The boozy father, the secret wife, the sugar daddy: The outrageous story of Craig Revel Horwood

Craig Revel Horwood with his Strictly Come Dancing ladies
11 April 2012
The Weekender

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The Strictly Come Dancing judge reveals all in our exclusive extract from his new autobiography, All Balls and Glitter.




Craig Revel Horwood has sunk so far into the low leather sofa in his plum-accented sitting room that his knees are scraping his chin. From this position, under the stuffed and mounted head of a gazelle in an auburn wig, the resident cartoon villain of Strictly Come Dancing defends his new autobiography, All Balls And Glitter, which is serialised in Weekend next week.

'I couldn't give a toss about offending people if what I write is true,' he says. 'I wanted to tell my story without anyone else's influence or perspective. It was quite therapeutic to report how things affected me personally.'

His father's alcoholism is in there, with a terrifying account of the day he ran amok with a shotgun, along with the bullying Craig endured as a podgy Australian 'poofter' in the provincial town of Ballarat. In other words, all the heart-rending ingredients of a literary sob-job, but Craig, 43, doesn't do self-pity. Those who dislike his no-nonsense style on Strictly should know he can take it as well as dish it out.

Craig Revel Horwood with his Strictly Come Dancing ladies

Craig Revel Horwood with his Strictly Come Dancing ladies

Years of criticism as a dancer, when his yoyoing weight attracted cruel jibes, have toughened him up and he is mystified by the hissy-fits of celebrities who bridle at his comments. Mind you, he does regret calling Patsy Palmer a ' two-bit actress in a second-rate soap'. As Craig puts it: 'I think some of them wonder why I'm there and don't realise that I have a proven track record as a choreographer and actually know what I'm talking about. But, for heaven's sake, I'm a judge. I have to give them feedback or what's the point? I've learned to keep away from the personal but if I see someone dancing like a mummy, I'm not going to say, " Momentarily stiff, darling, but otherwise you were wonderful!" just because I feel sorry for them.'

He and his fellow judges are secure at the BBC, at least in the short term, having signed new pay deals. He is not at liberty to reveal the figures but other sources have suggested a 50 per cent rise to around £90,000 a series.

'It wasn't the money so much as recognition for what we put into the show. I'm under no illusion that I'm irreplaceable but we want to be rewarded fairly and we are a reassuring constant, along with Brucie and Tess.'

You feel wrangles with the BBC are put in perspective by some of Craig's earlier trials. A less robust person might have been horribly damaged by what he endured as a youngster. He prefers to chortle at some of the memories.

He was born in 1965, the second of five children in a family tyrannised by the drunken rages of his naval lieutenant father, Phil. Dad was not best pleased when seven-year-old Craig smeared on his mother Beverley's lipstick to perform his own ditty, A Pimple On Your Bum, during a Christmas get-together. 'He chased me all round the house, shouting "Don't ever let me catch you dressed like that again!" and I held my breath under a bed, praying he wouldn't find me. The bizarre thing was that ten years later he made big efforts to come to my drag shows because he was almost entranced by the character up there under the lights.' (Craig used to have a female alter-ego called Lavish, until he killed her off when he was 20.)

Craig says that he was a fat - he blithely announces that he still has an eating disorder - and friendless little boy. 'We grew up surrounded by verbal abuse and shouting. As soon as you walked through the door, you knew it was going to start. It didn't occur to me to complain about being bullied because there were just too many problems already. I'd do my paper run in the morning, go to school, do my chores, go to dance class, go to bed.

I grew up surrounded by verbal abuse and shouting

'I basically left home at 16, at the first opportunity, but I always thought my dad's drinking would come to some sort of explosive finale.'

It did, after Craig moved to Paris. On 9 January 1989, his father's birthday, Phil crowned a furious, drunken binge by grabbing a shotgun from the house and scattering his family to neighbours' houses, where they waited for the police. His older sister, Sue, was pregnant at the time, and for a short, confused period of time it was believed her husband had been shot.

The local newspaper reported the incident, under the headline Shotgun Phil, and the lid was blown off the Horwoods' pretence of a normal life. Phil was persuaded to go into rehab after a short spell in jail but he only managed to stay off the booze for three years. He and Beverley are now divorced.

'My dad can be the nicest, most charming man, but when he drinks, that person disappears. I'm still on speaking terms with him and I still love him but we all have to accept that he's chosen alcohol. He knows that I've written about him now and he's grudgingly come to terms with it. In a way, it's my belated chance to grieve for the loss of my father and mother's marriage. I adore a drink myself but I'm always worried I'm going to turn into my father, that this might be the glass that tips me over the edge and makes me into an alcoholic. I've seen how ugly that is and how desperate - and the misery it can cause.

'But I can't imagine abstaining completely. I try to keep it quite moderate and not get paralytic - except on a Saturday night.' He stops, aware that he's just undermined his case. The laugh starts again. 'Let's say I try to maintain some dignity, but maybe I'm not the best person to judge.'

All Balls and Glitter: Craig Revel Horwood

All Balls and Glitter: Craig Revel Horwood

Craig's instinct to make light of matters draws him back to a good joke. His 'coming out' at 18 was surprisingly painless as he recalls it. He told his elder sister, who told one of his younger sisters, who told his mother. By the time he found the courage to say he was gay, her reaction was: 'I know.' His father commented gruffly that men used to be court-martialled in the Navy for that sort of thing and, unexpectedly, left it at that.

'I went back in the closet for a year, though, and had a girlfriend. In-out. Stop-start. My family must have wondered what I was doing.' Recent stories that he was a teenage rent boy are not strictly true. What happened is that he had a pragmatic arrangement with a much older man who he met while he was a trainee at a local TV station. 'Mr X' took him on a six-week cultural tour of America and England in return for sexual favours.

'I wasn't standing on street corners touting for trade but I did accept money from this man. He was a sugar daddy I suppose. We struck a deal and decided terms. He knew I didn't love him or even find him attractive but he got what he wanted and I got away from Ballarat. I don't regret it because it helped me to grow up, but it did turn me off the gay path for a short while.'

Craig maintains an appreciative eye for women, despite far longer-term relationships with men. 'Oh yes, I can fancy a nice-looking girl, and not just at an aesthetic level.' Perhaps the most surprising part of his life, and it contains such gems as the schoolboy Craig coming second in the Sunbeam Junior Chef of The Year competition with a recipe for jellied prawn cocktail, is that he has an ex-wife.

He moved to Paris at 22 to work as a dancer, having funded his training with jobs as a chef and a hairdresser. At 24, he came to London and never left. His flatmate was a Welsh girl called Jane. They married in 1990 and were together for two years before she slept with someone else, which triggered their divorce. They remain close and she still carries his surname, despite having a new partner and two kids. Does he think they might have stayed together under different circumstances? 'I have gay friends who are married and it works for them because they love their wives and agree to be really careful if they have other relationships. But I think it's... nicer if you stay faithful to each other, so I don't know. I'm more comfortable with a steady domestic life.'

He met boyfriend Grant MacPherson - a 28-year-old pharmacist - through an internet dating site last November, at a point when he was resigned to single life. His previous partner of 13 years had left and he suffered a string of calamitous flings, one with an unhinged drag artiste and sometime rugby player. His humiliation was sealed when he not very brightly logged on to the dating site under a false name and his own photo. The press found out immediately.

'Mortifying, darling!' he admits. 'It can seem impossible to meet the right man when you're past 40 and people know you from the telly. I get 22-yearolds coming up to me because they think I can get them on to Big Brother. They're not interested in me as a person. Then there's the awful business of spending weeks getting to know someone and discovering they are cheats or liars. Ugh, I have to watch what I eat and then I'm unhappy so I eat more and get fatter. It was all so exhausting that I'd given up. I can say that now because I feel so happy and secure.'

And there you have it: the barbed, brutal Craig Revel Horwood is actually a big softie who doesn't take himself too seriously and is partial to a pizza, or two. Who's going to 'boo' him now?

THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE USELESS: CRAIG ON HIS COLLEAGUES

A perfect 10: Craig rates his fellow judges

A perfect 10: Craig rates his fellow judges

Some of Bruce Forsyth's finest moments are during his half-hour warm-up - it's like an act at the London Palladium. It's great seeing that 'variety' side of him: he tap dances, sings and tells naughty jokes. If I'm as nimble at 80 as him, I'll be thrilled.

Arlene Phillips isn't afraid to accept criticism or hand it out but she's too harsh about marking contestants down for little mistakes. She's brilliant: funny, driven, slightly nutty, sex-mad and won't suffer fools lightly. She's usually in total control so I love it when she gets flustered and rambles inanely, which is a sure sign that she's lost the plot.

Bruno Tonioli swears like a trooper and is madly over-exuberant. People assume we don't get on because of our on-screen arguments but, off screen, we are true mates. One day we went out for dinner, got absolutely hammered and flagged down a black cab to get us home. The door opened and Bruno completely missed the step. He was face down with his top half inside the taxi and his knees splayed in the middle of the road outside. I wish I'd had a camera...

Len Goodman used to be a stand-up comedian and can be utterly hilarious. He's got a great sense of mischief. He can also be a real old grump. He's not all sparkling teeth and ridiculously high marks. He doesn't like to hurt any of the contestants' feelings and he tries to nurture and encourage them, but when he's in a grouchy mood, the other judges feel it.

Alesha Dixon is stunning, our greatest female all-rounder to date. She came to us at rock bottom, following her marriage breakdown, and the way she battled through on Strictly made her an inspiration. She is a wonderful character.

Mark Ramprakash sealed his place at the top of my leader board with the hottest salsa - his hip control was phenomenal. He had trouble remembering the routine at first but by Saturday night, he was astounding.

Chris Parker from series one stays in my memory for his notorious paso doble. It was atrocious. He came on the tour this year and I would love to say he has improved, but he hasn't. He's a star because he's a great sport.

Penny Lancaster Stewart and I used to eat sausage and mash, with her husband Rod, after the show and there were never any hard feelings about me saying her dress was like an outfit you'd wear to a swingers' party.

Julian Clary and I failed to see eye to eye. He took exception to having his technique criticised and called me a 'silly old queen'. I got upset about his digs in the end, and let rip at him like a lunatic about his insecurities.

Claire King was great company in the bar because she loves to party. Her rumba with dance partner Brendan Cole was one of the filthiest I've ever seen.

Kate Garraway went from doing no exercise during the last series, to doing 40 hours a week. Bless her, she was no good at dancing but magnificent all the same for having a go.

Jan Ravens took it all far too seriously. I was astounded when she reacted badly to me saying she 'kicked like a mule' because it was actually one of her better dances. Her husband Max sprang to her defence later on by pushing me in the chest - I put it down to experience!

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