As one of the most flexible formats around, it's no surprise that Eurovision accommodates such a diverse range of songs and performances. Alongside the usual plethora of pop, we have already seen that the 2008 edition of the contest is interspersed with OTT theatre and show numbers straight out of musicals in the likes of the Azeri and Lithuanian entries. Joining their ranks in Belgrade will be Cyprus, who are bringing their own melodrama to the stage with Evdokia Kadi's Femme Fatale. Less the Moulin Rouge of the Nicosian cabaret scene and more your twenty-euros-a-head end-of-package-tour dinner-and-show tune, it is one of the most characterful entries in this year's contest, but at the same time one of its most inscrutable.Reminiscent in style and execution of 2002 winner I Wanna from Latvia, Femme Fatale is a hundred times more authentic but about thirty years too late. Like many of the songs it will be competing against in the second semi-final it sounds like it has been extracted from another era and doesn't have any idea what its aim in life is, at least in terms of Eurovision. Part of this is down to the fact that the music, while neatly and interestingly arranged, has such a narrow focus: a razzle-dazzle take on what is essentially the sirtaki, it is not the kind of thing your average Eurovision viewer is going to be an avid fan of. Part of it also comes from the use of Greek, which exacerbates the sense of it being so passé. Choosing the language over English or French makes sense in context, but this year more than ever seems a foolhardy move to have made.
Bereft of 12 points from its core audience, Cyprus is nevertheless unlikely to come away empty-handed from the second semi-final, with the Greek diaspora on the mainland as well as in the UK sure to pick up their phones and vote it out of last place. I don't expect Femme Fatale to get anywhere close to crossing the line ahead of ten other countries though, and neither do I fancy it as the juries' wildcard, which if nothing means that Greece's douze should be more unpredictable come Saturday night. In the event that the Cypriots are faced with another result in Belgrade which is much more comme ça than comme ci and they persist with the French cliches as song titles, what's betting next year's will be C'Est La Vie?
1 comment:
What an odd entry this is! The deliberate drag of that pouting build up suggests it's about to break into something fantastically fast-paced and modern by way of contrast. But when the change of pace comes it never really gets beyond an awkward canter and the production never shakes off the same dated and slightly clueless mantle throughout. When the twanging guitars first come in there's a brief hint that we're about to be treated to some kind of postmodern Pulp Fiction take on Greek folk traditions, but that level of sophistication remains well out of bounds. Instead we tipple from Jewish wedding to close-harmony vaudeville and back but it's never clear where we're going or why. For all its tricksiness, the production never takes on an air of knowingness or playfulness and without that, well what's the point frankly? What we're left with is a jolly enough variety show skit - too staid for a romp - that sounds like it could've been lifted straight from a quirky Nana Mouskouri guest spot on the Engelbert Humperdinck Show.
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