Euro-bysmal

The Eurovision Song Contest.

Yeah.

So, I guess we’ll start with the good. It was a pretty good show last night, with some fun songs and some…fun-to-hate. As usual, the hosts and, in particular, the green room presenters, were strange and slightly irritating. As usual, Terry Wogan was priceless in the commentator’s chair. What an absolute legend. (I won’t comment on the frankly brilliant suggestion of Wogan as the Eleventh Doctor…)

There were songs I genuinely liked; Iceland, for example, were catchy and exciting while being bland enough to appeal to everyone – at least, so I thought when I foolishly predicted them to win. I really, really should have known better. I blame it on alcohol. I also enjoyed the Armenian entry, which did rather better. I thought it was much more fun than the one-woman Ruslana rip-off that was Ani Lorak’s Ukrainian runner-up (the woman couldn’t really sing, but she didn’t need to, looking like she did), but fourth was a more than respectable finish.

And believe it or not, after having avoided it in the build-up to the final, I actually really enjoyed Andy Abraham’s UK entry. Wogan was right when he said it was our best in years, and I think the fact that it tied with the terrible Polish and German entries proves that the contest is almost entirely decided on politics rather than the music, which is a terrible shame. I was surprised when I heard Wogan suggest that there might be a Western breakaway in a not-too-distant future, but thinking about it it seems more and more accurate a prediction. I’d have mixed feelings about it – it’d be a real shame not to have all of Europe participating – but at least it might be fairer.

Speaking of predictions, I did rather better on others. Though I had quite enjoyed it myself, I guessed that the quirky French entry from Sebastien Tellier might find itself with the dreaded nul points, and though I wasn’t spot on, I took its relative failure as a minor success for me.  I was delighted to be vindicated in my assertion that highly-fancied Charlotte Perrelli (who, in the grey light at the start of her set, looks exactly like the life-sucking Wraith from Stargate Atlantis) bombed completely.

A mention has to go to Azerbaijan, whose painfully shrieking devil-and-angels mess was by far the worst song on the night and one of the worst in Eurovision for a long time, and yet somehow managed to garner over 100 points. Astonishing! (in a bad way.)

Finally, the top 3. It should have been obvious that Russia would win. Their song was pretty poor but inoffensive, with a handsome singer and famous skater (who knew Jurgen Klinnsmann could dance on ice?) to promote it. And, of course, the Eastern bloc got down on its knees and worshipped the fatherland like crazy. It was a crap winner, but at least it wasn’t Greece. Good god! How did that girl manage third, keeping pace with Russia for as long as she did? I nearly puked watching her performance, a tired, lazy cash-in on a mildly pretty (but out-of-place) singer, with utterly silly lyrics and an uncomfortably sweet tone. It was truly horrible, and I was actually mildly offended that it did as well as it did.

Eurovision, eh? I hate – hate - to love it.