So You Think You Can Dance Canada - Top 16

Tonight the Top 16 start down the road to the Top 14. What will the judges do then, when the number of couples left doesn’t evenly divide by 4? What am I talking about? I’m talking about the failure of these judges to judge (more ranting at the end of this recap). And yes, I am still mad at them for dumping Dario and Romina last week.

The show begins with the introduction of two new judges. Judges Luther Brown and Blake McGrath are doing choreo this week. Replacing them are my least favorite choreographer, Paul Becker, and legendary Hollywood choreographer Kenneth Ortega, a man with 3 Emmy’s on his mantle and a string of hit movies (Dirty Dancing, High School Musical) on his resume.

Jean Marc and Tre, evidently smarting from criticism of their choices last week, implore us to make their jobs easier by voting more because, “We love them all.” Their logic escapes me. No matter how few or how many votes are cast, 6 dancers will have to dance for their lives tomorrow night and the judges will have to send 1 male and 1 female home. So if the judges love them all, how is more voting by the audience going to make their task any easier? Am I missing something here?

Lara and Miles go first. They do Krump, to Tiny Ray Anthem, by Tha J-Squad, choreographed by someone new to us, Lil “C.”

The quotation marks are what the name banner uses, so don’t ask, Lil “Abner.”

Krump is a hyper-aggressive style of extreme hip-hop that knocks me out right from the rehearsal scenes. This is something that might work in the new version A Clockwork Orange I hear is in development. Drop Lil “Alex’s” love of Beethoven and the Singing in the Rain dance of death and go full out aggro with Krump.

Lara and Miles, who have been all sweetness and light to date, are amazing. The routine starts with Miles slowly rising from a prone position. Lara comes flying out of the shadows at the back of the stage, putting her acrobatic skills to their best use to date. She executes two complete flips at a full run and bang!, they are into a dance that reminds me of Godzilla tap dancing through Tokyo. Krump rules. The judges love it. Lil “C” is my hero, despite the stupid moniker. Jean Marc tells him he’s capital "C" now.

Kaitlyn and Izaak do a Cha-Cha that is unrecognizable as such, choreod by a choreographer I don’t think we’ve met before – Benji Schwimmer. Clearly Izaak and Benji have some history, based on Izaak squealing, "Benji!” when he first glimpses him in the rehearsal scenes.

The routine is a fast stepping affair. The judges unenthusiastically compliment the couple on showing somewhat more of a connection than they have demonstrated previously. Tre tellingly remarks that if Izaak could show the same enthusiasm for Kaitlyn that he showed in the rehearsal scenes for Benji, they would have a better chance of surviving in the competition. “Just imagine you are dancing with Benji,” she says.

I find her comments interesting. Earlier in the series I observed that the judges were favoring two things – hip hop in dance style and hetero in sexual orientation. Tre has just made the first open reference to what has been clear to all of us for 3 weeks now – that gay Izaak and straight Kaitlyn are being hurt by their lack of a sexual connection.

Nico and Aarrasay go next with a contemporary routine to Marc Broussard’s Let Me Leave as choreographed by Blake McGrath. Nico wears ripped jeans and a black tank top; Arrasay’s in a short, blue, one piece dress. Both are barefoot. The story is he’s trying to leave and she’s physically preventing him from going.

Wicked choreography: all possible props to Blake. Difficult as hell (close-in, aggressive, fast spins and lifts - Nico dislocated his nose during rehearsals) but mesmerizing and passionate. At one point she attacks him on the stairs and he has to carry her down to the dance floor as she squirms wildly – and he does it on time and with grace. Coming on top of the passionate, moving fallen angel routine they did last week, this performance makes them the only couple to rival Lisa and Vincent in technique and Myles and Lara in passion.

Ken tells Nico, “You’re the reason guys want to dance. Powerful, masculine, strong.” The comment clearly goes to the core of Nico’s art and his eyes fill with tears of wonder. It is a great thing that we are witnessing here – seeing an artist find his audience; seeing what it means to him to be understood. Jean Marc speaks of the two dancers having a conversation, and he is right.

And again a judge has referenced a dancer’s sexual orientation. Understand, I’m not complaining – I think that at this level a sexual connection between the partners adds an element that cannot be faked; something primal, beyond words. I guess I’m just surprised (and pleased) to see the judges being so open about such a touchy, easily misunderstood topic.

Lisa and Vincent do an African piece leavened with ballet and Broadway by choreographer Sean Chessman. Vince wears white pants and nothing else, Lisa is barefoot in a flowing white dress. The music is a haunting number by the Soweto Gospel Choir, a multi-octave harmony tour de force.

The routine is absolutely stunning. Last week’s Raggedy Ann and Andy fades from the mind – these two are more a force of nature than mere dancers. Bravo.

Even Tre’s attempt at painting a word picture of the dance can’t ruin it for us. “The lion and his tigress awake.” Boy, hope Mrs. Lion doesn’t find out Mr. Lion is running around with one of those slut tigers. Jean Marc entreats us to “Give it away,” for the pair.

Tamina and Joey do a Luther Brown choreod hip-hop number. Slight, fey Joey opines that his biggest challenge is going to be “getting down and getting funky.” Luther is more succinct: “He’s gotta be a tough guy.” The routine is aggressive, the two dressed in black, looking like they are out for a night of pulling B&Es more than hitting the clubs. Krump lite. And Luther has included a squeeze-your-boobs-together-for-the-folks-at-home move for Tamina. Thanks Luther – but does the audience for this show want their seven year old daughters learning boob squeezing?

Joey, in his soft wispy voice, tells the judges, “I’m ballin’.” Tre tells him he needs to lower his voice an octave or two if he wants to say “ballin’.” In complimenting Joey on his ability to act like the tough guy Luther wanted, guest judge Ken tells Joey, “We all come from different places.”

What the hell is going on here? Hetero on Parade?

Natalli and Francis do a Rhumba choreographed by Gustavo Vargas to The New 101 String Orchestra’s Perfidio. She is spectacular in a Gucci dress that isn’t so much slit to the hip as it is gathered there. This woman gets hotter every week. The sexiest dancer of them all, without question. Ballroomer Francis hits it out of the park, supporting his partner perfectly. But Francis – you look so sleazy and dated in the shirt department. Unbuttoned to the belly button makes you look like a joke – a parody of the French Canadian guys in the Hull discos, circa ’75. Will somebody in wardrobe help this man out? He dresses like a pervy uncle of mine after he’s had a few.

Becker tells the pair the dance, “made me hungry.” Tre pulls back and gives Paul an eyebrows up look, which he responds to by saying defensively, “Not sexually.” Is he telling us, "No, I'm gay. Really I am. I just missed supper is all."?

Okay, guys. That’s it. This – all the gay versus straight allusions - is planned, isn’t it?

Allie and Danny dance a Quickstep, choreographed by a man we haven’t met before, Pierre Allaire, a ringer for my 9th grade algebra teacher. See, Francis? Danny's dancing without his shirt unbuttonedand he isn't falling down. You can do it, Francis. We believe in you.

The music is The Boogie Bumper by a German group. The costumes are great but the dance is only fair. Too much circling, not enough ankle work, for my taste. But the judges are okay with it. Jean Marc again wants us to “Give it away,” for the performance.

Caroline and Jesse have Melissa Williams as their choreographer. She’s been consistently brilliant, giving us the best routines of the Top 20 and Top 18 episodes. But this week she got stuck with the Rock category. And, as Caroline tells the camera, “I don’t know what that means.” What the heck does Rock mean as a dance style? The Solid Gold Dancers?

Based on what we get here, to Melissa Rock, as a dance style, means a contemporary-jazz routine done to a rock song. Which, come to think of it, is what the Solid Gold Dancers do, isn’t it?
Jesse is in a suit and tie, Caroline wears a lipstick-red faux-latex one piece bathing suit with a plunging neckline that shows a good bit of boob. Whatever the material is, it is so thin and tight we can see the folds of her inner navel. And no, I am not exaggerating for effect. It’s an inny whose base has more flesh on the right than the left. Two flowing lengths of sheer pink gauzy material accent the outfit, kind of a cross between a scarf and a cape, one draped from her neck, one from her hip. Pink stiletto heeled strap-ons complete the wet dream of an outfit. It ain’t Gucci, like Natalli’s, but it is every bit as hot.

The judges are unanimous – Caroline overpowered Jesse. Ken tells Caroline, “There’s a choreographer, Robin Anton. She created the Pussycat Dolls. She should hear about you.” Yeah, Ken – it was definitely more burlesque than ballet. As Tyra would say, “Hoochie Mama.”

So that’s it save for the judges’ last words and a final desperate plea from Leah. For the umpteenth time in the show she reminds us, “It’s free if you use your own phone; so vote, Canada.”

As for the judges – they totally abdicate their responsibility. Four judges, eight couples. Do we get each judge’s honest pick for best or worst of the night? NO. Ken pimps for Lisa and Vincent and Arrasay and Nico; Paul for Joey and Tamina and Laura and Myles; Tre for Natalli and Francis and Jesse and Caroline; Jean Marc for Danny and Allie and Izaak and Kaitlyn. No one is left out. How idiotically Canadian. Come on, guys (and Tre) – do your job. Tell us who is best and why. You’re JUDGES, not cheerleaders. Risk offending someone. You owe it to your art, don’t you?