The glittering ballroom of Dancing With the Stars transformed into a digital battleground on Tuesday night, where the infectious earworms of social media collided with the disciplined elegance of traditional ballroom dancing. For season 35’s third consecutive live show, aptly dubbed “Viral Hits Night,” the celebrity cast had to channel the frenetic energy of TikTok anthems and chart-topping streaming singles into foxtrots, cha-chas, and tangos. It was a high-wire act strung with sequins and strung higher with nerves. The pressure was palpable as the audience roared, and the night kicked off with a seemingly impossible standard set by Jenna Dewan and Val Chmerkovskiy. Performing to Katseye’s “Animal,” the duo made the number look like a sizzling cinematic race, with Dewan—a former dancer who knows her way around a movie set—clawing through the choreography with feral precision. Val, the veteran champion, maintained an iron frame while Jenna provided the ferocious attack. The judges were immediately animated, their critique pads practically forgotten. Bruno Tonioli, ever the theatrical showman, launched out of his chair to declare her a “fast and furious sexy beast” who “did not miss a beat.” Carrie Ann Inaba praised the unrelenting offensive energy, while Derek Hough analyzed the perfect alignment of their extended lines. It was a stellar opening, a venomous and glamorous statement that set the bar mercilessly high for everyone who followed.
Yet, the night’s true emotional anchor came from a warrior. Ezra Frech, the extraordinary Paralympian known for his dominance in high jump, stepped onto the floor with the phenomenal pro Daniella Karagach for a cha-cha that transcended mere technique. Frech, who has faced more physical and societal obstacles than most will ever know, used the stage to showcase not just a dance, but a declaration of limitless possibility. As the music pulsed through the speakers, his spins were unnervingly sharp, his hip action was fluid and precise, and his connection with Daniella was electric—a partnership built on mutual trust and unyielding determination. The judges were visibly moved, their usual playful banter replaced by a reverent silence followed by heartfelt praise. Carrie Ann, often the sentimental core of the panel, looked him directly in the eye and praised his ability to make the audience watch him, adding that he demands excellence from himself because he knows no other way. Derek Hough, known for his own exacting standards and technical brilliance, simply stated he was “blown away” by the sheer power and rhythmic accuracy. The score of 21 placed him proudly in the top tier. Right alongside him, matching that impressive total, was Olympian Amber Glenn and her partner Pasha Pashkov. The figure skater traded her ice blades for shiny dance shoes and delivered a tango that possessed the razor-sharp attacking quality of her athletic career. It was fierce, staccato, and stunningly confident. Bruno declared it the “best tango of the night” while Carrie Ann admitted the performance left her with “full body chills” and shivers running down her spine. With three couples all sitting at 21 points, the ballroom felt charged with an electricity that promised an intense season ahead.
While the upper echelon tied at the top, the rest of the cast faced the unenviable challenge of keeping up with the viral fever dream. The theme, while undeniably fun, is a double-edged sword; these songs demand a certain playful looseness and a connection to modern pop culture that often fights against the strict posture, precise footwork, and rigid partnering required for classical ballroom. The judges were in peak form, with Tonioli oscillating between theatrical fits of passion and brutal, blunt dismissals. Inaba frequently clutched her chest, communicating her emotional responses before delivering her more clinical critiques about frame and hip action. Derek Hough, the technical guru of the panel, offered constructive advice to the mid-tier performers, trying to coax more fluidity from their limbs and more storytelling from their eyes. However, the high standards of the night meant that even a minor stumble was magnified in the harsh glare of the spotlight. Viewers at home watching on ABC or Disney+ could see the anxiety crinkle the corners of the contestants’ eyes as they awaited the judges’ scores, hoping that their hard work had paid off. The live band played the social media hits with a polished orchestral sound, but the safety of the ballroom was wearing thin. For every winning performance that made the night feel magical, there was a shadow of doubt cast over the next. By the midway point, it was clear that the judges had no intention of being forgiving; they were conserving their praise for the exceptional and saving their sharpest critiques for those who dared to step onto the floor underprepared or too rigid to connect with the music.
That sharp edge fell hardest on Giada De Laurentiis. The beloved celebrity chef is accustomed to perfect execution in the high-stakes world of television cooking, where a single misstep can ruin a dish and a reputation. But in the ballroom, her celebrated control failed her. Taking on the salsa with the incredibly talented pro partner Alan Bersten, Giada looked elegant, glamorous, and utterly stunning. Yet, her movements lacked the fundamental fire required for the dance. Salsa is the heartbeat of Latin night—it requires unbridled attitude, unsuppressed passion, and hips that move independently of the torso with an infectious flirtatiousness. Unfortunately, her execution was stiff and hesitant, failing to convey the joy and heat that defines the genre. The judges’ feedback was as brutal as it was swift, a cold splash of water on a warm evening. Tonioli, with a theatrical sigh and a wave of his hand, told her that her salsa had “no spice”—a devastating assessment for a woman whose entire public career revolves around flavor, taste, and the art of making things delicious. Inaba, in a slightly gentler but still pointed tone, admitted she found the number to be “shaky” and lacking the necessary discipline. The score hit the screen at a dismal and disheartening 12. It was the lowest score of the night, matched only by Guillermo Rodriguez and his pro partner Witney Carson, who had their own struggles keeping pace with the challenging choreography. For Giada, the judgment felt like a sucker punch to the gut. The camera caught a forced smile as she tried to maintain her perfect composure, while Alan offered a reassuring hand on her back, whispering words of encouragement that the microphones could not pick up. She knew, deep down, that the numbers didn’t lie.
The tension reached its boiling point when the bottom two were revealed to be Giada and Guillermo. The host called for the first elimination of the evening, a moment that always brings a hush over the crowd. Guillermo, the affable comedian who brings laughter to late-night television, had performed with massive heart but lacked the technical finesse required to survive another week. Giada, however, represented a different type of failure—a polished public figure undone by her inability to let go of her perfectionism and surrender to the rhythm. Standing side-by-side, facing the judges and the audience, the mood was somber and heavy. They had both given their absolute all, but the competition is mercilessly unforgiving. Ultimately, the judges decided to send Giada home, saving the comedian perhaps due to his potential for growth or his undeniable charisma. The reaction was immediate—a collective gasp from the audience, followed by the sympathetic applause people offer when someone loses a battle they obviously fought hard to win. As Giada walked over to hug her fellow contestants, the deep disappointment was etched into her features. But she exhibited a grace that her salsa had lacked, a quiet dignity that spoke volumes. Speaking to the camera, she offered a stunningly human confession that will surely echo through the season: “I tried my best and it wasn’t best enough. But I tried my best.” It was a moment of pure vulnerability that cut through the glamour and the sequins, reminding everyone why we watch. Her pro partner, Alan, wiped tears from his eyes, and the audience gave her a final, thunderous standing ovation as the lights dimmed and she took her final, bittersweet stroll off the dance floor.
As the credits rolled on the third episode of season 35, the leaderboard told the story of a night where the viral world met the strict discipline of the ballroom. Jenna Dewan and Val Chmerkovskiy, Ezra Frech and Daniella Karagach, and Amber Glenn and Pasha Pashkov all held the top spot with identical scores of 21—a testament to the high caliber of talent populating this season. Of course, their triumph was tempered by the emotional exit of Giada and Guillermo, whose tied score of 12 proved that in this game, consistency is king and warmth cannot always save you. The stakes are only rising as the competition heats up, and Dancing With the Stars continues to deliver the perfect cocktail of emotional resonance, athletic feats, and deliciously high-stakes drama. The show airs every Tuesday at 8 p.m. ET on ABC and Disney+, offering viewers a weekly escape into a world where musicians, athletes, and TV stars trade their usual professions for a shot at the mirrorball trophy. Yet, beyond the scores and the dazzling costumes, the show remains a profoundly human experience. It showcases the raw courage it takes to be vulnerable in front of millions, to learn a new language of movement under crushing time constraints, and to face public judgment with dedication, humility, and a brave smile. Giada’s parting words resonated intensely because they encapsulated the universal truth of the human condition—that effort, even when it falls short of perfection, is still worthy of respect. As next week approaches, the remaining couples know they must either rise to the occasion or risk becoming a mere footnote to the night’s lingering memory of a chef who, despite the judges’ lack of “spice,” demonstrated exceptional grace under fire.
