
In an extremely upbeat choice, Azerbaijan crooned a tune about the country's infamous problem with its natives turning into interpretive dancers coming out during a total eclipse.

And then under the murderous light of the Blood Moon, the dancers turn on each other as cannibals and dance-eat each other to death.

And then the evil Stefano DiMera sang about his inability to say goodbye to a loved one, which makes total sense given that he once wanted Marlena so badly that he nearly guillotined John Black. THAT is a guy who has serious issues letting go.

This woman performs with headphones on so that she can invoke her Best Self, aka, the self that's in the recording studio getting lots of boosts from the sound board. The only thing of note is the mimer in the background who pretends to play an electric violin. Slovenia apparently slept through the meeting where everyone encouraged people to CREATE.

It's nice to know that a band called "Genealogy" could only come up with putting a GIANT tree behind them while they sang. The entire performance evoked the closing number in a giant musical-theater production about family trees.

And Giada De Laurentiis up there looks startlingly pleased to share with you her feelings about despair and when life breaks you down -- which, by the way, is a common theme this year. EVERYONE wants to discuss how we can bust through the shit. I guess the whole world is having a real shit-busting problem at the moment.

It's okay, though. Hailee Lorde Steinfeld, Queen of Dragons, will counsel us through it.

I have to believe this one dropped down because nobody wants to go to Lithuania next year. It was a lot perkier and more serviceable than some of the ones that finished above it. Basically, Lithuanian Nick Lachey up there is singing with his ice-skater about falling in love. It's catchy, and has a lot of energy, even if the lighting and stage design feels like an orange juice commercial or something.

But then there's a point where they stop dead and go, "KISS," and literally everyone on-stage with them stops and smooches somebody. So the audience LOVED that. As do I, frankly, because we need some aesthetic value here. When in doubt, make out.

"Do you know our world’s a mess?" they asked us. And last year, Hungary did a whole song about a scared child that included a child-abuse interpretive dance. So what I'm asking is... how are things in Hungary right now? At the very minimum, is there a whimsy deficit happening?

Spain began with, I assume, A TRAGIC MURDER.

Her cape KILLED A MAN, clearly, and so she wanders aimlessly away from him, singing -- I kid you not -- "I lost my mind. I bled so much love." Yes. FROM HIS VEINS. She may also be a Sith Lord -- I mean, Darth Maul had to have a mother SOMEWHERE.

BUT LO, HE LIVES. While she challenges oblivion, he stands up and picks up her train, because he's considerate even in mortal peril.

And then he tears OFF her robe. IT IS A TEARAWAY CAPE. Coming soon to a Las Vegas near you.

And then, she breathes his soul back into him through careful ballet. Spain is already way ahead of some of these other yokels just on plot alone. Regardless of what is actually happening, at least PEOPLE are involved.

People, and HAL. "What are you doing, Dave? Why are you giving twelve points to Belgium, Dave? I'm afraid I just can't do that, Dave. I cannot allow that to happen. This televote can serve no purpose anymore, Dave. Goodbye."

Monika here was apparently in a popular Polish band beginning in 2000, but in 2006, the band was in a bad accident that paralyzed her. This is extremely sad, and I'm thrilled she got to do this and with a dramatic skirt to boot.

But... and I don't mean to be disrespectful here... I do not think they went as Full Eurovision here as they could have. They are half-assing this. Putting her in front of some pretty flowers on a screen, with a man on a white piano, is not that interesting. Lighting her wheels on fire? Flying her in from the rafters? Now we're talking. I just want EVERYONE to throw some unbridled crazy at this thing. That's all. I WANT MORE.

And, the UK. SIGH. I've decided that four out of the Big Five being in the bottom (the Big Five is UK, France, Spain, Italy, and Germany, all guaranteed entry into the final every year) is a deliberate revolt. Although in this case, the UK and Germany totally deserved it. I don't know that Roaring Twenties-style scatting is what people look for in their Britpop.

The song is kind of a reverse "Baby It's Cold Outside," where instead of trying to dupe her into staying in his house, the dude is telling her -- and she is reciprocating -- to be careful when they're apart because he doesn't want anything bad to happen to her. It's not WITHOUT its charms? At least it's perky and not screaming at me about my sins. But it was never, ever going to be a winner. They have no chemistry, aren't in tremendous voice, and frankly, the whole thing sounds like something that was written in a foreign language and then translated quickly.

They did at least try with some neon, though. A weak grab. It's Desperation Neon. WHY NOT DESPERATION FIRE?

France went upbeat, with a song about villages that have been WIPED OFF THE EARTH, and the laughter of children WHO DIED, and soldiers who laughed in the face of their terror before KILLING THEIR SOULS WITH HATE. So basically, it's like, "Stop telling us we surrender too easily, okay? Because YES, WE'RE STILL MIFFED ABOUT THAT, and YES, the Great War and its sequel sucked all around."

But then she conjures her virtual marching band -- and four real people -- for her bit about washing away the blood and rebuilding, so that's nice. Ending on an up note about doing some spring cleaning.
Poor Lisa Angell should have finished way higher. She sang second and actually performed it very well despite its INCREDIBLE bummer nature, but I think it suffered from the early placement. My guess is, people decided to write it off immediately for being super depressing, and of course, because the World Wars -- and this song was written specifically about WWI -- are not Europe's favorite period to relive. Particularly not in song. PARTICULARLY in Austria, homeland of Archduke Ferdinand, whose assassination STARTED WWI. Oh, France. You didn't read the room, maybe.

Germany and Austria got blanked. I'm not sure why Germany got listed as 27th and Austria 26th, but whatever. I'm sticking Germany in here even though it's not numerically proper. The song is called "Black Smoke," and she couldn't manage anything but standing in front of a ring light? Not even any ACTUAL BLACK SMOKE? EUROVISION IS FOR BURNING THINGS YOU GUYS.

I'll admit that I didn't think this was so awful -- it's more gently drippy -- but let me tell you how obvious it is that Austria did not want to win this (and pay to host it) twice in a row. They followed up their triumphant, glorious bearded lady Conchita Wurst with one bearded man, a refugee from the 70s who thought this was The Barry Gibb Talk Show, and then a dude who appeared to be discovering the drums for the first time. Style points? No fear of that. Energy? Only from their follicles.

"Heh-heh. Fun sticks make noise."

Austrian Brody Jenner up there did obligingly light his piano on fire, though, as a late attempt to make it look like Austria was trying. If they'd gathered around and toasted some marshmallows, we might've been talking about a major points windfall.

As it was, though, nobody seemed moved. There was no potential for peril. It's an extremely CONTAINED piano fire, albeit one that likely has Elton John berating his design team for half-assing his Vegas residency.

THIS IS WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT. It. Has. Everything. Stripper cops, scaffolding, danger, the faint whiff of being someone's bachelor party that kidnapped the actual entrant and performed on a dare. THIS is Eurovision.

Whereas this is Kourtney Kardashian singing about the day Kris Jenner bought their souls at a group discount.

I truly hoped this was going to be the opening credits to a telenovela.

Instead, it's a lady wearing a genie-pants jumpsuit and cape. She's got the right idea, but it's missing sparkles, and ill-advised nude patches. Would it kill her to be on a trapeze, also? I'm just spitballing.

The best part was that the cameraman CLEARLY wanted to investigate what the hell is going on with the posse behind her, and whether those are googly-eyed faces on the shirts. So the camera would pull back, then push in really fast, over and over, always stopping right here because nobody in the back ever went anywhere or did anything or paid off the faces on their chests. I guess when you cover Eurovision, you're used to genie jumpsuits and you're always looking for the next bit of mischief. Look again next year, I guess. I HOPE.
