Of course, it goes without saying that the ballroom work is flawless. Jordan, clad in sparkly red shirt and kilt, gets the biggest laugh of the night due to a brief naughty flash of derriere in a thong, and then the four male dancers stride over his prone body after he collapses. The song? “I’m Still Standing!” The Hollywood homage-ing choreography is exceptional: the Viennese waltz between Waite and Lowri Beth is emotive and butter smooth; and Cole’s paso doble with Alexandra Busheva featuring impressive cloak work from Cole, sizzles Simone’s “Cell Block Tango (He Had It Coming)” from “Chicago” essays Bob Fosse’s timeless hip swinging with sass and sauciness. But it’s Jordan’s sexy rumba with Polina Mayer that has real emotional heft in the articulations, as well as sensuality. The female dancers are equally superb, but voiceless—I would like them to get some one-liners in too.

Only a clunky Wild West routine in the second half leaves me cold, all strutting machismo and an incoherent storytelling involving chairs being hurled around. Happily, it is the only real misstep of the evening, jarring amid the glamour on offer elsewhere. 

For all of the risqué humour and heated pairings, this is after all a family show. Even if some of the dad jokes don’t always land, the chemistry between the five stars is undeniable, proof that it takes more than an iconic BBC TV talent show to showcase the famous “flicks and kicks” of these dynamic fellas. There’s life after Strictly. It’s not epoch shattering or innovative, but the artistry and star power makes up for any flaws. These dancers have the versatility—from Latin to disco to Rat Pack and beyond—to sate an audience of all ages. Legends is not merely a hubristic term—they’ve more than earned their sequins.