If all you can make is pizza, don't enter Hell's Kitchen. If all you can sing is "Unchained Melody," don't audition for American Idol.
And if all you can dance is the "street salsa," don't bother showing up for So You Think You Can Dance. (I think I ordered the Street Salsa at Taco Bell last night. Oh, SNAP.)
That's about what it came down to for Susie, the "spicy Latina" who never missed a chance to remind us all just how "spicy" and "Latina" she was. Her gimmick boiled down to a quivering ass and a come-hither, fifty-yard stare into the camera.
That is NOT the stuff of which dance careers are made.
Her solo dance was basically a low-rent Shakira impersonation; her couples dance this week was even the freaking salsa, and she couldn't pull it off. Sorry, Susie; it's back to Miami and your high school classroom. (Maybe it's just me, but does anyone else see a Letourneau situation in her future? She seems the type. Also, can I get sued for saying that? I hope not.)
On the other side of the gender aisle, we lost a strong dancer in Marquis, especially when compared to the untoasted slice of snooze-worthy white bread who stayed behind, Chris. This guy is Nyquil on two legs. Absolutely blends into the scenery, which is why I assumed he'd be going home; he's precisely the type of elimination fodder that you seed a show like SYTYCD with, so as to fill in the early weeks and stretch out a season. Otherwise, this show would have ten dancers instead of twenty, and it'd only kill 10,000 of my brain cells instead of 50,000.
But that was just the results. We also had a choreography-packed competition episode Wednesday night, and if two hours of dance doesn't just get you EXCITED IN A SPECIAL PLACE, I don't know what does. (Okay, maybe I do know. Hookers? Coke? Ceramic clowns? Am I getting warm?)
It's hard to pay attention to the dancing, though, when judge Mary Murphy is dressing up as a hooker from a late eighties Cinemax After Dark movie.
Or as my wife said, "It looks like a slutty cavewoman outfit you'd wear on Halloween. I mean, not that I'd wear it, but..."
When Mary wasn't doing her sexless Sheena the She-Devil impersonation (it's a comic book thing—look it up), the standout dances for me were:
Katee and Joshua's Broadway routine: It didn't hurt that I was actually IN Godspell in high school, and portrayed the Judas character, singing the fast bits of this exact song. (The parts that went, "Some men are born to live at ease, doing what they please, richer than the bees are in honey..." I can go on, but I won't. Judas is actually supposed to be a dual part, where the same actor plays John the Baptist ringing Jesus in and then Judas seeing Jesus out. How's that for theological irony? Our production needed more parts for strapping young boys so the role was split. I got to deliver the kiss of death. Explains a lot, I suppose.) Anyway, it had a real spice to it and was delivered with authority; I like Katee's command of her body, and I admire Joshua for breaking out of his B-boy shell and kicking it Broadway style.
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