Three opinionated judges. Sixteen professional dancers. Sixteen celebrities. Two hosts and lots of glitter and spray tans. That's the basic formula for Dancing with the Stars, but, really, there's nothing formulaic or predictable about the series because it's our show. We call the shots. We determine who stays and who goes each week.
No, we'll never be able to dance like Julianne Hough, Maksim Chmerkovskiy or Cheryl Burke, and that's exactly why we watch. We can totally relate to the stars competing on the show and it's pretty cool to know they're just like us. These actors, comedians, musicians, entrepreneurs, reality stars and where-are-they-now personalities start out as lumbering Frankensteins with two left feet, and they slowly transform (we hope) into graceful twinkle-toed Baryshnikovs. OK, our weekly phone and online votes aren't powerful enough to help them that much, but we do have the power to determine the show's outcome.
You'd think the stars were competing for more than just a mirrored disco ball, the way the celebs risk torn ligaments, poked eyes, fainting spells and wardrobe malfunctions to earn a perfect 30 from judges Carrie Anne Inaba, Len Goodman and Bruno Tonioli. We'd never want to face their wrath, but it sure is fun to see them unleash it on the stars. That's probably the one time we wouldn't want to be in the stars' shoes, no matter how shiny and glittery they might be.
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