The best news to come out of the semi-finalists’ final day of individual rehearsals is that I don’t have to deal with the second semi again until at least Wednesday. If it was such an effort to go through short clips of an incomplete line-up (as the first five entries rehearsed yesterday), I don’t want to know what it’ll be like to sit through this on Thursday. I’m almost glad I’m going to be watching it at the office – it might be the only time during the two weeks of the Eurovision distraction from real life that I’ll be motivated to get some actual work done.

Anyhow, no such luck today because it’s the weekend, in which – or so I’ve heard – people are supposed to have fun and relax, except Shi who has to find words to describe the semi 2 performances.

As always, this is your coffee and pastry warning before this rather lengthy read. However, I did decide to make an exception today and provide a short summary of this rehearsal review for anyone who doesn’t feel like dealing with this semi (I can’t blame you, so I will not be offended): They’re all lucky to be in semi 2 and not semi 1. That is all.

6. Russia
Yeah, start with the hard stuff, won’t you. For what it’s worth, after much debate over the last few weeks, I think I figured out what’s the story behind this entry. No elves, trolls, goblins or whatever other mystical creatures may live below mountains in faraway lands, but an actual attempt to guess at the events that led us to this point in time.

I’m going to assume that when Russian television approached Julia for the purposes of (not) performing in Eurovision last year, there were some sort of binding legal documents involved, forcing the Russians to keep their word this year. I also assume that said legal documents promised that Julia would be credited as the main performer, but there was no legal language regarding how exactly that would work.

Knowing the extent of both Julia’s singing talent and her screen likability (not much), the delegation has done what every responsible delegation should do: tried to figure out how to get the most out of the situation in a way that best serves their interests.

First, there was the matter of the song. The approach was simple: something not entirely atrocious, within the constraints of a minimal budget. Because it might be Russia, but even they know some things you can’t win with, and you might as well save your money for other things.

Then they came up with a staging that would be passable visually and allow them the flexibility to hide the shortcomings of this entry as much as they possibly can. It might be a throwaway year, but it still has the Russian flag on it – and hey, maybe we don’t really have a lead singer, but we brought five other people who are actually good at their profession of choice. Look at them instead!

The bottom line is a result that is probably more ridiculous to us fans knowing the backstory, but also not the most ridiculous thing that viewers have ever seen at Eurovision, which offers enough of a gray zone for the Russians to live in denial of how bad this really is. If they accidentally still qualify because they’re in semi 2? Great. Mission accomplished, and they can go on to Saturday, get a crappy result – which happened to them before – and forget this chapter of Russian Eurovision history ever happened. If they don’t qualify? Well, they will find a way to spin it into PR. A win/win situation from an entry with the budget of Moldova in a non-Kirkorov year. It could be worse (for them. For us, not so much).

Go go go wild dancers (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

7. Moldova
After all the build-up of rehearsal reports, and having spent so many words on Russia, I actually have little to say about this proxy Russian entry (including a more Russian and less Moldovan budget, because Kirkorov). As expected, it’s professional and slick and they are super likable. But the overall look of it, as clever as the choreography is, does make it look like it’s a remastered video recording from a 1987 national final.

Granted, that’s not surprising when this year’s theme is “all aboard” which is actually short for “all aboard the retro Eurovision cruise and relive all your favorite Eurovision memories”, but still, it feels so outdated that it really is a good reminder of how everything has a right place and time: in the low budget horror movie that is this semi-final, Moldova still comes across as one of the very few acts who made a real effort.

Through my window (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

8. Netherlands
Despite being a leading contender for the “world’s worst jacket” award, Waylon comes across as someone who actually does what he does for a living. Hey, being a country tribute act is an entirely respectable career choice! It still looks as fake as it can possibly be, but in this semi-final, having a song with reasonable enough music relevance and concept that more or less works for the song is probably enough to make it through to the final – where the only thing he will win is that coveted jacket award, as the other candidates for the title are extremely unlikely to qualify.

Party for everybody, dance! (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

9. Australia
As much as I adore Jessica and her enthusiasm, today was…. not great. After last year – result aside – I thought the Aussies were beginning to figure out how that whole staging for Eurovision thing works and that it isn’t just “oh, we can just do whatever Jess usually does when she performs on live television”. For something that was considered by many as a potential winning candidate if it was staged right, “We Got Love” is now much closer to being Sofi Marinova than being in the top 5.

I don’t know what the Australians can do at this point to make this work, to be honest, except hoping that a decent mainstream song with a likable performance is enough in this semi.

Long live love (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

10. Georgia
I want this to qualify so badly. I know how much of a niche song this is, and in a foreign language at that, but it’s also a deserted island of musicality and harmony with sympathetic performers who are excellent at this whole singing ethno-jazz in Georgian thing, and they have a simple but effective presentation and a pyro curtain – because we all love pyro curtains – at exactly the right moment.

Three minutes of blessed sanity.

Three minutes, gotta go, bye bye (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

11. Poland
How much did I not pay attention to this song this season, on a scale to 1 to seriously? The Singer is Swedish? I had no idea!

Not that it matters. I just accidentally hovered over his name on Wikipedia and was momentarily confused. That aside, he’s still adorable. He still can’t really sing, so I am slightly confused at why he was ever chosen as a featured vocalist, although perhaps “he is adorable and can sing a bit” is a legitimate reason.

There’s a straightforward kind of staging here that is unexciting but perfectly acceptable and does work with the song, and it has lots of pyros and because I’m a pyromaniac and extremely easy to distract it made me happy enough to want to rewatch it. The side-effect of this was that I managed to remember how the song sounds for about an extra five minutes! Talk about progress. And that’s how you stage a song.

Time to party (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

12. Malta
Do I really have to? It’s even scarier when you have some proper camerawork. And makes even less sense than what I initially thought.

So, you know, Malta. Nothing new to see here.

Afrika paprika (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

13. Hungary
If there’s a song this year where staging matters the least, it’s this. It’s just so out there doing its very specific thing, that there are very few staging decisions that would impact the way this will be received by viewers and juries, and they’d have to be some pretty extreme choices.

I would, however, if I were the Hungarian stylist, do something about the lead singer’s hair. No matter the musical style, in a televised performance like this it might be nice to see his eyes from time to time.

Eyes that never lie (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

14. Latvia
After a few days of heated debate, I have decided that Franka is the winner of this year’s best lace dress award, having only narrowly beaten Laura here.

This doesn’t work as well as I felt it could based on the previous photos and videos. There is a bit of a red overload here, and much like the other decisions in the way this song is performed and presented, I don’t understand what purpose it serves, because it definitely doesn’t serve the song itself.

Of course, it’s semi 2, so it easily looks like one of the most competent and well performed entries in this semi. As always: context is important – which is ironic because given the staging of this song I am not sure the word “context” even exists in Latvian.

Go crazy for your love (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

15. Sweden
Ugh.

I get that delegations are allowed to bring props with them. I was never one to complain too much about the gaps between delegations in terms of budget and that not everyone can afford expensive props, and even if it might be a nice idea to perhaps have a budget cap or something like that, I do think even countries with less money in the bank can be competitive and do great things with less cash but the right creative team.

But I do believe there should be some sort of a baseline that can level the field a little bit and make sure all the teams have at least a similar starting point. So if every year the host country spends a lot of money to build a stage, how about a requirement of all countries to at least show the stage once in a while? Think Sweden again, but with “Heroes”. It still used a fair amount of expensive trickery, but at least it panned back occasionally so you knew where you were.

We could be the same (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

16. Montenegro
Are we sure this is not a parody of Balkan ballads at Eurovision?

Ovo je Balkan (Eurovision.tv / Thomas Hanses)

17. Slovenia
The majority of the reviews I have seen of Slovenia focused on how unnecessary and confusing the fake break is. I haven’t seen it myself, although I am certain it is indeed as unnecessary as they claim it is. The thing is, though, that I doubt it will have any sort of impact on the end result. “Hvala, ne” is still a non-song, and if you noticed that then you are unlikely to vote for it, no matter how brilliant Lea is at performing it. Whereas if you actually like the song, would you really not vote for it because they confused you with a break?

But while I won’t use that fake break to make any observations on the song’s chances, I will complain – again – about this odd need of delegations to add things that there’s absolutely no reason to add, just because they feel every Eurovision song needs a gimmick. It’s entirely fine to just go out there and perform your song for three minutes, people! You have a great singer and proper choreography. That’s really all you need for this entry and all you can do with it. Why overcomplicate things?

Well, thank you, but no: “Because we’re Slovenia, what did you expect?” is not the right answer.

Straight into love (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

18. Ukraine
Is there really a need for me to write any more words about it? The ghostly form of young Lord Voldemort is still performing this song – he’s a good enough performer that Hermione actually agreed to give him another week before de-cursing that damn piano – and it very efficiently combines OTT gimmicky nonsense for the viewing and voting pleasure of the audience with a current enough song and performer to please the juries. There’s something for everyone.

She’s after my piano (Eurovision.tv / Anders Putting)

Next up: The direct finalists receive the TV feed treatment. If it will not be better than today, then it at least will be shorter. Small mercies.