Previously: Nigel played fast and loose with the rules and eliminated no one last week, bumping this week's odds of elimination from 1 in 9 to 1 in 5. Pity those poor fools who had to dance out of their genre last night.
The opening group dance involves a lot of contrasting iconography. Everybody's dressed in suits above the waist, madras shorts below the waist, and bowler hats on top. Lots of slow-motion running combined with intricate hand movements and synchronization. Tough call as to who choreographed this. Napoleon and Tabitha? No! That was a Dave Scott joint! Well done, sir. Cat struts out to the stage trying to imitate the slo-mo walk, because she's lovely, and Debbie Reynolds is back at the judges table, wearing an old-lady suit made of gold and having the same hairstyle she's had since 1968. It's enough to make me want to replace Nigel on the panel with Carrie Fisher and title the recap These Old Broads.
Cat wastes no time in getting down to business, bringing out Wadi and Missy, Sasha and Alexander, and Mitchell and Caitlynn. Missy and Wadi delivered a cha-cha that was not quite up to par last night, with Wadi in particular looking slow to pick up the new dance style. Cat tells them right off that they're in the Bottom 3, which could not have been a big surprise.
Caitlynn and Mitchell were fortunate enough to get contemporary, so even if their routine didn't have a huge "wow" factor (Stacy Tookey still hasn't managed to excite me on a regular basis), they were at least sitting comfortably in their wheelhouse. Mitchell in particular looked quite graceful, even if I'm not quite buying their shared chemistry yet. They're SAFE.
For the second week in a row, Sasha severely outdanced Alexander, with the designated "Timely and Emotional NappyTabs Number" and I find myself hoping they're in the Bottom 3 so we can dump him and get her hitched to someone more dynamic. (And now I feel like an asshole, because there's Alexander clearly moved by the context of their performance as they watch it back.) Obviously, he's not going anywhere this week, as they're totally safe.
After the break is the chunk of time the show has decided to cede to Gatorade-sponsored content, and since I ain't getting paid in Code Red, I'll just say that Nigel talks about this season's winner getting a Gatorade ad contract, we see Lauren Froderman in the audience (still utterly adorbs), and then there's some nonsense with a "sports nutritionist" invading the Dance House to sell her wares. I mean, hey, make that money, Nigel Lythgoe, but this is skippable. (Also, I'm sorry, but the idea that we have to lecture these DANCERS on counting calories in Ritz crackers is absolutely laughable. These kids have muscles in places that don't exist for the rest of us, I think they'll be fine with an extra saltine.