Also impressing with ballroom are Jose Ruiz (two for two!) and professional ballroomer (so, duh) Serge Ornick. Not so lucky is Adechike Torvert, who wowed the judges with his contempo audition in NYC, but then made the boneheaded decision of all boneheaded decisions by performing a tap in his first solo. Toni, ever my girl, gave that a horrified "Why would you do that?" He scraped by in hip-hop, too, so he's in trouble. And this ballroom performance is a mess. Lil' C and Toni give him reluctant yeses, based clearly on his reputation and audition footage. Adam is waffling over delivering the fourth and damning "no" vote. But Nigel, who knows how good this kid is in his element and doesn't want to lose that -- and, let's be frank, a straight, black, contemporary dancer is like the Holy Grail for a guy like Nigel Lythgoe, so the only way he's getting cut is if the other five judges engineer a palace coup. So Nigel suggests letting him come back later and dance for his life. So a tearfully grateful Adechike goes to practice.
Meanwhile, Jordan Johnson, our recovering (ahem) drug addict really effs up his ballroom routine, too. Adam, in fact, remarks how impressive his partner is for essentially dancing the whole routine on her own. Ouch. "No" votes across the board, though Toni begs him to go and train and get the technique that could take him to the next level. And to meet her at the bar at the Palms at about 11, 11:30.
Nicole, with her hair let down (A TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON) grabs Serge Ornick to partner with her, which seems like, if not cheating, then at least stacking the deck. And she doesn't even do that well the second time. Her magical hair even gets whipped into poor Serge's face at the end. Now, I don't think she was good, but I fully support sending her on. She's a captivating performer, and more ballroom training can shore up these weaknesses. Lil' C votes no, but everyone else gives her very conditional yes votes. She needs to improve. And pull it together, if her crazy nerves here are any indication.
Finally, Adechicke dances for his life, and he's utterly gorgeous. He's smooth and stealthy, like he's a jewel thief or a spy. Nigel scolds him, as he is wont to do, for delivering that mockery of a tap performance. He calls him immature and stupid and then sends him through to the next round. So does everyone else.
Next up: Broadway! But that's for next week.