Despite concerns over the elevation of style over song quality, and bloc voting, the Eurovision is in good health, writes Karen Fricker.
The Eurovision Song Contest is in rude health. A record 42 countries will compete in Helsinki on May 10th and 12th, with other nations clamouring to participate.
The ever-burgeoning size of the contest is prompting the European Broadcasting Union (EBU) to consider the introduction of a second semi-final round, so that all entrants would have to compete in a semi-final before advancing to the final. This would also address a very apparent effect of the introduction of the first semi-final in 2004: countries that perform in the semi-final are more likely to score well in the final.
Last year, eight of the top 10 songs in the final had been semi-finalists (including Ireland's Brian Kennedy); in 2005, seven of 10 finalists were semi-finalists - because audiences are more likely to vote for songs they have heard more than once. This has created the unfair scenario whereby countries that perform well enough one year to skip the semi-final the next (as with Ireland this year) are less likely to win.
According to a Eurovision insider, a second semi-final could be introduced in 2008. A sticking point will be the fate of the "Big Four" countries (the UK, Germany, France and Spain) if compulsory semi-finals were to be introduced. Because the Big Four pay exponentially more money to the EBU to participate in Eurovision than all other countries, they are automatically in the final each year. This prompts resentful grumbling among smaller nations - and, in recent years, some smug chortling, as the Big Four have scored consistently poorly.
The EBU is clearly open to innovation in order to accommodate ever-growing interest in its flagship programme. But how ready are the competing nations to evolve along with the contest? Since the abolition of the orchestra and the introduction of televoting in the late 1990s, the look and sound of Eurovision has come in tune with pop culture, but always with a Continental twist, prompting the scenario in which (in western Europe, at least) Eurovision is seen as uncool and strangely foreign for hipsters but too trendy for traditionalists.
The biggest complaint of those who feel Eurovision is selling out to populism is that the "Song" in the contest's name is being ignored: it's become a competition that rewards spectacle over the skills of songwriters. This complaint is undoubtedly true: looking back on the winning entrants of the past several years, what unites them is the skilful and professional delivery of a thoroughly conceived visual and aural package.
Even last year's surprise victors Lordi, with their pyrotechnics, elaborate costumes and audience-inclusive performance, are part of this trend: underneath that latex monster drag beats the heart of consummate Eurovision showmanship.
Some call it progress, some call it regression, but putting on a big show is clearly now a requirement to win Eurovision. But so, arguably, is writing a first-class pop song that captures the voting population's ears and imaginations in three short minutes - the same principle that has underlain the contest from the beginning.
Another trend causing much hand-wringing is bloc voting - the tendency of countries to give votes to their neighbours regardless of song quality. This happens, but it is nothing new. In other words, people vote for what sounds familiar, and did so even when the contest was decided by jury.