And in order to practice what I preach about spoilers, if you haven’t watched last night’s House and plan to, read no farther. (more…)

I haven’t actually watched any Dancing this week, what with all the Important Posting and linky goodness therefrom and some real-life stuff to take care of. But that doesn’t stop me from knowing who lost, as some news stories see fit to put it right in the headline that Cameron was the one to go, even though they didn’t think it was important enough that the universally acknowledged front-runner got kicked to put that in any headlines I saw a couple weeks ago.

Ah well. I’ll get caught up tonight. Adios, Cameron, you were sexy and entertaining.

Update: Dancing QuickNotes!

Jennie & Derek, jive: Sorry, Jennie, they judges were right. Needs more snap, more precision, and fewer errors and wobbles.

Cameron & Edyta, Viennese waltz: Right on. I have to say that was the best Viennese waltz of any couple yet, and what a shame it did not earn him a spot for next week. Those three-steps are not easy, and he hit every single one.

Marie & Jonathan, rhumba: I’m a little out with the judges here, I thought it was a very good rhumba for her age and aplomb–and, her little jokes about “That’s not gonna happen” just made it that much better when she did bring enough passion into it to show on her face. Poor Donny looks like he’s aged three years in the last week.

Helio & Julianne, paso; Mel & Maks, tango: Good.

Round 2

Jennie & Derek, foxtrot: Muuuuch better than the jive.

Cameron & Edyta, cha-cha-cha: I thought it was better than the judges did. Oh well.

Marie & Jonathan, jive: Well, for a change, I agreed with all three judges: Not enough jive step (Bruno & Carrie Ann) but still way fun and cute (Len). And obviously enough to keep her going with the audience. Next week’ll be ugly, though: It’s got to be either Marie or Jennie going home.

Helio & Julianne, quickstep: Wow. Did he just drop her, though? Apparently part of the script … wow.

Mel and Maks, mambo: Even more wow. Carrie Ann, only a nine? Come on.

Well, no, I can’t, not really. Late, lamented show of mine, whither your tightly paced plots and even tighter dialogue? Your stars lost to Heroes and Moonlight and Private Practice, your writer and creator lost to … Big Shots, at least for a couple episodes, which almost makes me want to watch … almost.

But I can have this: Twelve minutes or so of what would have been the S4 pilot, with Veronica working at the FBI–school’s out, and not just for the summer. I guess this was the last-ditch effort to shake up the format enough to appeal to the execs. Alas, alas that it did not succeed. I’m not so sure about it in the long term, myself–skipped right over the rest of her college years to join what would almost certainly have been a shaky representation of the Bureau in the realism department? I don’t know. But this is right up to usual VM standards. Sigh.

Where did this come from? Who let him/her put it on the web? I don’t suppose it can do any harm, but neither do I suppose we’ll get a Mars movie out of it. Still, as ten minutes of nostalgia … it works for me.

(Via Whedonesque.org.)

I saw Kristen Bell shoot a little lightning from her fingerips. That’s all I was good for. I’m done with Heroes. It’s just such a bad show in almost every possible way and definitive proof that decent, good, and even terrific cast cannot save putrid writing–in plot, dialogue, and even concept, putrid.

Of House. I wouldn’t usually bother to review a single episode of anything, but this is so egregious I can’t let it pass. When it’s obvious that in addition to a farcical plot with no redeeming humor value, the writer in question, apparently Thomas L. Moran, is writing all the roles so completely out of character and on the nose that it’s like he’s never even seen an episode, it warrants comment. House is satirical, not blatant. He’s sarcastic, not infantile. He’s blunt, not obvious. And don’t get me started on the supporting characters.

Since this must be a fluke, as it’s the first episode even remotely close to bad in a four-season run, I’ll skip the joke about how maybe it’s a good thing the WGA is on strike. This episode would be enough to put me off if it weren’t House.

Update: NOOOOOOOOOO. This show needs Michael Michele like it needs a hole in the head. Too much shake-up too fast, and we don’t need a competing face and name. Hugh Laurie is the show here. She jars. I hope it’s temporary.

Sorry, LeAnn Rimes. The thrill is gone and everybody is going to have to suck up some sour pills. You seem like you’ve been taking lessons from Reba McEntire–not a good thing in your case. And if you’re going to slow it down and sing only with an acoustic guitar, you kind of have to not walk all over the guitar–it’s got a complex set of twisty notes going, and so does your voice, and they are fighting each other. Second verse you’re not fighting the guitar any more, but mostly because it surrendered. Net effect: Sounds better, but now you sound like you’ve been taking vowel lessons from Garth Brooks. Not a good thing in anybody’s case.

Julianne and Tony: Pretty rhumba, but you don’t look like you’ve danced together enough. There are several stilted moments and near-misses.

Safe: Marie and Jonathan, Cameron and Edyta. If Cameron is safe AND the world is back on track, Jane is going home tonight.

The Rock Steady Crew: In three words, not my thing.

LeAnn’s back. If our pros aren’t dancing, I’m not watching. Lucky for Rimes, here comes my Cheryl.

Down in the bottom-screen election ticker, Oregon Measure 49 is passing. That just makes me even pissier. Common sense seems to be prevailing on Measure 50, however. Write a specific product tax into the Constitution because you don’t have the legally required super-majority to pass it in the legislature? No thanks, morons.

Hey, turns out Sabrina and Mark apparently are dating. Good for them.

Safe: Mel and Maks. Yeah, baby. No bottom two? Oh, just get on with it.

Safe: Helio and Julianne. How is leaving two couples, one of whom is actually going home, that much different from the bottom two? So one of them is going home and one may or may not be in the bottom two. Why muddle it? What wasn’t working about the bottom-two format?

Going home: Jane and Tony. I had a qualm there, like maybe I should have broken my sourpuss protest and voted for Jennie. We’ll see next week.

Marie Osmond’s father has died, age 90.

Condolences to the entire Osmond family.

Between the death of Jane Seymour’s mother, Jane’s food poisoning, Marie’s faint, and now this, it is a season of strange coincidences.

Sabrina’s gone.

Marie’s lost weight and looks good in the military thing.

Helio’s a lightweight at the tango–he literally does not weigh enough to put any bulk into it.

My heart’s not in this, but we’ll see if there’s anything interesting.

Len rips Helio’s tango to shreds. Bruno gives qualified agreement. Carrie Ann runs counter … boo. Puh-leaze, Tom Bergeron, if you think I’m actually going to bother to vote at all this season after that mess last week, you’ve gone mad. Scores: Nine-eight-eight. Eight for a dance with such egregious footwork mistakes as Len described?

Yes, Samantha, I feel quite bad enough that I didn’t vote for poor Sabrina. But it won’t make me vote for anybody else. As protest I’m sitting it out. The winner has already gone home.

Say, didn’t Marie get divorced? Yes. After eight kids. I think I’d be tempted to take out a hit on the guy.

Quickstep to “Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy,” one of my all-time favorites. Not Marie’s best, alas. She’s quite literally not quick enough. They’re gonna get her.

Gee, thanks, Donny. She already fell down once on national TV. Don’t do her any more favors.

Bruno loved it. Piffle. Carrie Ann loved it. Maybe I’m just grinchy. Len loved it. Whatever. Scores: Ten-nine-nine.

Mel and Maks, foxtrot. Eah. Nothing’s cool tonight. Carrie Ann: Out of synch. Yup. Len: Footwork out. Yup. Bruno: Footwork needed finesse. It’s unanimous. Scores: Eight-eight-eight. Right on.

Jane and Tony: I’m just tired. And grumpy. I want Jane to go home. I’m so angry she’s still here when Sabrina’s gone that for the first time I wish we were voting people OFF instead of up. Quickstep to “Walk the Line.” I’m pretty sure this song sounded a lot pissier when Cash sang it. Now that he’s passed, it just sounds whipped. Len says: Lack of body contact and occasionally poor footwork. Bruno says: Dress through a shredder distracting. Right on. Common theme tonight: No attention to detail. True. BECAUSE SABRINA’S GONE. She was the only on who was ever spot-on, and all of Tom’s raving about “strongest season ever” does not change that fact. Carrie Ann: Says technique is fine. Piffle. Lack of excitement. True. She says anyone could take the title–also true. BECAUSE SABRINA’S GONE. You remaining contenders better appreciate what the crazies at home did for you last week. Scores: Eight-eight-eight.

Jennie and Derek, Viennese waltz: This ought to be her dance. Hmm. I think if it were ordinary waltz, it would be, but the super-fast three-count step is tripping her up. Gorgeous arms, but … Bruno: Fluid, absolutely great. Hmm. Carrie Ann: Back two steps, broken lines. Len: Lovely lilt, not enough Viennese waltz in hold. He’s right. SHUT UP BRUNO. It wouldn’t be a week on this blog if I didn’t have to type that, I guess. Scores: Eight-eight-nine.

Cameron and Edyta, quickstep. Uhoh. No, dear boy, this is not Footloose. Oh, hey, he can quickstep. What do you know. He looks better than Marie or Jane did–until that. That was egregious–she kicked when he stepped and then he kicked when she stepped. Very bad. Watch out for shredders, Cameron. Carrie Ann: A little wild. Len: Calm down. Didn’t like … any of it, except when in hold. He’s right. Bruno: Blah blah. Do any of us really care about this any more, or is it just me? Scores: Eight-eight-eight. Okay, this is ridiculous. This entire competition is now flatlined–quite literally flatlined in the sameness of all the scores. BECAUSE SABRINA’S GONE.

Helio and Julianne, samba. Ugly hip roll. And that apparently took everything he had in his hips right out of them. Stiff for the rest of it. Honestly, Julianne, that’s the ugliest samba I’ve ever seen, your part, and especially your costume, included. Sorry. Bruno loved it of course. Carrie Ann: Agrees with Bruno. Piffle. Len: Brazil, samba, Texas, president … excuse me, Brit? Didn’t you mean “Just because you come from Texas doesn’t mean you can TWO-STEP” ?? I’m pretty friggin’ certain that’s what you should’ve said. The only place in my life where I prefer there to be absolutely no politics: television. And a dance show, no less. Gee thanks, Len. Scores: Nine-nine-nine. This is becoming a bad joke–all of it, not just the one Len told.

Marie and Jonathan, cha-cha-cha. Okay, she’s rocking that a bit. But is there any excuse for botching the hand-grabs at this stage in the game? No there is not. Okay, is there any cha-cha at all in this dance or is it all posturing? It reminds me of watching Katerina Witt skate post-Carmen. She might as well have been stripping on ice. Carrie Ann: Toned perfectly, but wasn’t quite enough content. No kidding. Len: Agree, too much messing about. Bruno: same. Scores: Eight-eight-eight. I’m shocked.

Mel and Maks, paso. Guys, Halloween’s over. Len: Speechless. Bruno: I don’t care about his opinions any more. Carrie Ann: Kicked booty. Okay. Scores: Ten-ten-ten. She could go all the way.

Jane and Tony, cha-cha-cha. This should be painful. She just doesn’t have these moves. Goodbye, Jane, unless the Dr. Quinn voters continue to skew it. I have to give props to Tony for choreography that had a lot of steps and yet did its best to minimize her lack of movement. Bruno: Wah-wah-wah-wah-waaaaah. Carrie Ann: Agreed, did well. Len: Insults viewers again by assuming the ignorant Americans don’t know about Guy Fawkes Night. Bite me, Len. You were always my favorite, but the souring of the season has soured everything, it seems. He liked the content but lacks fireworks. Yah. Scores:

Wait, hold up: October Road was not cancelled? There really is no justice.

Scores: Eight-nine-nine.

Jennie and Derek, rhumba. I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe unjustified. They’re starting well. Derek shines at this … but Jennie’s a little sedate in the non-stepping parts. Her steps are right on, though. Could go either way with the judges, but I’m liking it. For a change. Beautiful. Carrie Ann: Redemption. Yep. Len: Fantastic dancer. She’s getting there. Bruno: So well paced. Yes. Best dance you’ve done. Also yes. Samantha’s annoying! SarahK, Drew is way way better! Throwdown! Scores: Nine-nine-ten. Bruno, you’ve recovered yourself in my eyes. Len, you’re still in my doghouse.

Cameron and Edyta, jive. Hmm. His steps were right on, but damn, it was so slow, for a jive, that he’d have to be so bad for his steps not to be on. Will the judges compliment his steps or rip Edyta for the slow speed? Len: Fantastic. Good. Bruno: More kicks than a rodeo. Yeah, a lot of kicks, but they were all sharp. Right on it. Carrie Ann: Really fine dancer, as opposed to good-looking guy who can move. Edyta looks like she’s been handed a gift. Yay! Scores: Nine-nine-nine.

I’m depressed, and that’s not how the happy dance show should leave me. I think this is the last week of dance blogging. It makes me feel like the blog is a lightweight … more than usual.

Sigh.

Update: H/t A. Weasel for the Newsbusters link/vid/commentary. Eah. I’m not exercised quite to the point of “Go home,” like Scarborough. Just irritated that he plunked it into my already depressing dance show.

Barry Manilow is OUT OF TUNE and over the hill. And that’s all I have to say about that. Out of tune.

Cheryl and Louis were firecrackers, however.

Jane and Tony are safe. I am so wrong. And worried. I fear Marie is on the block, and perhaps Jennie or Cameron.

Dance War: Bruno vs. Carrie Ann. Eah. Not my format. I don’t like the American Idol-style audition process. Which would be why I watch this instead of that.

Crafty, show. Usually the musical guest gets one number with dancers, one number by themselves. I can’t fast-forward Mr. OUT OF TUNE because he’s got two dance numbers and I watch for the dancing. Crafty, you evil show. And what exactly were those hitches in the piano music that was supposedly live? They sounded like digital hiccups.

Bottom two: Cameron and Edyta, Sabrina and Mark. I’m stunned. So is Len. Moron voters.

Out: I cannot believe that just happened. Sabrina was hands-down the best dancer on the show. The implications are bad: Her lack of name recognition could only have been a detriment among older viewer/voters, where the names Seymour and Osmond resonate. Which just makes the fickleness and lack of taste among the voters that much more shameful. Wake up, people. Vote for the talent.

I am dispirited enough to stop watching, almost. We’ll see. Who’s left? Helio? Please. He’s okay, but he’s like that soap-opera chick from the first season–the best they had at the time. This will be a dull finish to a solid, though not as amazing as Tom tries to make it out every week, season. The flash was in the last two seasons, with three or four amazing couples duking it out at the end. I don’t watch to see four mediocres going at it. This is just sad.

Goodbye, Sabrina, you will be sorely missed. May this translate into exposure and work for you.

… but oops. There’s just too much fun here not to blog it. Dancing with the Stars, baby, bottomless blogger well. Besides, Gib likes it.

Sabrina and Mark, foxtrot. That foxtrot rocked. The foxtrot is sort of boring in general, and while I can understand that this one didn’t stoke the traditionalist fire, a la Len and Bruno and their eights, Carrie Ann gave it what it was worth. They were spot-on. I still say they have a little thing for each other.

Jennie and Derek, mambo. Now that’s what I’m talking about. Mambo is your dance, girl. The judges might say they have a little too few actual mambo steps, but the dance is full of fun and life. Judges say: Steam heat, says Bruno. Right on. Carrie Ann recognizes it too: Great time. Len: “Exceptional performance.” Nice.

Oh. God. Barry Manilow tomorrow night? Count me out of that. TiVo fast-forward, here I come.

Geez. Does anybody know how many calories in a bottle of wine? It’s getting bad around here, let me tell you. Trip-nines for Jennie and Derek!

Jane and Tony, jive. Jive. Jive. Doctor Quinn doing the jive. I have such a bad feeling about this. Oh, baby, navy swabs standing to attention for Jane Seymour. You better feel that, girl. Ouch–that’s not really jive music. They’re doing their game best, however. She’s got the steps but not the flair. As the dance goes on she gets downright clunky, alas. I hope Bruno is not still blinded by the elegance. Judges say: Carrie Ann likes the vibrance but knows that it wasn’t Jane’s dance. Len: It’s not you. Right. Bruno: Class act, but … not your most comfortable. Right on. Eight-seven-seven. Oh dear. Who Goes Home? (Hugo’s Home.) Ten-point bonus to anybody getting that reference without looking it up, SeeDub.

Cameron and Edyta, … these outfits scare me. Conan the Sambarian? Oh. My. Gosh. Look at that little Brazilian girl. She is the bomb. … Okay, this is sweet. This is his dance. He’s got it, baby. This guy is going to be hard to oust, as eventually he must be ousted, but it’ll be a hot ride till he’s finished. Judges say: Len is disturbed. No spirit of samba. Bruno: Captain Smith and Pocahontas … I don’t know why they can’t see past the costumes if I can. A-ha, Carrie Ann says “real passion, I got it, I loved it.” That’s my girl. Nine-eight-eight.

A little secret: I love Tom Bergeron. I’ve loved him since the new incarnation of America’s Funniest Home Videos. He is sweet, realistic, supportive, a little naughty, and down to earth. He is a consummate host and seems like a wonderful guy. I’m totally on the outs with SarahK over Samantha Harris vs. Drew Lachey–it’s totally great she had a baby, but I’d have loved it if Drew’d stuck around a few weeks more. However, Samantha finally, finally seems to be settling into her job and is more than a bobbleheaded mouthpiece. Maybe having a baby has made her cut to the chase. You’re worlds better, Samatha, keep it up.

Mel B. and Maks, rhumba. Oh boy, this oughtta be good. A second secret: Maks is friggin’ gorgeous. He is a bit too much of a pretty boy for my usual taste, but there is something smoking about him that I just cannot resist. Keep it up, boy. The dance:Holy smoke. The rhumba has always been his dance, and now it turns out it’s hers too. Wow. Synergy is an incredible thing: Last week it was nobody’s dance, this week it’s everybody’s. Judges say: Bruno, “Right in the fine line between love and hate.” Uh, no. All love, dude. “Excellent.” Yah. Carrie Ann: Mesmerised. No doubt. Len: Loved it. Woot! Ten-ten-ten. Wow.

This is the best episode of the season thus far.

They’re going to show the faint again. Slump, slump, crash. Poor Marie.

Marie and Jonathan, paso doble: Ooh, she’s gorgeous in rehearsal. This could be, yet again, her dance. Hmm. She looks a bit animatronic, but I don’t really know that in the paso that’s a disadvantage. Very traditional. Ooh, slick line from Tom, who must be of an age with Marie: “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever seen an Osmond not smile.” Judges say: Carrie Ann uncomfortable with Marie literally on the floor while Jonathan danced around her–too much faint taint. Played just a hair safe. Len: Pause. But back on with it again, dramatic. Bruno: Catherine Zeta Cranky. Ouch. Eight-eight-seven. Ouch.

Helio and Julianne, cha-cha-cha: Cha-cha is typically a man’s best friend. Here we go … Disco cha-cha-cha? Um. Well, they’ve got the moves. I’ve got to give props to the judges for even being able to look at Helio with Julianne out there. She is positively incandescent. Judges say: Len says comeback. Fantastic. Bruno: rebranded and regenerated, back in the race. Carrie Ann concurs. Nine-ten-nine. Wow. Bit much. I think Len was watching Julianne.

Group routine: These are usually a train wreck. Okay, not so much this time. Everybody’s got some moves, especially Cameron and Edyta with that lift and Marie and Jonathan with that jitterbug. Ugly ending. “Excuse me, let me hang between your legs and look up at your bum.” No, I don’t think so.

Prediction time. Bottom two: Jane Seymour and, stab to my heart, Marie Osmond. Going home: Jane Seymour. This is pain time. Somebody actually good has got to go.

Damn. I’m. Good.

Jane Seymour in the bottom two.

And Mark Cuban … outta there. Finally.

And after all his blowhard bluster about “If I can’t out-talent ’em I’m gonna outwork ’em” and he’ll do whatever it takes and he’s got to improve the technique and he will, his words to Kym on hearing they were finished? “Thank God it’s over, thank God.”

Dude, I can understand you feeling that way. You were so outclassed from the very beginning that it hasn’t even been funny. But don’t you realize how stupid you make yourself look on top of it all when you let us see you say that after all the manic bullshit? “I wouldn’t have traded it for the world,” he said then on mike.

Don’t let the door hit you.

Live-blogging Dancing with the Stars for the second week in a row. Procrastinating work. Yeehaw.

Marie and Jonathan, samba: Sorry, Marie, not your dance. Unless you can do those samba rolls about 3x as fast, no 10s for you. Jonathan choreographed that as if you were a doll that he might break if he played too hard, and unfortunately that’s exactly what you looked like. Judges say:

Oh my God, Marie collapsed. … Okay, she’s better, it appears. A fainting spell that’s happened to her before. No more sambas. You really were a breakable doll, poor thing. Trip-sevens on top of fainting on live TV. Not your week, dear lady.

The lift again. For pete’s sake somebody clarify the rules.

Jane and Tony, rhumba: Ouch. Hip action not Dr. Quinn’s strong point. I’ve got a feeling this is the least talented group of Latin dancers in three seasons, at least. Judges say: Oh, please, Bruno, she resembled Edyta no more than Celine Dion resembles Britney Spears. Well, judges ought to know but I thought it needed a lot more movement. Nines? Good grief.

Mark and Kym, samba: This ought to be bad, so bad it’s good. A lot of galloping from Mark here. No samba rolls. He thinks, probably truly, that the judges’ scores will be irrelevant because he will in the bottom two from now on and the only thing that will keep him on will be the voters. Let’s hope the field is now slim enough that the voters have no real power to beat the voters for the real dancers. Judges: Entertaining, no technique. Well, duh. Nice to hear them say it. Florence Henderson looks shocked that Tom Bergeron mentioned Heather Mills’s false leg on the air; clearly she didn’t watch last season. Sheesh. Even trip-sevens are too high. That demeans Marie.

Sabrina and Mark, rhumba: Hmm. A bit snappy for a rhumba, too many spins. The music puts you in mind of somebody a lot older than Sabrina–not good. Judges: BRUNO SHUT UP. Does he honestly believe opinion is objective and monolithic? Let Len have his own. Nines and ten.

Jennie and Derek, samba: She is right on the edge of being rock-solid but still appears too unsure of herself to really let loose, which is what the samba takes. Judges: Bruno’s right on–she was falterish. Carrie-Ann right on–she’s gotta mean it. Len’s been taking some happy pills this season, or he just thinks Jennie’s hot. Or both. Eight-nine-eight. On the other hand, I am warning to Derek. He was trying too hard early on but is relaxing into it now, I think.

Helio and Julianne, rhumba: Damn, nice car. Sorry, back to the dance. People, all people, please stop dancing without music. Wait till it starts. Well, he quit smiling so much, but still, it’s not quite his dance either. Bad night for Latin, it seems. Even some of the pros seem off their game, and I don’t like Julianne’s choreography here. Helio’s just … stiff. Judges: Carrie-Ann, no chemistry and awkward lines. Len agrees: mechanical. Bruno agrees, shock of shocks. Eight-seven-eight.

Mel B and Maks: Started well, but somehow the actual steps seem to be eluding everybody who tries the samba. Feet are kind of cloddish. Very bad choreography mistake to leave her sitting on the floor in the splits for that long, especially in such a fast dance. Judges: Len loves it. Bruno loves it. Carrie-Ann agrees, best samba of the night. Maybe I’m cranky. Or maybe I just prefer steps to be right on the beat, with snap. Take some snap from Sabrina’s rhumba and put it in. Ten-nine-ten. Eah, I just don’t see it, but I guess that makes her Sabrina’s primary competition.

Cameron and Edyta, rhumba: Okay, Susan Lucci giving Edyta tips? Come on. Wow. By George, I think he’s got it. He seems to be letting completely loose, although it’s only fair to say the burden of rhumba choreography really falls on the woman. Still there are certain elements the guy must bring to it, and Cameron’s got ten times more fluidity and heat than Helio had–all the other men did the samba. Bruno loved it with his usual over-the-top sound bytes. Carrie-Ann: Chemistry good, lift fanatic wins again. Len: Cameron good, Edyta on his nerves. Guess the happy pills aren’t all-encompassing. I’d say Cameron’s the steadiest of the night. Eight (darn you Carrie-Lift-Ann)-nine-nine.

Prediction for bottom two: Mark Cuban and … Jane Seymour? It’s got to be somebody. Mark Cuban will you PLEASE GO NOW.

From episode “Kindred,” from a Mexican police officer to a girl who says she’s going to America: “Why don’t you leave before I call the border police?”

As if Mexico has any freakin’ northern border police.

Yeah, I’m still slogging through to get to La Bell. I hardly think it’ll be worth it at this point.