Because here’s the deal: Kent might be the most popular, and the almost-certain winner, but he’s not the best. He’s sweet and cute, with the aw-shucks charm and the Paul Newman-y looks. He’s an excellent dancer, with lovely technique most of the time (minus disco and ballroom) and he’s enthusiastic, committed and earnest. Kent’s performance with All Star Allison was the most deeply felt on his part since the prom piece with Lauren, but it looked like he managed to scratch the surface of something truly raw in his gut and it scared him. He pulled back from it, when I wanted him to just give in. The Bollywood was fine, although the smiley face distracted me from the already distracting sparkly costumes. The guy-on-guy malevos routine that closed the show was interesting for its novelty, but Kent looked like an 8-year-old in Daddy’s suit and was no match for the more masculine Robert.

And then there was the “Hip to be Square” jazz routine. Halfway through the show Lauren and Kent were given some high school choreography to do (sorry, Mandy Moore, but come on!) that was reminiscent of Billy and Lauren’s “Boogie Shoes” number a few weeks ago, without the snappy Converse. Or the fun. The entire show came to a halt after this piece — the judges were unimpressed, the choreographer looked sad, and I was pissed “SYTYCD” ruined a perfectly good Huey Lewis song. No bueno.

Lauren did what she could with it, though, and managed to be the most versatile of all the dancers over the course of the evening (and the season, really.) She’s come from being the cheerleading goody-goody who looked like she was ready to shout “BE-E AGGRESSIVE!” at any moment to a fully developed, well-rounded (not a butt joke) interpreter of human emotion. Like Adam said, Lauren feels music better than any of the other dancers. She’s tapped into her own sexual power without going skank, and has fused her physical and psychological fortitude into becoming a complete dancer capable of taking on any challenge. Lauren’s a contemporary dancer, ostensibly, and managed to hit harder than Twitch during their hip-hop routine. The contemporary number with Robert, choreographed by Dee Caspary, was seamless and fluid, constant motion made to look effortless. The dancers were trusting and connected, and impeccable. And then the cha cha! Yeesh! If I were Lauren’s parents I would’ve been mortified by that thing she did with the bending over, and the back-arching and the half-nakedness. Wow. Fantastic to see Tony and Melanie, the choreographers, get good and dirty like I know they can.

Which brings us to Robert. My sweet, sweet, Robert. I question his judgment for wearing a button-up shirt during his solo that was actually buttoned up — Kent’s was all flowy and open, with abs rippling. That gets votes. But I have to believe that in a just world the voters will also look at Robert’s ability to transform into a character immediately, no matter how far removed form his own sunny and goofy persona. He channeled the ’80′s perfectly for his jazz routine with Mark, intense and controlled. Like Lauren’s hip-hop, Robert seemed to execute the piece more convincingly than his All Star. Robert’s most entrancing performance of the night, though, was the interrogation piece with All Star Kathryn set to “Cool” from “West Side Story.” She was smoldering, he was tightly coiled, and what could’ve been a horrific pillaging of a classic piece of Jerome Robbins choreography was a rather loving homage. Slinky and sexy.

Briefly, before the finale: Cat Deeley’s dress — black. Short. Lacy. Tight. With red lipstick. Yes. If every tween in America believes that every other tween is already voting for Kent, maybe one of the other two dancers stands a chance. Watching the video package of audition footage made me teary. And two quotes of the night:

Cat, in reference to Robert and Mark onstage together: “Kooky bonkers on the stage, in a handsome package.”

And Kent, just being Kent: “Vote for me, ’cause I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Below is the original “Cool” scene from “West Side Story” — it’s kind of small, but it’s in widescreen so you get all of the picture. It makes me need to see it on my big ol’ 40 inch TV.

Favorite bits of the night, besides Desmond: the opening number. Genius. I’m biased, since they used “Drumming Song” by Florence + the Machine, a song I can’t get enough of already, and one that screams for flailing bodies to accompany it. Janelle Monae (whose album I also already have) was the best musical performer the series has seen this year. She’s got an angel-doll-face with some Sammy Davis Jr. and James Brown in her soul, and she brought an entire package to the show: her own dancers, her own aesthetic, and she herself actually danced. Contrast that with Flo Rida — ooh, another chance to see our All Star girls dressed in spandex and shaking their asses like video hoochies!  Boo.

I’m more convinced than ever before that the Emmy voters are complete and utter fools for not nominating Cat Deeley. The genuine joy she got from giving Lauren the news that she’d made it into the finale was a perfect example of how much Cat really feels for the contestants — imagine Jeff Probst or Heidi Klum hugging anyone the way Deeley did Lauren. Not gonna happen.

The rest of the interesting stuff: Nigel’s going to dance next week, which is always fun to see. The producers are recreating the Twitch-Alex hip-hop routine with a “dance legend.” Paula Abdul? She’s got time, right? I almost didn’t mind the overt Gatorade ad. Almost. If there was only a 2% difference in votes between Kent and Lauren at the top, there’s hope for my Robert yet. And: I totally want to see “Step Up 3D” — talk about over-the-top eye candy. Don’t judge me.

Your video fun for the night is in the form of last year’s Desmond Richardson performance on the show, in which he and Complexions Contemporary Ballet dancer Patricia Hachey blew everyone’s minds. Seriously, watch her from the beginning of the piece. Her legs and balance are unparalleled. I couldn’t embed the video, though…the website’s in Japanese. If it were Spanish it would’ve been fine.

Next week we get a winner!

I really want Robert to win, and I don’t think he will. His warmth and authenticity is evident in everything he does. All of the final dancers are pleasant and earnest and seemingly kind in their recorded packages and rehearsal footage, but Robert has been able to infuse all of his performances with the same commitment and clarity he brings to the rest of his existence. Hyperbolic? Yup. And I don’t care. Lauren, too, has been fully engaged in everything she’s done, except for the first couple of weeks when she hadn’t quite figured out how to dance like a grown-up. I have this little voice in my head, however, that even though Robert and Lauren are both better dancers (more fluid, more versatile, more consistent) than Adechike, one of them may miss out on next week’s finale and the chance to be “America’s favorite dancer.” Kent, even before his rapturous contemporary, is the clear favorite and in no danger whatsoever, unless Taylor Lautner simultaneously appears, naked, in hundreds of thousands of teen girls’ houses to distract them during the voting period.

So let’s look at the great performances:

Lauren and Pasha’s tango. The control! The locked-in physical connection! It made me want to fan myself. I wrote down (before Mia said it, I swear) “she’s a woman.” And she now dances like one, even at 18 years old. Then they put her in a lace body stocking for a black widow jazz routine with Ade, at which point I wrote “hooker superhero.” Luckily the movement in that piece wasn’t skanky, or it could’ve devolved right quick.

Also great: Robert and Dominic’s scary clown act. Tabitha and Napoleon did, as Mia said, create “hip-hop theater.” It was engaging on many more levels than a simple competiton piece should be. The musicality (the neck-snapping motion on exactly the right beat was insane) and the staging and styling were perfectly synthesized with the utter commitment the dancers brought. Creepy and fantastic. And it was, I believe, Robert’s first hip-hop, although they’ve saddled him with four ballroom numbers. Yeesh, it’s like the producers are out to get my sweet baboo.

The most amazing of the night: Kent’s contemporary show-stopper with Neil. Yes, this could’ve just been a story about getting stabbed in the back by your best friend. I think it’s definitely easier for some folks to accept two men performing an intimate dance if it’s couched in hetero-terminology. The beauty of human emotions, though, is that they boil down to only a few primal reactions (love, hate, hungry,) and can be expressed by any number of narratives. Being betrayed feels much the same if it’s your best friend or your boyfriend because it’s all rooted in anger and pain, so Kyle and Neil were able to embody both possibilities with one exquisite Travis Wall routine. Nigel called it “chilling,” Mia cried for the first time in a while, and I was floored. Good thing, because Kyle’s disco was so Mickey Mouse Club I almost choked on the cheese.

The shrug-worthy performances:

Bulletproof Adechike will likely stay put, even though his performances were the worst of the lot. At this point in the competition the dancers need to be more than sufficient. They need to have moved beyond comments like “you have so much potential.” They need to metaphorically smear their viscera all over the dance floor, every single time they step on it. Adechike had two chances to open himself up, explode with joy and transform. Both the African jazz piece and the fascinating stylistic mash-up from Desmond Richardson and Dwight Rohden should’ve felt like supernovas — I wanted to feel the life and pulse and heart of the dancer blasting my face off with forceful joy.

That didn’t happen.

Adechike and Kathryn still have zero chemistry, ditto for him and All Star Lauren, and his stiffness was obvious and inexplicable. He’s been told the exact same thing (“loosen up”) week after week and has been incapable of doing it. And the purple outfit against Kathryn’s red dress was terrifying, even if it wasn’t his fault.

I learn something new every day: Cat Deeley would look great with shorter hair. The contestants have taken on that late-season leanness that all the “SYTYCD” dancers do — like their baby fat evaporates. The All Stars better be getting paid up the yin yang, because they’re getting beat to hell almost as badly as the contestants and have yet to disappoint in any way. See: Kent dropping Courtney on her head, face and back over and over during disco rehearsal. And Tyce Diorio: every cartoon villain on Earth called — they want their jaw hair back.

Let’s revisit the Robert hip-hop number, and keep an ear (and eye) out for the neck-cracking, if you missed it the first time:

I’m technically on vacation right now, so we’re keeping this very, very short (for me.) And I’m sure hearts are breaking as I tell you that I will not be writing a reaction to the elimination Thursday night — we’ll have to commiserate or lament our lost (blank) and (blank) next week.

Lauren: Our resident “lady-dancer,” according to Adam, was upbeat and fresh in her Broadway routine with Allison. I was thrilled to finally see two girls perform together, and guest judge Toni Redpath was right — strong women are sexy. Women don’t cease to be hot when the guy leaves the room. Then Lauren made her body undulate freakishly during her foxtrot with the overdressed Adechike (seriously, a sweater vest? Lauren’s practically wearing a bathing suit.) She’s still great, and getting better.

Adechike: Having no rolling prop in the middle of the stage helped Adechike and Courtney this time — their “last call” piece a few weeks ago was a blah mess. This time the music was electrifying, though, and the dancing needed to be big, on fire, and I didn’t get that. “Manteca,” Dizzy Gillespie: perfection. The foxtrot with Lauren was solid, but no matter how hard I’ve tried I just cannot warm up to Adechike. At all. I’m going to give up, now that we’re just a couple of weeks from the finale.

Jose: I’ve got, like, three things to say about Jose, all of which you’ve heard before: he tried really hard. He’s super-sweet. And it’s time for him to go home, albeit totally proud of himself. Jose should have nailed that incredibly cool hip-hop choreographed by Marty Kudelka, but the b-boy couldn’t hit the beats, and he had no precision. In the Broadway piece with Kent, Jose’s inadequacies were further emphasized, and I’m just over it.

Kent: The choreographers of little Kent’s cha cha played to the age divide between him and his All Star Anya, and it worked in his favor. Yes, he’s manlier than at the beginning of the season, but not by that much. I agreed with the judges, though, that Kent’s Broadway was a Gene Kelly-esque eye-opener. Maybe it was just the suspenders and hat filling my brain with visions of the ’40s, but I thought his technique and flair was spot-on and derivative in the best possible way.

Robert: I teared up even before the contemporary piece with Kathryn, as soon as I heard the number was about a loved one going off to war — I’m a total sap for military themes. Thankfully the actual performances were up to the challenge, from throws to lifts to entwined limbs. Although the tortured cover of a really perky Belinda Carlisle song was a smidge distracting. Then the Bollywood routine with Billy closed out the show, and no matter how good Billy was tonight, Robert wiped the floor with him on this one. Rob’s joy was palpable, his motions more emphatic, and he just seemed to give it all up to the dance floor. Awesome.

Billy: Even if Robert out-danced young Mr. Bell in their shared Bollywood number, that doesn’t diminish what Billy was able to do, especially on a bum knee that was braced the entire show. He was up, down, up, down with perfect timing, and he was flexible, bright and lively. But the earlier contemporary piece, in which Billy was a homeless man pitted against All Star Ade’s upper-class mogul, was truly amazing. The message was embodied perfectly by the contrast in movement, but I didn’t feel like I was being preached to. Bell also has the most consistently entertaining solos on the show, period. I’m interested to see what he can do as a choreographer when he grows up.

What I learned, short version: I hate snakeskin print, even on Cat Deeley’s carefully jutted hip. We’re two weeks from the finale, and I’m exhausted, so I can’t even fathom what the actual dancers must be feeling. Otis Redding should be used every week. Stacey Tookey is coming up with the most exciting work on the show this year. And I loved Marty Kudelka and Dana Wilson’s hip-hop routine, arranged for Comfort and Adechike. Check out the choreographers themselves — Kudelka’s got a rubbery, relaxed precision and Wilson is just sick, as the kids say:

I like the fact that a show in its 7th season is a work-in-progress. It’s good for us, the viewers, because their experimenting still results in some great dancing along the way. The soloist D.J. Smart has auditioned for “SYTYCD” before, but never quite made it on the show. I find that mind-boggling, after his jawdropper of a performance. Shackled hands, movement I’ve never seen another body do, and those thighs. Wow. To go from Smart’s chiseled and athletic physicality to the American Ballet Theatre’s pas de deux from “Don Quixote” was jarring, like going from the pool to the hot tub, or vice versa. Yuriko Kajiya was exactly what ballerinas are supposed to be, she looks exactly like they’re supposed to look: like spun glass, millimeters thick, almost outside of space and time. But sweet fancy Moses, can the girl get a piece of cheesecake? I get it, ballet dancers are thin, their muscles differently developed, for the flying and the lifting and the blah blah blah. But I kept wondering which laws of physics had to be broken to keep Kajiya’s head balanced on her shoulders. Freaky-bad, not freaky-good.

What I liked (or didn’t): Loved Cat’s outfit, straight out of an Agatha Christie novel. The group number, getting better every week. Teasing us with the results “after the break” sucks on “American Idol,” and it sucks on “SYTYCD.” Boo. I’d forgotten all about the Wade Robson piece with Lauren and Neil from season 3 — I miss having Robson around all the time, even if he inserts blood curdling screams into his work. And can a contemporary dancer please-oh-please pick something upbeat to dance to during his or her solo next week? I get it, you’re tortured and have beautiful lines. No more warbling balladeers.

Since I’m nostalgic for Wade Robson, I’m sharing my very favorite routine of his — the creepy zombie-esque (Emmy winning) “Ramalama” from season 2. It was revisited on last year’s 100th episode special, and Robson performed with the original dancers. Look for All-Star Allison and choreographer Travis Wall, too.