
The Thrill of the SpillMy new preoccupation with ice dancing.
Posted Monday, Feb. 20, 2006, at 4:42 PM ET
Last night after Grey's Anatomy, my TV-watching companions and I clicked over to NBC to check on the Olympics. A Fabio-esque male skater rumbaed across the screen, his perky partner rhythmically convulsing at his side. Ice dancing. We all groaned.
We decided to linger for a minute, though—just long enough to ridicule the bare-chested men and showgirly women. Sure enough, Canada's Patrice Lauzon and Marie-France Dubreuil elicited the requisite snigger. Then, in the midst of a lift, Dubreuil lost her grip on Lauzon. She hurtled down, bouncing on her hip as she slammed into the ice. After an initial gasp, we let out a sadistic roar. This was fantastic.
The entertainment kept coming. While we felt some guilt from laughing at poor Dubreuil's expense, we practiced little restraint when Italy's Federica Faiella and Massimo Scali tumbled to the ice in an innocuous yet awkward tangle. After a clean skate by a pair of Russians, Italy's Barbara Fusar Poli and Maurizio Margaglio had a similarly bumbling spill, definitely safe for a snicker.
By the end of the night, five ice-dancing pairs had fallen on their faces. Watching Olympians fall down is nothing new for Winter Games viewers, of course. Many, like Slate's Seth Stevenson, break the spell of Olympics boredom by watching skiers like Lindsey Kildow crash and burn. As someone who doesn't have a taste for blood, though, I find it hard to partake in the joys of "ski-disaster porn." But because most of these falls were harmless, last night's ice-dancing competition offered a new form of sporting entertainment: slapstick comedy.
By thrusting the prospect of egregious error into the competition, Sunday's ice dancers unknowingly (and, I'm sure, unintentionally) found a way to make their sport compelling. Ballroom dancing on ice, or ice dancing, is an inherently silly concept, lagging behind pairs and singles figure skating in terms of acrobatics, athleticism, and gravitas. The outlandish, skimpy costumes and the goofy grins all add to the spectacle. What's more, the "sport" is riddled with limitations—only two lifts are permitted in the original dance, and according to the rules, none can demonstrate "obvious feats of strength" (skaters may not lift over the head or sit on the back or shoulder). Moves like "twizzles" and "Choctaws" can only be so riveting.
Given that ice dancing seems to require little more than basic coordination, mediocre rhythm, a terrible outfit, and a cheerleader grin, these falls border on the surreal. You would expect such a performance from Will Ferrell. You expect more from your Olympians. Thank goodness these wobbly ballerinas defied my expectations. Tonight, for the first time, I'll turn on the Olympics with the express purpose of watching the ice-dancing finals. I don't care who wins, but I'll be hoping that someone falls.












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Remarks from the Fray:
Wow, didn't realize Jill Hunter Pellettieri not only gets a kick out of watching people fall, but also see their Olympic dreams fail in front of millions of people. Did she know that Marie-France Dubreuil not only fell, but so seriously injured herself that she was hospitalized, and the team was forced to withdraw from the competition. Did she see how her partner and husband Patrice Lauzon was too choked up with tears to speak during the NBC interview the following night? But no, this is apparently an occasion for a "sadistic roar." Next time one of Jill's biggest dreams fail in front of the world I'll be sure to laugh at her disappointment.
--Bungirl
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(2/21)