Jurassic Park, Again? Strictly's Theme Weeks Are Running on Fumes — and Three Films That Should Never Be Danced To Again

Another October, another paso doble to the Jurassic Park theme. Another Charleston in a Mary Poppins hat. Another VT where a celebrity says 'I've never seen the film, but I'm told it's iconic.' Strictly's theme weeks used to be a treat. Now they're a recurring appointment we can set our watches by — and in 2026, that's a problem.

The comfort blanket problem

Theme weeks are supposed to shake things up. In practice, Movie Week and Musicals Week have become the show's safest pair of hands: familiar tunes, built-in stories, costumes that practically choreograph themselves. The result is a Saturday night that looks expensive but feels oddly low-stakes. We know the beats. We know the rictus grin when a couple draws Harry Potter. We know Shirley will find a way to mention 'musicality'.

The issue isn't the idea of a theme. It's the recycling. Strictly has a deep enough songbook and a creative enough pro roster to avoid the same five films — yet every year we get Bond, Potter, Frozen and a dinosaur. The themes have become a comfort blanket the show can't afford, because a dance-off between two couples doing identikit Charleston pastiches tells us nothing about who's actually improving.

Three films we'd ban forever

Jurassic Park. The paso doble is meant to be proud, stalking, dangerous. Dressing a nervous celebrity in a khaki vest and playing John Williams' brass section does not make them a matador. It makes them a tourist. The novelty wore off years ago, and the inevitable 'clever girl' joke from Craig has become the least surprising moment of the series.

Mary Poppins. A Charleston to 'Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious' is Strictly's equivalent of a microwave ready meal: quick, reliable, and nutritionally void. Every couple who gets it looks the same, scores the same, and learns nothing about ballroom. We'd happily never hear that spoonful of sugar again.

The Greatest Showman. We know, we know — it's a Musicals Week staple and the pros love it. But 'This Is Me' has been belted at us so many times it now feels like a threat. The song is built for a rousing finale, not a rumba, and the costumes are always a weird mix of ringmaster and hen party. Retire it.

Honourable mentions go to Frozen, Grease and anything Bond-related that isn't a tango. But those three are the worst offenders.

What a 2026 rewrite should look like

We're not asking Strictly to abandon themes. We're asking it to take a risk. Here's what we'd put in place for the 2026 series:

• British Sitcom Week. Imagine a quickstep to the Only Fools and Horses theme, or a cha-cha to the Vicar of Dibley. It's nostalgic, funny, and — crucially — the songs aren't overused. The pros would have to get creative rather than reaching for the same old jazz hands.
• One-Hit Wonder Week. No films, no musicals, just songs by artists who vanished after one glorious hit. It forces the couples to sell a tune the audience might not know, which is exactly what a live final should test.
• Genre Swap Week. Each couple is given a style they've already danced and must reinterpret it with a completely different song and mood. No costumes, no props, no excuses. Just dancing.
• Decades Roulette. The band picks a decade live in the Clauditorium. Chaos? Yes. Entertainment? Absolutely.

Any of these would do more for the show than another 'We're going to Hogwarts' VT.

Who thrives, who sinks

Looking ahead to the 2026 intake, a few archetypes are already coming into focus.

The former soap star — the one with proper acting chops and a theatre background — would eat up British Sitcom Week. Give her a quickstep to the Only Fools theme and she'll have the audience in the palm of her hand.

The rugby legend, on the other hand, should be kept well away from Eurovision Week. Camp is not his friend. He'd be fine in Video Game Week, though — stick him in a Mario kart and let him march around the floor.

The Radio 1 DJ would thrive in One-Hit Wonder Week. She's got the personality to sell a song nobody knows, and the rhythm to keep up. The newsreader? She'd sink in Noughties Club Classics. We've seen the footage. It's not pretty.

And the CBBC presenter would be the dark horse of Genre Swap Week. Young, fearless, and used to looking daft on telly — that's a Strictly winner in waiting.

The verdict

Theme weeks aren't the enemy. Predictability is. Strictly's audience is loyal, but loyalty isn't the same as complacency, and in 2026 the show needs to prove it can still surprise us. Ban the dinosaurs. Bin the umbrella. Give us something we haven't seen before.

Because if we have to sit through one more Jurassic Park paso, we might just go extinct ourselves.