This telling video of Amanda Abbington puts the Strictly scandal in a whole new light

If I was a producer on Strictly and saw that video, I would have been worried. For Giovanni. Contestants on I’m A Celebrity, Big Brother and other reality shows are screened for temperament and mental resilience. BBC One’s most successful primetime show doesn’t bother. It exposes fragile egos, highly-strung actors and shiny-eyed amateurs to the rigours of professional dance training. Compared to the charming, more relaxed early series of Strictly, couples now regularly score 7s and 8s by the second week. The pressure is intense to perfect a complex routine within seven days, so much so that the most competitive pairs don’t take a day off at all.

And it’s not just the guys who are tough taskmasters. Katya Jones, Karen Hauer and, previously, ex-Strictly Ola Jordan (just absurdly accused of “bullying” by Steve Backshall) are famously demanding choreographers and rightly successful with it. Behind the feelgood façade of family-friendly viewing, all of the show’s professional dancers are summa cum laude graduates of the school of hard knocks, bleeding feet and twisted knees. In a brutal career, briefer than a butterfly’s, they expect a lot of themselves and maybe too much of their students on occasion. Although, bear in mind that, like Giovanni, Amanda confessed she too was a headbanging perfectionist who beat herself up if she made a mistake. So what did she mean when she told The Sun last Sunday, “I found Giovanni’s behaviour unnecessary, abusive, cruel and mean. I couldn’t sit back and let him do that to other people”?

Are we supposed to believe that the Giovanni who, with heroic reserves of patience and skill, guided a profoundly deaf Rose (who couldn’t hear the music, bless her) to the most moving and remarkable victory in the show’s history, is some kind of sadistic tyrant? Or did he simply believe Amanda was a potential winner and do his job? Worried about her “mood swings”, he allegedly asked for their training to be monitored.

Once she had flounced out, she must have known she had made a fool of herself and squandered a golden opportunity, I think. But it couldn’t be allowed to be Amanda’s fault. Instead, all the blame was seemingly deflected onto a bemused Giovanni, with Amanda eagerly joining some of his previous partners to gang up against him. Even women who had raved about him and seemed smitten. Sexual tension (and disappointment) is never far from the surface in these situations.

The same applies in the much more serious case of Graziano Di Prima. “Graz” is another wonderful dancer and generally a sweet guy but, until last year, he had had little opportunity to shine, being denied a celebrity partner two years running (the Strictly equivalent of being on the subs’ bench). He must have seen £££££ signs flashing in 2023 when he was assigned Zara McDermott, the Love Island star. (The pros’ stock is boosted enormously if they win, and it opens doors into other lucrative television work.) Alas, Zara looks like a swan but dances like a duckling in Doc Martens. The poor thing tried, but she just couldn’t do it. Di Prima’s frustration must have been intense although, after he admitted kicking her, he had to be sacked, no question. It was disgusting behaviour, even if previous partners such as Susannah Constantine said it was deeply out of character.

What is puzzling is that McDermott didn’t mention the abuse for nearly a year (it was disclosed by a member of the production team). In front of the judges, she swore Graziano was the one person she’d miss out of the whole experience, the couple made lots of funny TikTok videos together, Zara and her boyfriend hung out with Di Prima and his dancer wife and, not that long ago, Zara attended Graziano’s theatre show, Believe: My Life on Stage, and had a temporary break-up from her boyfriend. Why would she do that for a man who abused her? There seems quite a lot more to this story.

‘I am confident Pernice will be vindicated’

All of the above has cast a dark shadow over one of the nation’s sunniest television shows. Look, some of us rely on Strictly to get us through the winter. Tim Davie, the BBC director general, vowed on Tuesday to take a tough approach to clean up the show. “We will never tolerate unacceptable behaviour of any kind,” he said.

Chaperones will be assigned to each couple in the forthcoming series, which starts within a matter of weeks. What next? Hays Code guidelines to ban the pros and celebs from touching each other? It all feels completely disproportionate, a silly witch hunt, an untrue characterisation of a show which has, for almost 20 series, brought joy and simple pleasure into our living rooms. As Ann Widdecombe, one of Strictly’s most memorable performers (if not dancers) said, people should “grow up”.

I blame Amanda Abbington. The harm that woman has done is incalculable. Spraying around more and more accusations as she tours the media sofas, is the actress, as some have claimed, possibly getting her revenge in first, before the BBC’s internal inquiry clears Giovanni Pernice later this week? Hell hath no fury. I am confident Giovanni, a great dancer and teacher, will be vindicated.

The 20th series of Strictly will be missing its G-spot, but the show must go on, and on and on. I hope they invite him back next year, because viewers adore him. Meanwhile, I understand some people, mentioning no names, have already got Meet and Greet tickets for Giovanni Pernice’s The Last Dance in May 2025. A bargain at £100 each. Who, me?