“Four points! Four @#&%ing points!! How ungrateful” This was a friend’s reaction to the points awarded to the UK by Ukraine last night.
My young nephew tried to point out that they were scoring the song not voting whether it was nice of us to host the thing because Ukraine couldn’t. The regional juries voting for the song? How naive of him.
As it turned out, this was one of the larger scores of the evening for the UK.
There was the usual buddy voting due to geographical closeness and countries not voting for those they dislike (reference UK again – well this is a European event and despite our efforts to support Ukraine on the battlefield we are still widely loathed by many who still cannot accept the result of the referendum seven years ago).
It’s horribly expensive to hold this contest and fortunately the producers of the show ensured that wouldn’t happen again this year. We were told that lots were drawn to see which songs went into the first half and which into the second. It was then up to the producers to sort out the order. The UK was out last of 26. Add to that wild graphics on the digital wonderwall, ensuring that poor Mae Muller was almost rooted to the spot so they interacted around her, made this feel like a bit of a slog at the end of a long night and dare I say, rather flat.
Had she been allowed to bounce her undoubted energy and verve down the catwalk like others could, it might have grabbed more attention.
It has been suggested that the fact that she is backed by a major record label influenced the voting. Perhaps, for the juries, but the public vote was largely absent too.
So the UK finished next to last. Phew! Only Germany scored fewer points than us. A heavy-metal offering (parody?) in which it was aggressively screamed that the singer was so happy that they could die. Not perhaps the best choice of words bearing in mind the events in Europe at the moment.
Everyone raved about the staging and presentation. It was good but could have been any Eurovision stage in any country.
The fact that English (or at least a version of it) was the first language of three of the four presenters helped. All four, however, were professional and well rehearsed. Any little errors allowed their personalities to shine through. The Ukrainian woman showed a combination of festivity and sadness. I think everyone at some stage of the evening just wanted to give her a big hug. The team made it all about the show and the artists, not about them. A job well done.
Contrast this to previous shows where presenters have been forced to try and be funny in their non-native language. The joke often falls flat so they over compensate by clowning around. Just allow them to be themselves, for the love of God. I would rather not understand the words than see them die on stage.
At times, Mel Giedroyc, took over duties in the commentator’s booth. This worked rather well but she must learn not to mumble over the presenters. This was particularly noticeable during the voting when it was hard to know if we should tune our ears in to her or to those speaking on stage. Perhaps her microphone simply needed to be a bit louder.
We are told that Liverpool, best known most recently and perhaps unfairly for booing the National Anthem on Coronation Day, took Eurovision to their hearts and were the best of hosts. I don’t doubt it. I have always found the warmest of welcomes in that great city.
The interval acts included previous Eurovision acts singing the Liverpool Songbook. It didn’t work. Good songs were generally slaughtered. The singalong of You’ll Never Walk Alone, a message for Ukraine, went some way to rescuing that segment.
“Why do we bother?”, was another cry in my house last night. I suggest, like a mountain, because it is there. Eurovision gives the illusion of all countries getting along famously, until the voting of course.
A bit bewildered 