The six things Strictly must do to survive

Long before Tess Daly and Claudia Winkleman announced that they were leaving Strictly Come Dancing last October, I’d been calling for a shake-up. Tess is too wooden, I said. The Couple’s Choice is wearyingly oversentimental. The music choices are repetitive. And why are there so many theme nights? I even claimed they should bin off Blackpool. But now I am forced to face reality. Tomorrow night, a new series begins, hosted by Emma Willis, Josh Widdicombe and Johannes Radebe, in a spruced-up studio, and they have to get it right. It isn’t just Strictly’s future that depends on it – it might be the BBC’s. How radical should all this change should be? Strictly must keep a connection with its past, but avoid defaulting into a bootleg of the Tess and Claudia years. It must honour its legacy without resting on its laurels. It must feel familiar, with voices and dancers and musicians we love, but have confidence in its new line-up and take gambles that will keep it fresh. It must trust its audience – and after years of scandal and bad press, earn their trust back in turn. I’m certain they can pull it off. But here’s a bit of guidance to help things along. And I was wrong, let’s not scare the horses – we definitely still need Blackpool… Don’t force the chemistry Tess and Claudia were British broadcasting’s most formidable double act. Two women in their fifties, the faces of the most influential programme on TV and the flagship brand on the BBC, who steered it through a string of scandals and PR crises, and still managed to reassure millions watching that it was a place of comfort, escape, and joy. But they didn’t actually share a ton of screen time, and their responsibilities were very different: Tess kept the show running slickly, Claudia offset the pressure of live TV and kept the tone human, silly and fun. Their power was rooted in proper friendship and support – because it was sincere, their united front held the show together amid untold turbulence. It will be tempting to write off the new presenting trio if they don’t immediately give us the same feeling, which, of course, they cannot – Tess and Claudia’s rapport had years to develop. It will be even harder for them, nervous and with the survival of the show resting upon them, not to force upon us the impression of how close they are and how much they love everybody, with lots of OTT banter and fawning affection, of which we’ll tire quickly. But chemistry builds naturally over time, and Strictly is about trusting the “journey” as the weeks pass and the relationships between the stars and their partners deepen. This year, the most important relationship will be the one between the presenters, who’ll need a bit of time to hit their stride. Trying to channel Tess and Claudia is a fool’s errand (Photo: BBC Studios) Play to Emma, Josh and Johannes’s strengths Speaking of the presenters, here’s what I want from them. Emma Willis is a force to be reckoned with, and I am certain that she’s the right fit for Strictly. Assuming she is in the “Tess” role – and she should be, she’s glamorous and commanding – I’d like to see a little bit more of her personality than Tess was willing to show and a bit more spark in the post-dance judges chit chat. Willis is a spiky interviewer when she wants to be, and while I’m hoping there will be no call for dressings-down of the type she used to do on Celebrity Big Brother, I’d like to see more insights than platitudes. Josh Widdicombe, a Strictly superfan, was a wild card for me, but he knows he is going to have to convince people. He won’t take his involvement lightly, and I’m hoping that he will be relaxed, bring a bit of edge and the right amount of knowing wit – something Strictly needs, because it takes itself far too seriously sometimes and could do with lightening up. Johannes Radebe, a fan favourite pro dancer on the show for the past eight years, is there to reassure viewers that this is all still the same happy family, but there is a risk that he’ll be a bit too nice and that we all feel short-changed not to have him competing. So, no gushing, Johannes, I want you take us into the reality of pro dancing, offer us perspective on how the dancers are feeling – and is one group dance a week too much to ask? Protect the celebrities from the scrutiny Every summer, the Strictly cast is torn apart as we complain it is swelling with influencers, reality TV stars, EastEnders and other assorted nobodies. I don’t know how we are still engaging in this annual flogging when anybody who watches Strictly knows the celebrities are probably the least important part of its infrastructure – perhaps we just need something to whinge about before the competition begins in earnest? – but this year, predictably, they’ve been branded the worst yet. I’m not convinced that just because a hairdresser is involved (Kim Kardashian’s, and also, many years ago, mine) this is worse than any other year – nor that we won’t end up loving most of them, like we always do. But I do fear that the high stakes and inevitable backlash that this series is going to be up against will take a greater toll on the stars and affect the show’s tone. Strictly requires good sportsmanship, the embracing of vulnerability, an enormous amount of goodwill and a lot of resilience (in the face of licence-fee payers and tabloids). It needs to be fun, camp, and transformative for the celebrities rather than over-competitive, or it’s a chore to watch, and worse, nobody famous will want to take part in the next series, thus dimming its prestige even further. If Strictly is to survive, we need the people involved this year not to be broken by the pressure. The Strictly stars of 2026 (Photo: Ray Burmiston/BBC) Don’t turn off new viewers Whenever someone I know watches Strictly for the first time, I say the same thing: yes, it’s 10 hours long, yes, it’s ridiculously earnest, yes, there’s an awful lot of gurning and silly props and emotions, but try to stick with it, because once you see past all the forced fun and filler, it’s really quite wonderful. A lot of long-time viewers claim the show got boring and that they’ve jumped ship along with Claudia and Tess (though I suspect they’ll be back once they realise they have to make plans on Saturday nights instead), so I imagine there will be a bit of an audience drop-off. But there will also be plenty of Strictly virgins who see this new start as a chance to get involved, so let’s not alienate them with overlong rehearsal VTs (mercifully less dominant last year), mawkish sob stories, and childish larking about with wigs and comedy glasses on, begging viewers to vote. What will convince people to watch – especially at the beginning, before we start caring about the contestants – are dances that make the heart sing. I want big, thrilling group numbers, bold song choices, and risk-taking choreography. And I want new varieties of dance – the US version has the Lindy hop, western swing, mambo, bolero, and more. Politicians pratting about and camp costumes have given us viral moments, but Strictly is about talent – the kind that already exists (yes, this show needs celebs with some dance experience to make sure the standard is high and the routines are not excruciating to watch), and the kind that it takes grit and time to discover. Make the judges the stars of the show The judges are the biggest characters on Strictly and I want as much screen time, bickering, hysteria and hammy costumes from them as possible. But they’ve been getting a bit soft with the scoring in the past few years. I want controversial numbers so I can disagree, shout at my TV, spout off all the rules I’ve learned about the rumba over the years, and feel very smug about the direction my life is going… Stop trying to make us cry We will anyway! I want it to earn my emotions, not wrench them out of me every four minutes. Strictly is about the perfect balance of heart and humour. Too much of either and it becomes a pantomime. The Strictly launch show is tomorrow at 7.25pm on BBC One