AMANDA PLATELL: The toxic truth about who’s to blame for tarnishing Strictly for ever

Twenty years ago, I burst into a meeting of newspaper executives and told the group, mostly middle-aged men, that I had just seen a program that would change Saturday night television viewing forever.

I explained that it was a ballroom dance competition, where beginners were paired with professional dancers and they competed for a glitter ball trophy.

As I raved about the other magical elements of the show – the sequins, the makeup, the live music, the beautiful dresses – I was greeted not with enthusiasm, but with a sea of ​​astonished looks.

Even when I told him that the legendary Bruce Forsyth would be the host, complete with his new catchphrase ‘Keeeep dancing!’, I failed to impress.

I had of course watched the very first episode of Strictly Come Dancing and was so captivated that I predicted that this episode would surpass Simon Cowell’s dominance on Saturday night.

My glowing review appeared in the Mail under the headline: ‘Why Come Dancing has the X Factor’.

‘Finally, reality TV that doesn’t suck,’ I wrote. ‘Step forward, Strictly Come Dancing or quick-step or cha cha, it all works for me.

‘The choice on a Saturday night between Simon Cowell’s The X Factor, which is on a lifelong quest to destroy a man’s self-esteem – and that’s just his fellow judges – and the gentle world of the waltz, and I’d choose Strictly any day.’

I even dared to incur the wrath of the sisterhood by writing that ‘it’s refreshing, in an age when we’re uncertain about our roles, to hear that they’re set for us: the boy grabs the girl and they dance with all their might.’

Part of the magic of Strictly was that it harkened back to an era when women could be more innocent and direct, and enjoy the arm of a strong man around them.

I compared it to The X Factor and said there was ‘a wonderful absence of evil in this series, it was like a breath of fresh air’.

It’s all hard to reconcile with what Strictly have become, a band whose very existence is threatened by a series of scandals surrounding rehearsal room bullying as the band prepares to celebrate its 20th anniversary.

It all started in January, when Amanda Abbington asked to see footage of her rehearsals with her professional dance partner Giovanni Pernice. She then accused him of being “unnecessarily cruel, abusive and mean” during training, leaving her with post-traumatic stress disorder and – rather pettily – a bruised toe.

In recent months she has given so many interviews to so many different media outlets that many fans now see her as someone who wants to single-handedly destroy Strictly.

Last week, she tearfully told Channel 4 News presenter Krishnan Guru-Murthy how she had suffered “degrading behaviour of a sexual nature” from Giovanni. She has even hired leading law firm Carter-Ruck and is said to be seeking damages for loss of earnings and compensation for the trauma she says she suffered.

Giovanni, for his part, denies all the allegations. He has hired his own lawyers to represent Schillings, claiming the BBC failed in its duty of care by linking him to a celebrity who was clearly vulnerable. Amanda had given an interview in which she said she had considered suicide after her split from Sherlock actor and partner of 16 years Martin Freeman.

Part of the problem is that not only the dancers but also the judges have become more demanding over the years.

The original panel – Len Goodman, Arlene Phillips, Craig Revel Horwood and Bruno Tonioli – were a good-natured bunch. Yes, they made great jokes about bad dancers, but it was never malicious and they were full of warm praise for the successful dancers.

Over time, the judges changed, and the new judges were more critical than their predecessors. While they explained the intricacies of certain dance techniques and where the celebrities went wrong, it sometimes felt like the show had become a punishment exercise in ballroom technique, not a joyful celebration of learning to dance.

And the professional dancers became as famous – or even more famous – than the celebrities they worked with. Did this contribute to their growing egos and their will to win? I fear so.

Footage of them pushing their partners to the limit as they perfect their skills in rehearsals is more reminiscent of boot camp than dance studio.

In the early days of Strictly, scores of 10s from the judges were as rare as hens’ teeth, but now they’re showered like confetti on even the most mediocre dancers.

Remember when Top Gear’s Quentin Wilson scored two A’s in the very first series in 2004 before being eliminated?

Or the time that Foxtrot by Susannah Constantine with Anton Du Beke received a 1 from jury member Craig.

And how can we forget John Sergeant’s 1, 3, 4, 4 score for his 2009 cha cha cha, which saw him – literally – drag his pro partner Kristina Rihanoff across the dance floor.

These sorts of scores were entirely justified, as the original premise of the show was that the celebrity contestants were all amateurs. However, last year it was revealed that no fewer than eight of the celebrities had previous dancing experience.

I understand that 20 years is a long time in showbiz and shows have to move with the times. So as time went on, Strictly became more woke, more inclusive and more box-ticking. But it also became much more demanding of its contestants.

Oh, the good times in 2004 when a real newbie, Natasha Kaplinsky, got on the dance floor with Brendan Cole and won the first series. She had gone from being a rather prudish newsreader – I even nicknamed her ‘Spangles’ – to an elegant swan.

I’m afraid I really lost faith in Strictly when they recruited celebrity Layton Williams last year. I can see the appeal of his moving backstory to the Beeb bosses: the gay son of an impoverished white mother and an absent Jamaican father. He seemed like a nice guy and was a cracking dancer.

And was paired with pro Nikita Kuzmin to become Strictly’s first ever male gay couple. All great for diversity, but a disaster for the show as they both professional dancers.

What amateur celebrity stood a chance against someone like Layton, who had been a professional dancer since childhood and was the West End star of Billy Elliot at the age of 12, before going on to star in the musicals Everyone’s Talking About Jamie and Hairspray!

Whatever the outcome of the BBC’s internal investigation into the bullying allegations, for me Strictly is tarnished forever.

The BBC has serious questions to answer about its treatment of both candidates and professionals. These questions extend all the way to the door of Director General Tim Davie, who last week could only parrot corporate language, insisting that the corporation would “never tolerate unacceptable behaviour” and that “the line must never be crossed”.

Well, with this demotion of the BBC’s crown jewel, that line has already been crossed and we fans are very angry.

Amanda’s legal battle alone has been threatening to drag on for months, if not years, with all the grim headlines that come with it.

It all seems a world away from the original Strictly, when Bruce Forsyth greeted us all with: ‘Nice to see you, nice to see you…’ and we cheerily shouted back: ‘Nice!’