Opinion: “Fresh” Strictly already feels dated

We were promised a glittering fresh start for Strictly Come Dancing this autumn. A dynamic, post-Tess-and-Claudia overhaul meant to shake up the Saturday night furniture. Yet, two weeks into the live shows, the grand reinvention feels less like a bold new era and, if anything, slightly more tired than what it replaced.

It’s not an absolute trainwreck. It’s not awful. But it certainly isn’t right yet.

The ratings tell a story of an entrenched habits machine. Last night, Strictly pulled in a comfortable 5.1 million viewers, effortlessly wiping the floor with ITV’s fading flagship The Voice (which sank to a record low of 1.4 million) and Mel & Sue’s game show Win Win (a meek 836k). The BBC ballroom remains king of the weekend, but 5.1m feels like a steady ceiling rather than a launching pad. The audience is watching out of routine, but the energy inside the studio isn’t climbing from here unless the BBC fixes its presenting puzzle.

Right now, the three-way anchor system is a dynamic of uneven parts.

The biggest stumbling block remains Josh Widdicombe. The core problem with his links isn’t a lack of talent—he is a razor-sharp, genuinely credible stand-up—it’s the writing. He’s being handed pun-heavy, old-school variety gags as if they were drafted for Bruce Forsyth thirty years ago. Brucie could carry those groaners because that was his act; it was built on decades of end-of-the-pier cheek and self-aware schtick. For Josh, it feels completely unnatural. Every time he delivers one of these scripted setup-and-punchline links, there’s a micro-pause where he’s left hanging at the end, waiting for a laugh from an audience that hasn’t been primed to give one. When he’s allowed to ad-lib and react off-the-cuff, he shines. Forced into the Brucie mould, he looks marooned.

Then there is Johannes Radebe, who brings undeniable warmth but is visibly carrying the weight of the production on his shoulders. Yes, it’s an improvement on Week 1—there’s slightly less sheer terror in his eyes—but the mechanics are far too visible. You can practically hear the floor managers feeding him questions through his earpiece. He clings to his cue cards like a life raft and looks rigid waiting for the couples to be fully in position before he dares speak. When he relaxes into his natural charisma he’s joyous, but right now the production scaffolding is pinning him down.

Which brings us to Emma Willis. Emma is, predictably, a total pro—completely natural, effortless, and commanding the floor with ease. But her efficiency creates a paradox: watching her handle the mayhem only makes you realise that every single link would simply be tighter, smoother, and better if she were hosting solo.

Two weeks in, the verdict is clear. The ratings will keep Strictly comfortably on its throne, but if the producers actually want this new chapter to sing, they need to let Josh be a modern comedian, stop micromanaging Johannes, and decide whether three really is a crowd.

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