Wednesday, 27 May 2015

Vienna 2015 – The Final

Well.  WELL.  What do we all make of that then?!  

And the winner is...
Like the rest of Europe, I’m jolly glad Sweden made it in the end. As much as I loved Russia’s A Million Voices (and my YouTube history will attest to that), Moscow 2016 was not a prospect any of us relished, given the current climate.  Better to head back to Malmö (or whichever Swedish city wins the hosting crown) for 2016 – especially given the increased likelihood of Petra Mede hosting a gay wedding and some dancing meatballs.

More on the song part of proceedings later (fun enough, albeit not a vintage selection), because I want to focus on my FAVOURITE bit of the night, when Vienna 2015 truly came into its own... 

The Scoring
AKA: AMAZING.  

Sure the scoring is always a highlight, what with the dodgy technical feeds and varied Euro-accents and haircuts on offer, but this was a veritable rollercoaster of point giving, throwing the Eurovision manual for point attribution right out the window (apart from France and the UK doing terribly, OBVZ).

WTF #1
The real shocker, of course (indeed, I’m not sure I’m over it) was Cyprus and Greece not giving each other the douze.  I mean WHAAAAAA?!?!  (My twitter went all caps for that one, such was my WTF confusion.)  I realise neither song was up to much, but that's never stopped the Cypriot-Greek lurve-in before.  It truly made me doubt the very fundamentals of civilisation as we know it.  Still, the world hasn't seemed to have stopped so we're probably ok - for now.  But if we don't get mutual douze-ing in Sweden, I'm investing in a bunker and a pig shit umbrella shield.

WTF #2
Then there was dissension in the gas ranks, as some ex-Soviet states lost the longstanding memo and didn’t bow down and hurl the 12s at Russia.  It felt particularly ouchy when Latvia snuck in a sneery ten, but Lithuania didn’t even bother with any Russian points at all.  AT ALL!!!  Ukraine must have been watching on with at least a small sense of schadenfreude.  At least Russia can always count on ‘good old’ Belarus and Azerbaijan to douze it.

WTF#3
Even the non-scoring bit of the scoring bit had its moments, and, in spite of the rest of their terrible TV work, I really enjoyed the two bitchiest Austrian presenters diving straight into the world of Eurovij Faux Pas and not even bothering to hide their disdain for gimmicky score-giving or techy issues, simply cutting any distorted feeds straight off, with no attempt at patiently waiting for the crackle to inevitably continue.  They were like a fancily dressed guillotine to wacky-shirted show-off revolutionaries - all Viennese Mean Girls.  But I see their point - we live in the era of wifi and Facetime, people!  How is your highly expensive satellite feed not working? 

Queen Conchita
But the best bit was Concheets in the Green Room, swanning in on the glamorous moral highground and protectively defending Polina from the anti-Russia boos, like a Eurovision Mother Teresa.  It must be noted that poor Polina did look very emotional and terrified at the rising fury of the crowd as she took the lead - almost like her choices in life were a) Eurogay vigilante justice, or b) her family being held on the edge of a gulag ready to be chucked in should she not win... or something.  But in stepped her Knightess in Shining Trouser-suit, la Conchita Wurst, publicly proclaiming Polina a wonderfulbeautifultalentedartist, worthy of Europe’s respect.  The subtext was clear: "back off bitches.  Yes, Putin's a homophobic dictator shit-trumpet, but my “we are UNITY” speech was a fucking Eurovij classic and certainly doesn't exclude gorgeous skinny blondes I want to swap makeup tips with".  Concheets is just the bomb, isn't she?

London Calling
And then we were treated to Nigella wonderfully showing off in three languages, trussed up and swaddled into a blouse last seen on a minor royal in the eighties, which I'd bet serious cash Concheets had her eye on.  Sure Nigella was a little nervous and shifty-eyed, but I’ll leave all that to American immigration to look into.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE CONTEST ITSELF?
Oh yes.  Believe it or not, it was Latvia who struck me most on second hearing and got my vote.  Clearly I’m a sucker for a red dress on a plinth and a song which goes: high-pitched breathy something something something, THEN SUDDENLY BELLOWS "YOUR LOOOOOOOOOOVE..."

And what about the ones we hadn’t heard before?  Over to you, Big 5, hosts and special guests, Australia...  Let's do dis.

France
A Gallic lady with something of the agony aunt about her howls in a post-apocalyptic wasteland until, eventually, some drummer boys in flesh coloured Morph outfits arrive, bringing with them some CGI garden skills.  Incredibly, France garnered a whole 5 points for this (merci Armenia and San Marino), which is an incomprehensible five more points than facial hair tribute, Moustache by Twin Twin, managed last year. 
Nul points for: I’m half-French but even I can’t defend this.

United Kingdom
Look, we only have ourselves to blame for sending charisma-lite unknowns singing a jingle and doing some scatting.  Actual scatting!  *sigh*
Douze points for: There’s still a chance for the song to redeem itself as the backdrop to a cracking charleston this Strictly.  Fingers crossed...

Australia
I was 100% pro Australia being in the contest this year, and they didn’t disappoint - taking it seriously enough to send a catchy proper pop song sung by an actual popstar, even if he was dressed like a Wimbledon linesman, with a velvet finish.  If that had been the UK, we'd have been subjected to someone out of Home and Away in the nineties warbling over a lost Stock Aitken and Waterman demo, which had been lost for a reason.
Douze points for: Of all the LED extravagance available on that giant screen, you’ve got to love a country that decides it’s street lights and Nintendo Gameboy city-by-night graphics they want up there.  Probably their budget went on the flight over.

Austria
A plinkly plonky dirgy Coldplay rip-off by... well, the styling in the band varied from 'popstar Mormon chic' to 'eighties heavy metal scarf and bleach work', via 'classic Spinal Tap', so make of that what you will.  (And yet Europe nul-point-ed it!  *fake shocked face*)
Douze points for: They did set fire to a grand piano.  Flame-work might not have been a major theme this year, but, like costume/key changes and wind machines, on-stage fire does remain a major staple of Eurovij timelessness.

Germany
Most of this song was the singer performing with her tightly lycra-clad bum to the audience, before turning around to reveal a terrifyingly low cut décolletage and boxing champ belt.  Europe remained impassive and this got a grand total of nul points, which didn’t seem entirely fair.
Douze points for: Ass work.

Spain
Poor Spain – this was worth WAY more than 15 points and a 21st place.  Why, you ask?  Well, I’ll tell you.  We start with FHM Senorita Roja Riding Hood (no black cloaks for the Big 5, we go RED) sitting on a leather clad man, who - let’s be blunt - has ample time for upskirting, as she gets up and de-hoods, whilst the wind machine cranks up to seventeen.  She’s then held back from launching herself into the audience by him grabbing her giant red train, as she waves her hands about her face a bit, before the red cape-dress is pulled off to reveal her dressed in some kind of see-through She-Ra outfit, complete with leg slit and sexy Roman lace-up drag-boots.  She then wafts around doing power poses, like she’s Storm off X-Men, before her man returns and they do some ballroom dancing and lifts (note to interested parties: he is topless).  She ends up singing from his shoulder, before pushing him away, and going back to controlling the weather.   She climaxes (THE SONG) on a bench.  How that was only three minutes is entirely beyond me.
Douze points for: You just read my review, right?

Italy
Popera from three very-well groomed Italianos, one of whom has daringly opted for plastic red-rimmed specs.  As you’d expect, the popera is all harmonised screams of “AMORE”, earnest glances and heavy guitar backing.  Europe apparently couldn’t get enough, which... surprised me.  Perhaps it was because it had something of the Vatican priests calendar about it.
Douze points for: Mr Cad, calling them Three Fivers.  BOOM BOOM.

Interval Act
If I'd been in charge we'd have had Conchita in a nun's habit doing the first 15 minutes of The Sound Of Music (all the parts).  Instead we got 15 minutes of mass drumming, though one of them did have a giant sledgehammer to bang his drum with, which was something, at least.

Then Conchita got to do not just one, but TWO of her new singles, which weren’t quite Rise Like A Pheonix-esque, but she was playing to a verrrrry friendly audience and wearing a top made out of mirrorball shards, so, you know, ALL GOOD.

So long, farewell...
And there we are – all over for another year (*sobs*), unless you’re into Junior Eurovision, which... I am not.  Sweden are an exemplary Eurovision nation, so we’ll be in fine hands there.  Let’s just hope the Big 5 don’t throw a WHY DOES NO-ONE VOTE FOR US, WE PAY FOR THIS FOR GOD’S SAKE, WE’RE GOING TO TAKE OUR BALL AWAY AND THEN SEE HOW YOU GET ON YOU CHEAPSKATE COUNTRIES OF EUROPE strop.  And I do sympathise.  I mean, wanting the UK to win isn’t even in my Top 50 reasons for loving Eurovision, but it would be nice to be able to get behind an act and song who can garner at least *some* points and give us even the merest hint of hope that we’ll get to host Birmingham or Milton Keynes 2017.   We live in Europtimism.

Anyway, thanks peeps!  I’m off to listen to the Russian entry again (shhh – don’t tell anyone).  Till next time!  Cue Te Deum.  Byeeeeeeeetc.  

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