[ LEICESTER ] flat group fee — never per headhen parties · weekly classes · first dances
Leicester Dance Centrenow booking hen season
[ Theme No. 09 on the programme ] the graveyard slot

Thriller hen party dance class Leicester [ midnight showing · leicester screen two ]

The shoulder roll, the claw, the long diagonal line and the head snap — the shapes everybody half-recognises, drilled until a whole room lands them on the same count. One private room, one written quote containing the hired room's venue cost, and one flat figure: £185 for the ninety minutes we recommend, or £160 plus venue for sixty.

Thriller hen party dance class in Leicester holding the claw pose
From a recent midnight showing

Ten people,
one head snap

The diagonal, held on the last beat while every phone in the room catches up. It is where this booking always ends.

[ still · torn shirts, borrowed glove ]
[ Ticket office ]

Claim the slot before October eats it

An approximate date and an approximate headcount is everything the desk needs to start. A phone call follows inside the day — honest availability first, then one written total that has already swallowed the room cost. Late October goes first and goes fast on this theme, though a hen party dance class in the middle of June plays every bit as well.

Holding a date is not the same as settling the theme. A hen do dance class keeps the slot while the details get argued over, and the theme sitting on a dance hen party can be switched weeks afterwards without penalty. Nobody in the room needs to have danced before, which removes the single objection that kills most hen party ideas outright, and among all the hen party activities on the table this one asks nothing of anybody's fitness that a flight of stairs does not.

[ Graveyard desk ]

Six lines and it is with a human. No forms behind the form.

A person reads it and phones back within the day.

[ Act one ] how the ninety minutes run

The famous bits, made survivable

This is the rare theme where the party already knows what it wants: the shapes off the video, done together, badly enough to be funny and well enough to be posted. So that is where the time goes. The shoulder roll, the claw hands, the head snap and the long line get real attention, because those are the things a camera picks up from the other side of a room. The quicker footwork underneath gets thinned out, on the principle that fifteen people hitting one shape beats four people hitting five shapes while everybody else guesses.

Nothing is pre-blocked before the door opens. The teacher builds her own version of it in the room after reading who is nervous, who is already pulling a face, and who quietly did years of street dance and has said nothing about it. That is why a party of total beginners and a party carrying a ringer both walk out with something that suited them rather than something off a shelf.

At ninety there is room for a second section, a genuine set-piece ending, and time to go again if the first take was a mess. Sixty minutes is enough for a warm-up, the recognisable sequence drilled until it holds, and a finish worth pointing a phone at. No filming happens from our side; whatever exists afterwards exists because somebody in your party held a phone up.

The zombie shapes only look menacing when they are loose and heavy — a dropped shoulder, a dragging foot, a head snap landing bang on the count — and a room still trying to remember the order looks stiff rather than undead. An extra half hour lets the order sink in, so the long diagonal line can stop concentrating and start lurching properly.

Asking for something specific is encouraged. Say it at the desk and the teacher works out where it can sit.

[ The soundtrack sheet ] auditioning, not promised

Five tracks audition; the room in front casts them

[ T1 ]

Thrillerthe reason you are here — slow, heavy shapes that flatter absolutely everyone

likely lead
[ T2 ]

Beat Itsharper and straighter; the half of the room with something to prove asks for it

strong contender
[ T3 ]

Smooth Criminalthe lean gets attempted, the lean gets abandoned, the lean gets filmed anyway

if the nerve holds
[ T4 ]

Billie Jeanone clean shape per phrase — kind to knees, brutal on timing

near-certain
[ T5 ]

Badclosing-shot material; ends on a line that photographs itself

the credits

Read it as a shortlist. What actually gets danced is decided in front of the people who walked through the door, and no fixed programme is promised beforehand.

[ one of them already playing? ]Write it in the message box and it gets a hearing.

Graveyard desk, please ↑
Hen party rehearsing Thriller choreography at a dance class in Leicester
[ Act two ] the day around it

Where the midnight showing sits in a Leicester day

The room sits centrally for a reason. Food first, the class in the middle of the afternoon while knees are still on side, then a walk over towards the Market or a slow loop through Victoria Park if the weather is being kind, with the routine getting re-performed on every pavement between the two. Parties come in from Melton Mowbray, Hinckley and Market Harborough without anybody drawing up a driving rota.

Everything worn is your own. We hand out nothing — no jackets, no gloves, no face paint, no torn shirts — and the split rooms, where half arrive as zombies and half in red with a single white glove, are consistently the best-looking bookings of the lot. Come in joggers instead and the class does not change by a single count; the photographs simply do.

The address lands in writing at confirmation. Nobody is left waiting on a message at ten on the morning itself.

[ Audience reviews ] graveyard desk

Two stubs from the late house

"We wanted the shoulder roll and the claw and we got both, drilled until ten people did them at once. The teacher pulled the fiddly bits out and kept the parts that actually read on camera, which was exactly the right call."
Bridesmaid · party of 10 · the Market afterwards
"Booked it in June with no Halloween anywhere near it and it still landed. One written total including the room, ninety minutes that went by in about nine, and my knees survived because I was told early which bit to skip."
Mother of the bride · party of 15 · in from Melton Mowbray
[ Front of house ] graveyard desk

Six questions, straight answers

The seventh is usually whether anyone has to do the voice at the end — ring 07535 351968 and ask a human. Nobody has to. Somebody always does.

What does the graveyard slot cost the party? +

Nobody is charged individually; the party pays a single amount between them. Against that sits the hired room's venue cost, and the two numbers — £185 for ninety minutes, £160 for sixty — arrive together in writing. What a room costs depends on the date, and extras such as parking can be added, so we put the whole thing in writing rather than guessing on a call.

Which Leicester room hosts the midnight showing? +

The booking sits in a central Leicester room we hire for you and nobody else, and the address arrives in writing at the point of confirmation. It is a short walk from the Market for whatever the evening becomes.

How close to the original video does it get? +

Close on everything people recognise — the shoulder roll, the claw, the head snap, the diagonal line. The tighter footwork is simplified so the whole party lands it together instead of four people managing it.

Zombie make-up or the red jacket, then? +

Either, and split rooms are common. Nothing is handed out at the door — no costumes, no gloves, no face paint — so it is your own raid on the charity shops, which is reliably the bit groups enjoy planning.

Is this a Halloween-only booking or year-round? +

Year-round. A June booking gets the identical class. Late October simply fills earliest, so a date near Halloween is worth holding well ahead rather than hoping.

What if half the party cannot count to eight? +

That is most parties. The shapes that matter here are slow and heavy rather than quick, no dance experience is assumed anywhere in the group, and stepping out for a section bothers nobody.