So You Thought You Could Dance, II

First things first: It's obvious that disparaging comments made by guest judge Alan Shankman last week were taken to heart by wardrobe for this week's show. Wardrobe clearly took out their frustrations on hostess Cat Dealy, who was dressed in a faux-faux "tuxedo" dress (I cannot stress enough how little this resembled any kind of tuxedo) and made me wish for the days she looked like a relief from a Grecian urn. (That's how ridiculous it was.)

The contestants danced two dances each this week -- not including any solos, of course, which are reserved for the end and for "bottom three" competitions -- ranging from the foxtrot to hip-hop.

I was expecting to love the lyrical hip-hop again this week, and I did, to a point -- but something in the choreography, done by newbies to SYD this week, and more importantly, something in the execution by Kourtni L. and Matt, wasn't getting to me. Sad. I really wanted to love it, but I just barely squeaked out a liking, in the end.

What I did love were the two routines choreographed by Mia Michaels this week.

A contemporary choreographer and (former?) dancer, Mia Michaels has been a judge on SYD since the beginning. She's everything you'd expect in a contemporary dance judge -- always talking about feelings and using that talk as a weapon. "I wasn't feeling it," she might say, coldly, to a couple she was critiquing. Or "I just don't think you were feeling it enough. It wasn't real for me."

Despite all these feeling words, Mia seems to really know her stuff, and when she says she's not "feeling it," contestants had better pay attention, because what she's really talking about is technique and audience connection. She loved Travis, and I loved Travis, though, so maybe I'm "feeling" that connection more than other audience members.

Mia choreographed the bench routine, which won her an award, danced by Heidi and Travis two years ago on SYD. She also choreographed what I thought was a routine too sappy to be respected, but too sappy to be critiqued, depicting her relationship with her father, when he died last year during the competition. Despite what I thought was a slip into treacle-level pathos, there, Mia deals best with loss and consequences in her choreography. The sense of absence in the bench routine was palpable.

This year, Mia's on her game.

Last night's first Mia routine was about "two people going through life selfishly" (though as with most contemporary routines, you wouldn't know to look at it). It's impossible to describe movement properly, and to attempt to do so, I'd have to go second by second with this one, so I'll just skip to the end: Joshua and Katee, who danced the routine, won me over in the first three seconds, and clinched it when in front of the "three" judges (Nigel, Mary, and Tabitha-and-Napoleon as uni-guest-judge), they stood solemn and still instead of goofing off as all other "safe for sure" contestants do.

Cat asked Joshua what he thought of the routine. He seemed full of emotion and struggled to find words. "It's so much more than dancing, with Mia" he said, and stopped. He was either the best actor ever, or he was so truly moved (and exhausted) by dancing this routine that he could hardly speak. I loved that.

The thing about dancing is the sincerity. You can't lie in dance.

Although if you can lie in dance, I think those dancers in the ballroom competitions come closest. Maybe that's why I'm never a fan of the SYD -- or any -- ballroom routines. (Well, a good waltz now and then never kills anyone, but foxtrot? I mean, is that ever really necessary?)

Mia's second routine, danced by Kherington (girl) and Twitch (guy), used a prop -- a bed, tilted toward the audience, around and on which all the action happened.

(No, not that kind of action -- pain, I told you, pain! Mia choreographs loss!)

The storyline here was more obvious than most, with Twitch waking up, fitful, to a memory of his relationship with ex-lover Kherrington. She popped up from behind the bed, a bit of malicious clown in an otherwise fraught-with-anxiety performance, and eluded Twitch's attempts to touch her...being, as she was, a memory.

(Let me take a moment to say that their wardrobe was excellently done, considering the routine: Twitch wore dark blue silk pajama bottoms, and Kherrington wore the pajama top, the sleeves perfectly too-long for her. Nice. [And let me add that the choice of a John Mayer song was regrettable, but at least it wasn't "Your Body Is a Wonderland."])

Mia choreographs like Diego Rivera paints. The movements are like large chunks of color, not appearing minutely detailed -- but the simplicity is an illusion. A lot goes into these routines, and they obviously take a lot out of the dancers. I'd like to see Mia's routines every week if I thought it wouldn't mean diminishing returns, and interminable moments of other-judges praising the routine instead of focusing on the execution.

I hear that Kourtni and Matt have been voted off this week, which is just as well. Next week I hope to go back to loving the contrast of lyrical hip-hop.

PS -- The hip-hop routine I loved last week was performed by Chelsea and Mark. Here's a probably-temporary, too-long, too-pixilated version of it.