I don’t watch the Eurovision Song Contest, as a rule. I don’t get the appeal of bad-to-bland music and all those unnerving flags littering the scene. But I have nothing else to write about tonight, so… The opening ceremony goes from being quite spiritual to some kind of practical-effects tribute to Tron and then back again, and weirdly synchronised announcements lend a cultish feel to the proceedings. Graham Norton interjects with… well to call them facts might be overly generous… but apparently the pattern paisley was invented in Azerbaijan. Incidentally I spelt that right first time. Paisley that is, I had an h in Azerbaijan.
AND THEN…
United Kingdom: Love Will Set You Free performed by Englebert Humperdink
An inoffensive song, but sung by Englebert Humperdink who has an offensively bad name to go with his offensively bad hair, and carrying the fear he might die of cultural inertia from the collective disinterest of the British Isles.
* * *
Hungary: Sound of Our Hearts performed by Comeback Disco
An electronica ballad performed by, seemingly, an aging boy band with a token female backing singer. They seem earnest, but in a way which makes me wonder if they’ve really listened to what they’re saying.
* * *
Albania: Suus performed by Rona Nishliu
A cross between Björk and Regina Spektor, inasmuch as I had no idea what she was singing, but I didn’t really mind and quite liked it. Weirdly overacted in places though.
* * *
Lithuania: Love is Blind performed by Donny Montell
He’s wearing a blindfold for such complicated artistic symbolism that it might require a whole separate post to properly explore. I’d have rather liked it if everyone had hidden before he took it off
* * *
Bosnia & Herzegovina: Korake Ti Znam performed by Maya Sar
Blonde Cher with an overwrought dress, an overwrought light show and an overwrought song.
* * *
Russia: Party for Everybody performed by Buranovskiye Babushki
That was just creepy, then terrifying. There was one moment where one of the old ladies was chasing the camera around which reminded me of Don’t Look Now.
* * *
Iceland: Mundu Eftir Mér performed by Greta Salóme & Jónsi
Boring.
* * *
Cyprus: La La Love performed by Ivi Adamou
I loved the desk made of books, and I’m biased towards my quarter-countrymen, but the song’s pretty forgettable in spite of Ivi Adamou eye-fucking the camera.
* * *
France: Echo (You And I) performed by Anggun
I really hope none of the gymnasts borrowed from the French Olympic team injure themselves at Eurovision. That would be embarrassing. Anggun’s wearing a lovely dress (a special piece designed by Jean Paul Gaultier. The song? Yeah, it was alright.
* * *
Italy: L’Amore E’ Femmina performed by Nina Zilli
Wow, they weren’t kidding when they said she was reminiscent of Amy Winehouse. She also looks a bit like Kat Denning around the mouth… Italy’s first genetically engineered entry perhaps?
* * *
Estonia: Kuula performed by Ott Lepland
A nice enough song and a really good voice, but I’m sure he was slipping insults into the ends of lines. And Ott claps with one clenched fist.
* * *
Norway: Stay performed performed by Tooji
All I can hear is Satisfaction, and not the (I can’t get no) version. This one…
* * *
Azerbaijan: When The Music Dies performed by Sabina Babayeva
Surprisingly sultry at the outset it changes tack to soaring when they bring in the wailing man from the opening performance. I quite liked it.
* * *
Romania: Zaleilah performed by Mandinga
This is the height of pointless kitsch and an awkward juxtaposition of musical elements and influences, so it’s a natural fit for Eurovision. I use the word juxtaposition too often.
* * *
Denmark: Should’ve Known Better performed by Soluna Somay
A former busker in an awesome hat and jacket, Soluna Somay doesn’t belong in the competition because the song is actually bearable, and potentially something that wouldn’t make me crash a car in the hopes it would be quicker than turning off the radio.
* * *
Greece: Aphrodisiac performed by Eleftheria Eleftheriou
An adequate pop arrangement with unoriginal non-sequiturs about a pretty girl with an unimaginative name wanting to have sex with her audience. They will, the plan must go, vote for the song and weird line-dancing in the hopes that this might actually be the case.
* * *
Sweden: Euphoria performed by Loreen
I think Loreen is trying to kill the audience with her intermittently violent tai-chi dancing, strobe lighting and her eyes. Great voice though.
* * *
Turkey: Love Me Back performed by Can Bonomo
Not at all a threatening title for a song, but Can’s brought a posse of uncowled nautical Batmen to reinforce the subtext. It’s like a high camp sea shanty from a musical that played to empty rooms night after night at the Fringe.
* * *
Spain: Quédate Conmigo performed by Pastora Soler
It’s all starting to blur together, is this an Evanescence song without guitars, have I heard it before? Pastora Soler has a beautiful voice, but the song is standard sincere ballad and the toga-bra will never catch on.
* * *
Germany: Standing Still performed by Roman Lob
Written by Jamie Cullum (whom I once heard referred to as “a fat-fingered jazz troll”) and a couple of other people whose names I didn’t catch, Standing Still is the music that would accompany the heartbreak before the reunion in a formulaic romantic comedy. This is not a compliment, and it was me that called Jamie Cullum a fat-fingered jazz troll. Unnecessary, but amusing at the time. I apologise.
* * *
Malta: This Is The Night performed by Kurt Calleja
The spinning camera is presumably a trick to stop the audience noticing that Mr. Calleja is wearing one yellow fingerless glove… But he works in renewable energy by day, so I can try to overlook that.
* * *
F.Y.R. Macedonia: Crno I Belo performed by Kaliopi
I like the electronic violin and double bass and the guitarist’s waistcoat. Kaliopi has a really lovely voice but the beat is tedious as hell and overpowering.
* * *
Ireland: Waterline performed by Jedward
Village idiots have seldom been quite this stupid, but the genetically atavistic twins who represent a true culture nadir won’t go away. At least in this they look as daft as they might actually be, dressed as space knights from a particularly low budget sci-fi matinee.
Serbia: Nije Ljubav Stvar performed by Zeljko Joksimovic
I know it’s only because he’s following Jedward, but I could comfortably ignore this. The majority of the music is actually pretty good. I just wish there was less singing.
* * *
Ukraine: Be My Guest performed by Gaitana
A truly baffling song in the finest tradition of Eurovision, this is nonsensical and psychedelically coloured gibberish with its backing dancers in fairly garish, semi-drag. Not Disney.
* * *
Moldova: Lautar performed by Pasha Parfeny
The cheeky gardener strikes again. What the hell is he doing with his hands? Is he really saying “this trumpet makes you mine girl”? Why is the line not always followed by a trumpet? This is actually odder in almost every regard than the Ukrainian entry.
* * *
AND THEN…
The pretty presenters and Azerbaijanian Wil Wheaton (also pretty) say we can vote. I won’t. Wait, don’t show me clips of all the songs again… NOOOOOOO!!!
I passed out at this point but awoke briefly when Azerbaijan was referred to as “the land of fire”, which can’t be safe with all that oil around, before returning to the dead eyed fugue with which I watched the last 14 songs.
The interval performance proves that bombast can also be boring, even if you dress your dancers like Starfleet officers, and if you kiss a flag I’m going to distrust and dislike you… In some ways the Eurovision is a forum in which the countries involved air a year’s worth of casual racism, with the British commentator making bitchy remarks about every song and every country’s representatives but their own. It’s a process I’m sure is repeated in the coverage for every participating nation and which can’t be hidden when the votes come in. Whilst it’s not as funny with a sober Graham Norton as I remember it being with a hammered Terry Wogan they can usually be to relied upon to “predict” the usual favouritisms and nepotisms and laugh bitterly when the inevitable twelve points are announced. Greece gets the first set of top marks, which must terrify them because hosting the contest next year would actually bankrupt them. I’d laugh a little, and then feel bad about it, so I’m watching them bounce on and off the top spot. This provides some actual weight to the competition’s result, even if that’s between disaster and irrelevance, but that looks like it’s fast becoming an increasingly remote possibility. Greece’s economic downfall will not be laid at the feet of Eleftheria Eleftheriou. Scott Mills is one of the few monoglots presenting scores, which is embarrassing, but not as bad as crowbarring in a mention of the Olympics… Sweden’s votes are revealed by a woman who looks like she might be the Sarah Millican of ten years hence, only with a different-but-still-English accent. It’s a highlight, but not as funny as watching Englebert Humperdick trail for almost the entire evening. It’ll be blamed on his being the first act to perform, but it can’t have helped that it wasn’t an interesting song. So Britain may have lost, hilariously badly, but the real winners are those who didn’t waste 3½ hours watching the damned Eurovison Song Contest, or those who did so surround by copious amounts of friends and even copiouser amounts of alcohol. And Loreen.

Picture the scene: A casting call has gone out for actors and extras, the main criteria being their ability to perform prolonged death throes and a willingness to wear squibs. At least, I’m assuming that there was a call for extras, because surely no single country could possibly have as many stuntmen as The Raid must have needed… I went to see the film under protest, because whilst I don’t particularly enjoy brutal violence, and because I have little to no interest in seeing The Dictator, I know someone who does enjoy the former and was willing to pay to avoid the latter. So, whilst it was no surprise that film was fairly relentless in its use of bone-crunching violence and gouts of gore, none of it was done with the voyeuristic glee or sadism that I might have been expecting. By the measure of the times it’s almost tame, and used the juxtaposition of its fast-paced fight scenes to those few quieter ones to add a note of pathos to the violence which was being presented as more than strict survivalist struggle, those fights which had a particular meaning within the narrative.

















“There’s nothing offensively bad in Dark Shadows…” This was my tellingly off-the-cuff review of the film in response to a friend’s casual question. I also caveated this estimation immediately: “except the overt sexualisation of a fifteen year old character played by a similarly aged actor.” If the damnation of faint praise is bad, the damnation of qualified indifference is surely worse? It was, as fans of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp’s shared oeuvre will be glad to hear, very Burton-esque and chock full of Deppisms too. But these elements have passed from being staples of the pair’s work and become tired and overfamiliar. The film sees Johnny Depp playing Tim Burton’s “Johnny Depp character” in a very “Tim Burton and Johnny Depp collaborating” Tim Burton film. So, really, you already know whether you want to see Dark Shadows or not.

The becalmed skies and clement weather felt wrong, not fit for wicked purpose, for the horrible task which had brought them together. Only the moon seemed to fit, waxing and radiant casting its pallid light and leaving pale shadows in its absences. It had been nearly twenty since they had gathered last, the shame of that meeting making the commonplace and incidental occasions where their paths crossed by day guilt-ridden and awkward. These three elders, the village priest, the mayor and the doctor, taking the heredity roles their parents had left them, the heavy responsibilities that they could never bear to speak of. The villagers knew, of course, they were all complicit in lesser ways, less direct ways. But the final decision always fell to the elders.