To lose one dancer over allegations of abusive behaviour may be considered a misfortune. To lose two looks like carelessness. This weekend, the Strictly Come Dancing crisis deepened. Graziano Di Prima was fired following allegations that he mistreated his most recent dance partner, Love Island alumna Zara McDermott. Perhaps the BBC hoped we would all be too distracted by the Euro 2024 final to notice.
The 30-year-old is the second male professional in a few months to face misconduct accusations and depart the ballroom under a cloud. This has undoubtedly become the biggest scandal in Strictly history. Can the show weather the storm? Or is it the death knell for a formerly beloved franchise which is now irreparably tarnished?
Di Prima is reportedly accused of hitting, kicking and spitting at McDermott during training sessions. Video footage of one incident has apparently “reduced those who have seen it to tears”. A source in the Sun newspaper said that the corporation “had no choice” but to terminate his contract, despite previously announcing that he would be part of the new series. It’s as embarrassing as it is unsavoury.
In a statement released on Tuesday, McDermott confirms that she was involved in training room incidents that she now finds “incredibly distressing” to watch back, saying she “wrestled with the fear of opening up” about her experiences.
“I was scared about public backlash, I was scared about my future, I was scared of victim-shaming,” McDermott said, adding that she had “gained the strength to face these fears” and speak about her experiences to BBC managers. “I would like to thank the BBC for their swift action and incredibly high level of support,” she concluded.
The latest revelations come hot on the heels of the tawdry saga with fellow pro Giovanni Pernice, which came to a head just weeks ago. After “serious complaints” from his own dance partner for the 2023 series, actor Amanda Abbington, about his alleged “threatening and abusive behaviour”, Pernice found himself at the centre of an escalating crisis.
Abbington quit the contest, sought legal advice and requested BBC footage of training sessions. She described Pernice as “nasty”, saying she had suffered mild PTSD. Three of his previous partners came forward to back her up. Last month, after fevered speculation, the show finally confirmed that he wouldn’t appear in this year’s series.
Now comes the unceremonious sacking of Di Prima on similar grounds. It’s a double blow to the ballroom blockbuster. Strictly’s family-friendly image is key to its appeal. This autumn’s marks the contest’s landmark 20th anniversary, with spectacular surprises planned to celebrate two decades of dance. The current mess has somewhat blown out the candles on the birthday cake.
Di Prima isn’t much of a loss, hoofing-wise. He won viewers over after forming likable partnerships with comedian Judi Love and Coronation Street’s Kym Marsh, but before that, he had a reputation for glorifying himself during routines rather than showcasing his partner. His choreography is fairly forgettable. He has never reached a semi-final, let alone the final. Compared to former champion, four-time finalist and record points-scorer Pernice, he’s dispensable.
Much more concerning is what this fresh furore reveals about the culture of the show. Safeguarding evidently hasn’t been up to scratch. Concerns about Pernice go back eight years to his 2016 partner, Laura Whitmore. Producers had enough clues and should have taken far faster action.
Further questions now arise. How did the Di Prima complaint come seemingly out of nowhere, nine months after McDermott left the show? If there’s damning footage, why did it take so long to emerge? Surely the same exists for Pernice and Abbington?
In a statement confirming his exit, Di Prima wrote: “I deeply regret the events that led to my departure. My intense passion and determination to win might have affected my training regime.” A BBC spokesperson said: “While we would never comment on individual cases, it is well known that the BBC has established robust duty of care procedures. If issues are raised we will always take them seriously and act swiftly as appropriate.”
What the production cannot now do is be seen as trying to brush the investigation under the Elstree Studios carpet, so they can crack on with their big 20th celebrations. The Pernice row has already been rumbling on for nine months. HR processes need to speed up, be transparent and decisive. For a show so painstakingly diverse and inclusive, having allegedly abusive males in its ranks is a disaster. No wonder there have been rumours that producers were finding it tricky to sign up female talent for the next series.
The standard of dancing has vastly improved over the years. Rewatching Strictly from the early days reveals a rather more amateurish contest, full of plucky have-a-goers often being endearingly average. As ratings and skill levels rose, so have scores. Only one perfect 10 was awarded during the debut series. Last year, there were a whopping 69.
Higher quality hoofing takes serious work. More time is spent in rehearsal rooms, with celebrities often reporting 12-hour training days. There are extra demands on contestants, too. More pre-recorded segments to film, podcasts to appear on, group numbers to practise. The whole process is more intense. With tired, stressed people competing in high-pressure environments, it’s no surprise that conflicts spring up.
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Professional dancers are, by their nature, highly competitive perfectionists. In their quest to wow, they doubtless drive their celebrity charges hard. In the past, bad boy pros Brendan Cole and James Jordan were accused of being harsh on their partners. Yet neither was ever hit with a formal complaint.
Many, if not all, of the Strictly pros are tough taskmasters. Former athletes and those with prior dance experience seem to be able to handle it. Others clearly struggle. The recent outrages risk putting a dent in the glitter ball and dividing the cast. Some stars, past and present, have sided with Pernice and Di Prima, issuing statements of support or liking their social media posts. Concerns have even been raised about pros needing protection from celebs. How can they whip their partners into show-ready shape without worrying they’ll get in trouble for it? Will Craig Revel Horwood need to rein in his critiques in case he gets complaints, too?
Despite the turmoil and ongoing inquiries, we will probably never learn exactly what went on in Pernice and Di Prima’s dance studios. What we do know is that beneath all the Spandex and spray tans, Strictly is an intense, demanding process. Pros push their partners to nail technique and perform at high levels. When it turns toxic, though, enough is enough.
To help salvage the primetime hit’s reputation, there might need to be chaperones in the training rooms – not too much of a stretch, since camera crews visit several times a week anyway. The show should be prepared to accept a slight dip in choreographic quality. If limbs are less fatigued, nerves are less frayed and the atmosphere more relaxed, the ballroom will be a happier place.
Fans wouldn’t want Strictly to become a less closely fought competition. We still want the joy of watching novices discover a love of dance, improve and blossom. It just needs to happen in a nurturing, supportive context. Be a bit more Bake Off and a bit less X Factor.
Part of the BBC’s bid to restore equilibrium is the comeback of Aljaž Škorjanec, which was announced last week. The smiley Slovenian is much loved by viewers. He is married to fellow former pro Janette Manrara, now presenter of spin-off show It Takes Two. The couple had their first baby a year ago. Škorjanec is part of the Strictly family and an all-round wholesome presence. Persuading him to return after a two-year break was a canny move by producers to steady the ship.
They are now in the market for another male pro. Promoting cult figure “Ginger Neil” Jones from the ensemble to the main cast wouldn’t be a bad idea. He’s a safe pair of hands and an encouraging teacher. If producers would prefer new blood, they must make sure the new arrival has a gentle touch. They can’t risk another scandal or Strictly really will lose its sparkle.