The third day in Lisbon brought a complicated conundrum: on the one hand, if any of my never-watched-Eurovision-before-but-heard-about-it-from-me friends decided that they were going to attempt it for the first time during the second semi-final, I’d be sure to suggest a camping trip in a place with no wifi signal, because after spending all this time explaining why Eurovision is awesome, why risk ruining it with this bunch of songs? And on the other hand, if the nine rehearsals we saw today don’t scream “Eurovision” at you very loudly, then what does? Unless you’re reading this in the morning and haven’t had your coffee yet. In which case just imagine a loud whisper instead. Anyhow. Rehearsals. I don’t know what was harder, going through them or writing about them, but either way: I suffered, and I will now inflict the remnants of my emotional torment on you.

1. Norway
I can’t wait to see the Irish televote results from the day after the final. If you see that anything but Norway won the televote, know it was Johnny Logan doing his best to retain his hard-earned “Mr. Eurovision” title. Much like the semi 1 opener, the powers that be want you to know you are watching Eurovision as soon as the songs begin here, and Alexander Rybak, for all his flaws (the existence of this song included), knows the job and the audience. Not the part of the audience that includes me, but I doubt he cares. Also much like the semi 1 opener, this number is entirely as expected: taken almost as-is from the Norwegian final, the dancers seamlessly replaced with backing singers who can also dance, and bundled with Rybak’s annoying yet undeniable charisma and stage presence – he is easily one of the best-prepared returning winners we’ve had. I do feel sorry for the viewers, though. This song is so ridiculously cheesy yet so competently performed that they might accidentally set their expectations reasonably high for what’s still to come.

Running on air (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

2. Romania
If semi 1 was the Eurovision Staging Contest, semi 2 is the Eurovision – Seriously? – Contest. The first few seconds of the Romanian video are very much a “what did I just see?!” moment and, hey, so is the rest of the video too. And the moments spent re-watching the video, and the moments spent looking at every single still photo. It might be an entirely subjective thing, but I find mannequins to be super creepy. In fact, the only stage act creepier than mannequins are clowns. So there you go, I found something positive to say about the Humans’ staging: at least they didn’t bring clowns.

I spent most of my time here trying to figure out whether the performance was trying to be a rock opera version of Phantom of the Opera or Doctor Who, although not being a fan of horror movies, it could be there’s an entirely perfect cultural reference being made here that I just don’t recognize. Also, if your predictions are based on children televoting for anything in this semi line-up, you may need to rethink: they all just escaped to their bedrooms, crying and screaming. This also means that those kids’ parents are likely to miss all the songs at least until the next commercial break.

I still have no idea how the Romanian song goes, by the way. I suppose this is their way of Belarusing things up and distracting viewers from that tiny issue.

Mannequins are alive (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

3. Serbia
Between their national final and the Lisbon rehearsals, the Serbians apparently had enough time to realize that if they thought coming to Eurovision with a megamix of every Eurovision ethnofolk entry ever was a brilliant idea, not only had they got the math wrong (and it wasn’t, in fact, the year of the Donkey again), they also underestimated Montenegro’s ability to do their own Balkan Eurovision entry mash-up. Therefore they were only left with one option: sabotage. Montenegro can Balkan-ballad all they want, but Serbia is earlier in the draw and they will be sure to display every possible Balkan ESC entry choreography option, so by the time you get to Montenegro you’ll feel like you’ve watched five thousand songs like this already tonight and won’t want to televote for them.

After Beovizija I described Balkanika as the Serbian Argo with the difference that they seem they have actually been on a stage before, and I stand by that statement. In fact, I find it incredibly touching that the Serbs are not only paying tribute to the past entries of their Balkan neighbors, but have such a warm place in their heart for the Orthodox brothers in Greece that they’re happy to imitate them too. Such love, such sportsmanship.

We’re the rise in the rising sun, dance with us and have some fun (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

4. San Marino
We knew it was coming, and yet: there are robots! Robots! I actually feel cheated that Valentina isn’t performing this year instead of last year, because if anyone earned the right to perform with robots as a prop, it’s her. Either way: there are robots! Sadly for them, their humans might quite lovely, but their song is less so and they seem altogether entirely distracted by preparing for a Verka invasion. As such, the poor robots should probably program themselves to prepare to be packed into their boxes and on their way back to a life of inanimate anonymity come Friday morning. Where is Hermione Granger when you need her? She is probably done with her house elves campaign by now, so maybe she can start a campaign for robot liberation instead. And how come no country has done an entry with house elves yet? We’ve had aliens, monsters, vampires, scary animated mannequins, what is this discrimination – again – against the lovely elves working in the Hogwarts kitchens?

Although Malta is yet to rehearse, so you never know.

Robots are alive (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

5. Denmark
Yay: More subtle references to pop culture and successful TV series.
Not yay: It’s still that song!
Even less yay: Rasmussen performs it.

With so little stage presence, no wonder he’s that Viking who actually surrenders and waves the white flag. The man can barely command a Eurovision stage, how is he expected to command a Viking ship and inspire fear in his enemies? I’m sure the San Marino team are invading the Danish Viking camp as we speak and writing “will you marry me?” all over their white flags.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, least of all me, the Danish stage is blue (just as the previous four stages were, I should mention, in case that doesn’t go without saying by now). Still, I suppose if you are on a ship, a blue stage is to be expected. They do have a really nice background light transition at one point, although it does make me wonder if, when they were told to look to Iceland for a bit of Viking inspiration, their research went as far as the Greta Salóme & Jónsi backdrop and no further.

Never ever sink my ship and sail away (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

6. Russia
If I thought that the rehearsals might help clarify the Russian mega plan behind this, I am still confused. Having Julia sit on top of a projection mountain (which by this point of the day really just prompts a shrug – Eurovision business as usual) is actually not a bad way to do it if you want to make your entry less about the disability of your singer and more about her singing and the song. But there’s still that little problem of this entry lacking both.

Having hidden both her disability and her vocals successfully, the Russian delegation have at least had the sense to place some very visible backing singers on the stage, and a dance act which Julia watches from above – hence providing plenty of opportunity for the cameras to capture images that aren’t Julia, in what I imagine is an effort to minimize the chances of both the juries and the audience noticing that she’s not actually doing much of the singing.

It also effectively makes Julia her own hidden backing singer. But hey – they said last year that Julia would be here, and they’ve kept their word. They could have helped themselves with the sham if they’d had the foresight to call their act “Julia Samoylova and Friends”, or “Julia’s Magical Flying Balalaika Band”, or really anything that would truly minimize the expectation of her actually singing anything, but apparently not even the experienced Russian delegation can think of everything.

The hills are alive (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

7. Moldova
It pains me to no end to use this awful pun, but it is indeed a lucky day for Moldova. Not only they are in the second semi-final, with all those – gah – songs around them, but what they too lack in the song department, they make up for actually coming across like their concept emerged from a creative process and not from drawing random words out of a hat. This is Fokas Evangelinos doing what he does best – a well thought-out, clever routine performed with gusto and sincere glee that is sure to remind anyone in Europe who isn’t a jaded grouch like me why they love cheese. To be honest, considering the songs that come before and after it, it stands out like a mountain on a Eurovision stage to such an extent that even I might start supporting it, because what else am I going to support? At least I have strong Moldovan roots. That’s a valid excuse, right? The only problem for Moldova is that the majority of their target audience has been chased away earlier in the line-up by Romania, of all delegations. With friends like that…

It’s stronger than me, my gravity (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

8. Netherlands
Speaking of things that pain me to no end: absolutely everything about this.

Here’s the thing: yes, I know I wasn’t particularly friendly to Waylon in my review of the entry, but just look at my Moldovan rehearsal review. I give credit where credit’s due. I am willing to look past my personal feelings for a song or its performer when other elements in the package really help to lift it overall and make it better in other ways, even if I’m still not keen on the song itself. So I was open to all possibilities here, really.

And then I saw Waylon’s rehearsal clip. Let’s put it this way: yes, I know we keep saying that it’s just a first rehearsal and there are many things we can’t judge at this point. Fine. But when your fashion sense tells you a tiger-patterned jacket is a good idea and your staging concept basically equates to jumping around like madmen, let’s just say that it doesn’t inspire much confidence in the rehearsals to come. Sorry, Marta and Vaclav, sometimes hope does die. Painfully.

Now all the questions and no direction, they make our reasons…insane (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

9. Australia
Things that aren’t working brilliantly for Australia: a very nice but generic girl sings (nicely and joyfully) a very nice but generic song, surrounded by a very nice but generic staging.
Things that are definitely working for Australia: they’re after the Netherlands, which would make anyone, even someone not as lovely and happy and friendly as Jessica, look classy by comparison.

I suppose that’s what the Belgians got wrong: it’s not a matter of time. It’s all a matter of context.

Dancing through an ancient dreaming (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

Coming up: the fourth day of Eurovision context, where my resolve as a Eurovision fan will be put to the test once again. I have pastries. I can deal. Bring it.