Everyone expected Ukraine to win Eurovision, Ukraine had to win Eurovision, Ukraine won Eurovision. It was at the end of a suspense as unbearable as a lukewarm footbath that the verdict fell, on the night of Saturday to Sunday, shortly after 1 a.m.: while the country at war was only in fourth position in the ranking with 192 points according to the jury’s vote, behind the United Kingdom, Sweden and Spain, the public vote ended up catapulting him far, far ahead of the competition. At the end of this 66th edition of the competition, which swung its avalanche of decibels and glitter from the Pala Olimpico in Turin, the Ukrainians of Kalush Orchestra and their song Stefania will therefore have capped everyone at the post with their unsurpassable total of 631 points – ahead of the Briton Sam Ryder and his space man (466 points) and the Spanish Chanel with Slo-Mo (459 points).
“Our courage impresses the world, our music conquers Europe”, reacted Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky on Facebook. Russia was excluded from the competition the day after its invasion at the end of February.
There will surely be some to lament that politics came to mingle with art that evening, and it is true that certain performances were artistically more deserving than this strange combo formed on the theme “Ukraine, between tradition and modernity” around a faux-Eminem in a pink angora wool bob flanked by a typical singer playing a typical flute (the tylynka, a flute without holes) and some quite amusing acolytes such as these two beings covered with dreadlocks from wool or this breakdancer apparently completely tattooed but in fact it was only a combination.
“Political” vote, perhaps, but oh! that we are grateful to Kalush Orchestra for having given us what we expect from a performance at Eurovision, namely: an aggregate of anything Kamoulox style, three minutes that eat at fifteen racks, jumps in all directions and a rotating double bass. Because oh! that we got bored during this long evening made bearable only by the massive consumption of crisps and the bad spirit of our neighbors on the couch.
Micro Fringe and Heart with Fingers
However, everything had started off with a bang, intro in the street with singing onlookers wearing bluetooth headphones, neon dance, incredible medley by Laura Pausini changing cape with each new piece, striking finale, Laura screaming in a fringe microphone (a fringe microphone!), surrounded by dancers in virtual reality goggles and red latex gloves, arm choreos, jubilation. The possibility also that, perhaps, at some point, war obliges, there would be a micro-accident, a transgression of the sacrosanct rule of Eurovision “cultural competition” and not political, transgression liable to sanctions… all this could promise, perhaps, a semblance of spice.
But it is in vain that we have looked for double meanings or any allusions to real life. Apart from the main concerned who dared to “Please help Mariupol, help Azovstal”, we found three very small blue and yellow stickers on the guitars of the Icelandic neo-hippies-too-chic from Systur. On the other hand, repeated calls for love: we must love each other, love is stronger, heart with fingers, flags-hearts. Total love, sidereal emptiness. Just an evocation of the health crisis, with a Serb who compulsively washes her hands in a basin, and perhaps, pulling by her hair, winks at global warming in the decor: here a David by Michel -Angel in 3D that melts, a scene that liquefies, there chairs that melt even more…
Bowls of fire and cap with pompoms
And Belgians who sound like Australians who sound like Swedes who sound like Azerbaijanis who sound like Germans, namely disposable sponges to globalized pop, a little soulful, a little r’n’b, a little intense, vaguely realistic, impeccable English, zero soul. In this ocean neither too hot nor too cold, let’s praise the efforts of the Ukrainians who provided the competition last year with a few minutes of fluty madness. Thanks to Brittany also for its basins of fire and its incandescent triskel, its excess of eyeliner and its flash of tecktonik in the darkness (darkness of the ranking too, alas, since Alvan and Ahez finish in the penultimate place, leaving France once again at the bottom of the table).
Thank you very much to all those who continue to keep the sequin industry alive, those who perpetuate the bullfighting spirit, even if they are Romanian. Thanks to Chanel, the Spanish singer who had forgotten to put on pants and who, flanked by young men and young women molded and oiled by angels, delivered her vision of love in a choreography mixing extremes, threat of fertility , promise of sequestration, a slap offered for a caress purchased. And a hundred times thank you to Moldova for having fulfilled the contract of a successful Eurovision by provoking the coitus of the Ramones and an accordion to give birth to a cap with pompoms. The public was not mistaken, awarding Zdob şi Zdub & Advahov Brothers and their exquisite musical abomination the best comeback of the competition (from 14 to 253 points, from 20th to 7th place). Eurovision is never as good as when it’s a parallel world.