelsie to get their results. (It would appear the producers are big fans of that old Sesame Street standby ”One of These Things Is Not Like the Others.”) After Thayne and Chelsea headed off to prep their solos, I realized I neglected yesterday to mention the fierceness of Katee’s new hair, and Chelsie did little to quell the rampant fan speculation that she views Mark at best like a tragically unhip big brother and at worst like a tragically disfigured runt cousin. Me, I just want to know why the two Mark and/or Cheslie supporters in the audience saw fit to don Grecian laurels.
NEXT: Nigel does impressions, too!