The votes are in, the fates decided. It was an up and down night for the So You Think You Can Dance season four finale. The top two men and women battled through some of the best choreography (Mia Michaels’ closing Scottish warriors number) and suffered through some of the worst (Tyce Diorio’s Disneyfied Broadway). They delivered some of their most inspired performances (Katee and Joshua in Wade Robson’s tender duet) and some of their most haggard (Courtney and Joshua in the jive).
I’ll come out and say it: on artistic and technical merit alone, Katee deserves to win. But then, as Nigel reminded us without shame mid-show, So You Think You Can Dance is not about finding the best dancer. Rather, the judges seemed to be angling for novelty, and for inspirational storylines. How many times were we told that it was good to have two hip-hoppers in the top four? And how many times did Nigel marvel at the accomplishments of two “untrained” dancers?
The persistence of the “untrained” angle especially flummoxed me. Joshua’s interview with Cat featured photos of him taking ballet barre as a little boy. Clearly the guy has had classes from a young age, and clearly he’s not trying to hide it. Whether he was able to get enough classes to qualify as “training,” I don’t know, but it would behoove the show to be more transparent about this. I don’t object to personal backstory—this is television—and if any storyline is worthy of the airtime, it’s the triumph of hard work over economic disadvantage. I only object to feeling flagrantly manipulated.
But that’s the fault of the producers, not hardworking Twitch, Katee, Joshua, and Courtney. After all the product placements are said and done, they are no doubt an inspiration to would-be young dancers across the country, and they’ve been a pleasure to watch all season. So may the “favorite” dancer win—and if she happens to also be the best, what a bonus!
The rundown:
-- Twitch and Courtney in hip hop. Choreography, 5. Performance, 7.
The absence of hip hop choreographer Shane Sparks was felt keenly in this finale. Tabitha and Napoleon D'Umo have contributed some great numbers this season, my favorites being Mark and Comfort’s back-to-school showdown, and Mark and Chelsie’s workaholic love story, but too much of the show’s weight has been on Tabitha and Napoleon’s shoulders this year, and for this final episode, their less street-authentic, more narrative-driven choreography doesn’t deliver. Another “deranged girlfriend” routine, as Nigel puts it, only this time Courtney doesn’t throw herself at Twitch so much as deliver a good beating. That’s girl power, I guess. Twitch dances it with controlled, hard-hitting style while Courtney attacks it with her bouncier energy, but her lack of theatrical inhibition is so compelling I can hardly fault her. The choreography gets dead towards the end, and Twitch and Courtney’s energy lowers, too. Spinning her on the top of Twitch’s head doesn’t really work. I love how Nigel concedes the piece lost energy in one breath and then pronounces it “absolutely perfect” the next.
--Katee and Joshua in contemporary. Choreography, 9. Performance, 10.
The camerawork finally slows to one sustained, still shot—the better to appreciate the integrity of Wade Robson’s choreography. All season I have longed to see Katee slow down and show a more subtle side, and in this duet she gets a worthy vehicle. From her opening breaths, as Mandy Moore notes, Katee is authentically immersed. Like Mandy, I too, love the moment of Katee and Joshua kneeling side by side with their heads planted on the ground, and I love the broken pauses to the twangy guitar, delivered by both Katee and Joshua with precise musicality. Moore is an evenhanded, dancers’ judge, noting she “could have used more through the legs and feet from both of you,” while Nigel gives a wooden, obviously rehearsed plug for Wade’s latest project. Joshua beams with white teeth freshly liberated from those silver braces. Training, no training, I don’t care—he beautifully tempers his velocity through his turns with his “uncontrolled control,” as Nigel deems it.
--Katee and Courtney in Broadway. Choreography, 4. Performance, 6.
Tyce Diorio’s “Trolley Song” dance that sent Katee and Courtney running about the stage like little lost lambs is not a number I need to see again, but it did provide a fascinating study in contrast. Courtney, I really would like to see on Broadway—she’s the natural actress. Just look at the total lack of self-consciousness in her face when she and Katee stand side by side and point and gasp—she’s one hundred percent, where Katee’s more demure smile says “I’m a little too dignified for this, but I’m going along with it.” Katee is the better technician, though, who “finishes every move just a little farther than you” as Nigel tells Courtney. Cat tries to make both gals feel better by complimenting the Little Bo Peep outfits. Mandy, fittingly, has little to say beyond, “cute.”
--Joshua and Twitch in Russian trepak. Choreography, 3. Performance, 2.
This Russian trepak is painful to anyone who’s seen a decent ballet company’s Nutcracker. Joshua takes all the big jumps—but look at how much preparation time he has to take between them while the cameramen is busy trying to distract us—and he takes on grandes
pirouettes with a sickled retiré foot. Twitch shows off nimble knees by claiming all the crouching floor moves. It’s hard work, no doubt—there’s a reason ballet dancers have to spend a lifetime training—but the energy dies between the tricks, while Twitch and Joshua’s character-style arms are an embarrassment. Nice try, guys. Please don’t make me watch this again on the live tour.
--Twitch and Katee in a foxtrot. Choreography, 9. Performance, 8.
This was one of my favorite performances of the evening. Wonderfully musical choreography set to a surprising song choice. Though the romance feels external to the music and the message, I’m happy to ride along with it on Katee’s floor-skimming feet. She is ravishing, so sustained and continual, her arms so softly riding the air—and Twitch is a gentleman of a partner. I love the seamless rise up onto his shoulder, the effortless press into the lift, the perfectly held lines of her legs scissoring together and then wrapping around. I thought I saw a tiny bobble on the finish, but only a tiny one. I agree with Nigel that Twitch relaxed into character about halfway through, but credit to both of them. Again, Nigel compliments a man for being “macho”—which is never a quality I thought would be prized in a foxtrot. To me, Twitch was not at all macho in this—which is what made it work.
--Courtney and Joshua in a jive. Choreography, 10. Performance, 6.
Courtney and Joshua are just too dog tired to pull off this jive—and yet, how I enjoyed it! Jason Gilkison’s everything-but-the-kitchen-sink choreography is such a blast, and Courtney’s vampy costume is so fun, I’m happy to power with her and Joshua through the tricks. I’m relieved when Nigel points out the obvious: the footwork is heavy, the double-bounce is entirely missing, the kicks are plodding. Technically, it’s a disaster, but it’s an incredibly difficult dance, at the end of an incredibly difficult show. “It’s tough on you—tough,” Nigel lectures. “That’s a dancer’s life. Be better.” Well, I’m willing to cut this hardworking pair some slack.
The solos:
--Courtney Galiano:
Her feet look more articulate to me, her lines strengthened. She keeps her turns swift on those fouettes that then wind down to a coupe leg. She is the show’s most improved, in my eyes. As much or even more than the flashy hip-hop guys, she’s a performer.
--Twitch Boss:
His best solo of the season, because there is urgency behind what he’s doing, a sense of artistic message—he’s not just playing around. There were a few too many of those heart-popping-out-chest-pumps—can we make the hip hoppers retire that move for a bit next season, please? But, there was a big energy, a fierce sharpness, an emotional arc, and a sense that his dancing matters. If he wins—though he shouldn’t--I’ll feel more accepting of it after this solo.
--Katee Shean:
One moment remains burned in my mind from Katee’s solo—she’s crouched on the floor one second, and the next, she’s in the air in an impossibly clear, energized, all-out split jump. She is unquestionably the most refined technician of the final four—though as Mandy points out, she needs to stay in ballet class and keep working on those knees and feet. I hope she does. As I’ve said before, I would have loved to have seen her in some slower, more subtle solos this season. There are gifts in her that she’s only just begun to explore.
--Joshua Allen:
Not his best solo of the season, though he starts out with wonderfully playful timing and a deviously witty smile. I would rather have seen him stay on the main stage and keep the focus on his artistry, instead of going up to the judges. Again, Nigel pounds the “untrained” theme. However “untrained” he may truly be, he’s indisputably blessed with inborn talent.
--Mia Michaels’ group number. Choreography, 10. Performance, 7.
Possibly my favorite choreography of the season, this is a piece I could watch again and find more to admire in it. I love the unusual, clear movement motifs, everyone stopping suddenly on relevé with ballet arms held classroom-rounded out front. There’s a clear language here, not just flailing, and the patterns across the stage are constantly engaging. All four are exhausted, and Courtney doesn’t have the oomph for her lift—no matter. As Mandy says, they “looked like a company.” I wish we could see more group numbers of this caliber of choreography—it’s a higher achievement for all.
My top dancer: Katee
Best Technique: Katee
Best Personality: Courtney
My personal ranking of the top four: Katee, Courtney, Joshua, Twitch.
Rachel Howard is the dance correspondent of the San Francisco Chronicle. Her website is www.rachelhoward.com.
