· Poor Alex! He was certainly the favorite to take it all, but a busted Achilles tendon means there's a .74% chance he'll be good enough to jive for his life tomorrow. Hold out hope, but I expect tomorrow's elimination to be littered with the tears of Wong, Adam Shankman, Cat Deeley, Nigel Lythgoe, and a crestfallen Whoville native named Kent Boyd.
· Lauren wore a thimble of fringe and white Lycra during her cha-cha-cha with Pasha (a.k.a. SEX MAN), but that's what she needed. Now that she's hot, bothered, and gyrating like Ace Ventura, she should survive another week. It helped that her "Collide" contemporary routine with Kent was almost eerily sexual, as Adam Shankman noted. Too bad Howie Day songs are eerily lame.
· The judges served José another round of "You can't dance, but THAT SPARKLE! You have a SPARKLE!" He gave us a limp contemporary routine in the first half of the show and an utterly nondescript African performance with Billy Bell later. When Nigel acknowledges that he's "not the best dancer" on the show, he needs to realize that he means José is the worst dancer, plain and simple. I love the guy, but he has to leave.
· Kent's smolder with Lauren was admirable -- even touching -- but his hip-hop routine was a serviceable retread of all Justin Timberlake music videos from 2003 (which the stolen Justified wardrobe only reinforced). Kent still has trouble adapting to characters that don't require a Toys 'R Us kid grin, but because he's a neon-eyed Billy Elliott, he'll move forward.
· Adéchiké is so screwed either this week or next. Mia Michaels eviscerated him for his laggard technical skills, going so far as to say most of his routine was "donut holes." Just wait, she elaborated: "Do you know what donut holes are? They're nothing." Ha! Anyway, he's screwed, and the wild leaping from his Bollywood routine isn't going to change it.
· I adore Billy. He's the most dateable of the whole cast, and that's an important criterion when you're a learned dance critic like me. He added zeal and incredible jaguar embodiment to the African routine that Jose botched, and he legitimized the lame choreography from the Cats dance. There's no way he'll end up in the bottom three this week, and that's not just because Adéchiké is screwed, Alex Wong is injured, and Jose isn't very good. Well, I mean, it is. But good job, Billy.
· I worry for Ashley, who just doesn't pop off the screen like some of these compulsively telegenic dudes. Her hip-hop ninja routine was fluid but flat, and her quickstep with albatross-bearing Robert needed more rigid form. In fact, I don't know who will be in the bottom three tonight, because everyone found inventive ways to do things wrong.
· Robert. He's a great dancer! He's also really silly for someone who is scathingly attractive, and it's causing a "disconnect" (quoth Nigel) with viewers. His quickstep failed to take off with Ashley, but he did his darnedest to save his jazz routine with veteran Kathryn, who flubbed her moves at least twice and fell on her ass like a withering Dominique Moceanu. Also, how about the busting-out-of-the-Barbie-box choreography? Was this episode an unofficial tribute to every music video Justin Timberlake is trying to forget? I credit Robert for keeping this "It's Gonna Be Me"-era JT kitschfest together, but it won't vault him into contention for the win.