When I first came up with the idea to The View from Wherever post series a few years back, it was meant as an exercise to see how much I can glean from the limited rehearsal material we got to see prior to the live shows. Little did I know what awaited me down the road: having almost nothing to go on. I might be able to always find a way to write many words about pretty much anything if I decide to, but I’m not a prophet.

Therefore, this year there’s only one condensed piece, combining both a semi-final postmortem and a final preview, united by circumstances. (But it’s still long – get the coffee and cake ready.)

Without further ado, let’s travel in time back to last Tuesday and some quick impressions from the aftermath of the first semi-final.

Do you sometimes not get an entry to the point of being forced to trust other people’s judgment about it? That’s my relationship with Belgium, an entry I didn’t get in the Belgian NF and also didn’t get now. I didn’t enjoy the song and wasn’t impressed by its performance in the NF but the reactions to it made me think that maybe this is one of the things that happen when you get older and moan about the music kids listen to these days. The staging mashed up nods to both “Rhythm Inside” and Switzerland’s own “She Got Me”, but they didn’t get to be inside the final. At least you tried!

The same could be said about Cyprus, I suppose, because even though I knew it wasn’t much of a song I was sure it was a certain qualifier. After all, until this semi there have only been three artists in the two-semi system history to not qualify from the last spot in the running order: Moje 3, Triana Park and Fyr og Flamme. But Theo? A modern-sounding tune, slick performance and bare arms should have been enough to at least get him through so he could finish on the 18th place on Saturday.

Well, apparently now we have 4 names on that particular NQ list. Maybe calling an entry “Shhh” was a bad omen.

The three other NQs didn’t even manage to be interesting while not qualifying. Slovenia did its thing well, but its thing was also boring and third in the running order so this was always going nowhere. Azerbaijan I actually like in studio but it absolutely does not work live, and while it could have been staged way better, that wouldn’t have helped it either.

Let me be your halo
(Corinne Cumming / EBU)

Croatia, well, I have no idea. What is this? What is any of this?

On to semi 2 we go!

Starting with the obvious non-qualifiers. Montenegro‘s Nina looked back at their 2022 entry, where Vladana finished 17th in the semi final, and figured out that the problem with that entry was that Vladana wore an extremely uncomfortable blue dress. Therefore, Nina chose a very similarly uncomfortable white dress instead. Sure. At least she will have improved on that 17th place, I guess – and props for the blindfold as a throwback to her own previous participation. WhoSee? Not her, obviously.

Georgia‘s entry was a glorious nod to so many past Georgian entries. Musically, it started with a tribute to “For You” before setting on a musical journey that no one could tell where it was heading for, à la “Three Minutes to Earth”, while also embodying the musical theater spirit of “Shine”. And the tribute didn’t end there! Let’s not forget Diana’s legendary dress from “Peace Will Come”, which received a new life here, except this time around the costume change led us directly to the unfortunate memory of “I’m a Joker”. Mariam also shamelessly raised the “Visionary Dream” dancers from wherever they’ve been since 2007 and also made sure to throw in a “Firefighter” reference with that backdrop and even a throwback to “Waterfalls”, this time with a different body of water.

Sometimes the sum is a lot less than its parts.

I’ll be your icebreaker when you’re stuck in frozen water
(Alma Bengtsson / EBU)

Serbia‘s main selling points were supposed to be his vocals and his special talent for floor mopping with his hair. Sadly for him, his vocals weren’t on point on Thursday night, and the hosts stole his thunder and already cleaned the stage floor before he had a chance to demonstrate his skills.

Ireland and Australia ended up on the wrong side of silly, even though Australia was more entertaining than I expected and Ireland was considerably less entertaining than I expected. Either way, it was a “Kiss Kiss Goodbye” night for both, as well as for this semi’s Cyprus: the Czech Republic. Bad omen titles much?

I see your spirit in the sky
(Alma Bengtsson / EBU)

Song title jinx aside, they had the opposite problem than Cyprus had. Cyprus managed a staging that actually worked for the vibe of the song, but the song itself just wasn’t enough. The Czechs had a good song, but a staging that had the completely wrong vibes for it. It’s generally very hard to stage a good song into non-qualification, but they managed it. Instead of making it an intimate and personal experience dominated by Adonxs’ wonderful voice, it focused on the spectacle to the point of sucking any soul or personality out of it and making the whole thing completely unrelatable.

And now… it’s time for the final.

In the first semi-final, I thought that Norway‘s Kyle Alessandro sounded nervous but that his fresh face managed to make that endearing rather than a problem. So early in the final and with a jury? I’m afraid he’s likely to Tooji himself to the lower part of the scoreboard – but it’s a great opener regardless.

I’m running through these ashes like a firefighter
(Corinne Cumming / EBU)

Laura from Luxembourg saw Georgia and Montenegro’s attempts at tributes to past entries and said “hold my beer”. While the nod to the one specific entry has all the subtlety of a Maltese staging, the Luxembourgish concept with its overwhelming visuals differs vastly from any Maltese staging in the history of Eurovision insofar as it has an actual clear concept that is well thought-out and superbly executed. Most importantly, it does what a good staging is supposed to do: it tells the story of the song. No knowledge of French is required.

I’m not your toy, you stupid boy
(Corinne Cumming / EBU)

What’s next? Oh, right, Estonia.

Let me just refer you to a conversation I had with a dear ESC friend:

Friend: “I’ve come to realise that Tommy Cash is the most consistent vocalist of this year. He always sounds THE SAME.”
Shi: “Yes. Awful.”
Friend: “Exactly.”

I can understand why this came across as a potential televote magnet at the time it was chosen to represent Estonia, even if already then it wasn’t my cup of espresso. I’m not sure being so early in the running order does it any favors with so many televote grabbers still to come though. We shall see!

After these three songs, it’s a good time for a ballad. I’m not sure who was the genius who thought Israel‘s Yuval should wear giant wings when performing among a ton of tiny crystals, but the bird-with-a-broken-wing look did provide unexpected comic relief in the semi. I also keep looking for the eye of Sauron with that giant prop, but that’s just a me problem.

I’m the one who built the tower
(Alma Bengtsson / EBU)

I didn’t really see a Lithuanian qualification on the cards, despite the entry being quite lonely in its niche. It somehow manages to be very dark and intense while also having very little happen during the song and the performance. That being said, I’m actually glad it’s here. Variation is good.

For someone who is named Melody, it’s a bit ironic that her song has very little of it. It’s entertaining enough in a “we’re doing what we think a Eurovision entry is supposed to look like” way, which does sound like something Spain would do. But it wants so badly to be “SloMo” when in fact it’s much more of a “La noche es para mi”.

I got a secret you should know
(Sarah Louise Bennett / EBU)

Ukraine is entirely pleasant but also sounds and looks entirely like something Lithuania would have sent circa 2009. Make of that what you will.

Continuing our trip down memory lane to ghosts of Eurovisions past, the United Kingdom have managed to come up with a Eurovision 2000 styling, a Eurovision 2010 staging, and a song that I’m actually not entirely sure where to place chronologically.

For what it’s worth, it’s not an embarrassing entry (always an achievement for this particular country), but in some ways it’s also very German: Nice song, sympathetic singers, staging for the sake of staging that contributes nothing to the event. The result is pleasant, but who’s going to actually vote for it?

My heart goes boom when I see you, baby
(Corinne Cumming / EBU)

Also, not helping: being followed by Austria.

Every year there is at least one song that, no matter whether they love it or hate it, everyone will notice it. This year, Austria fits the bill. The vocals will stand out, the staging will stand out, as will the fact that’s it’s just a very good song. The Austrians understood the assignment and will have the audience’s full attention for three whole minutes.

Never ever sink my ship and sail away
(Sarah Louise Bennett / EBU)

Who doesn’t appreciate some good old running order trolling? We had an Austrian boat and now we get an Icelandic one! Not sure the comparison does them any favors, mind you, but the songs are different enough for it to not matter for voters at home. The jury is a different matter, but they were never voting for this to begin with. However, it’s a fun little earworm that also makes a good break between the audiovisual experience that is Austria to the, ahem, the different kind of an audiovisual experience that is Latvia.

I just discovered that the lyrics of Latvia are about not knowing happiness until knowing what misery is. I suppose that’s appropriate, considering they were happy qualifying and I was miserable listening to them. In fairness, I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad song, just a song that isn’t compatible with my brain. The staging is mesmerizing and encompasses the meaning of the song, which is a no small feat in this particular instance. Personally, I’m yet to manage listening to or watching this in its entirety, and I suspect Saturday won’t be any different, but you know what? I’m actually really glad it’s there and that it actually captured enough people outside Latvia’s immediate neighbourhood to qualify.

Keď sa slnko skloní na Horehroní chce sa mi spievať, zomrieť aj žiť
(Alma Bengtsson / EBU)

If Latvia felt like an eternity for me, the Netherlands provided me with the opposite experience: it felt too short! Claude is one of the most likable performers this year, and while I don’t entirely get the staging, all six people on stage contribute to a relaxed and joyful atmosphere.

We continue to Finland, which is essentially what it was in UMK except for being bigger and flashier. Still effective with Erika owning every little bit of the performance, still insanely fun, still going to do really well in the televote and still going to not do at all well with the juries.

This is your Captain speaking. I’d like to welcome you aboard this Eurovision flight.
(Sarah Louise Bennett / EBU)

Next, it’s Italy‘s turn to provide a timely placed respite with this simple and lovely song. However, placing subtitles on screen is not the most inspired way to make sure viewers get the song. Is it a lazy solution? Yes. Nevertheless: Does it work? Also, yes. The Mediterranean region in a nutshell.

I don’t know if there’s a more effective way to demonstrate the evolution of Eurovision in six minutes other than watching both of Justyna’s performances – 1995 and 2025 – back to back. Both feature fantastic vocals, mystic vibes and lyrics that make absolutely zero sense, and yet somehow I doubt the 22-year-old Justyna could have ever imagined she’d be back at the contest three decades later while flying with dragons. Eurovision, man.

Flying high she became a sun
(Corinne Cumming / EBU)

Oh, Germany, what am I going to do with you? I mean, literally, I have no idea what to make of “Baller” and how it will come across. The staging is great and works well for the song, which is a nice change for Germany. I’m not sure how much of a wide appeal the actual song has, though, and Tynna’s vocals don’t always help matters. I’m going to hope for the best and expect the worst (i.e. Germany’s usual final placing).

We now reach Greece in what is the longest stretch of songs that are mostly non-English in a Eurovision final since 1998. Klavdia brought us a very Greek song that managed to mix modern beats and traditional music, with a bit of Nana Mouskouri nostalgia thrown in. The staging is fantastic, Klavdia is excellent and in a line-up with very little ethnic music and a lot of audience for such music, the stars might just align for her.

Birds falling down the rooftops, out of the sky like raindrops
(Alma Bengtsson / EBU)

I can’t even begin to imagine the workout regime Armenia‘s Parg had to abide in order to – I’m really sorry – survive the full three minutes of this performance without sacrificing his vocals towards the end. It’s more of a visual break than a song, to be honest, but it is an attention grabber and has such a different feel from what’s both before and after it, that it benefits all three songs.

Running running running from this crazy life
(Corinne Cumming / EBU)

Switzerland has done what very few hosting countries have managed to do, especially in recent years: create three minutes of pure magic in a song that is a far cry from the style of their winning entry (and also, in my opinion, better – and I liked “The Code”). The staging draws the viewers in, and while the contrast between the mellow warmth and the dramatic later section of the song had the potential to be jarring, I think it manages to work more as a big moment instead – and might get them another big result.

Just remember: Switzerland, which failed to qualify for the final a whopping eleven times, has finished in the podium positions three times in the last five editions. There’s always hope. Yes, even for you, Malta.

Malta have failed to qualify ten times, and they broke a three-year NQ streak this year. However, their last top five placement was exactly 20 years ago now, and I don’t think this will be the year where their fortunes turn. Like I wrote in the lead-up to its semi final, Malta does what Malta does and tackles its staging with the least subtlety imaginable – and that’s in a line-up with Erika Vikman in it.

Una diva es sencilla como un simple mortal
(Corinne Cumming / EBU)

Portugal‘s entry is a little slice of charm and calm that makes me hum happily along while it’s on and then promptly forget everything about it as soon as it ends. I actually had to rewatch it to remind myself of the melody which I then, of course, hummed again. Wouldn’t be surprised if this got quite a bit of jury love, would be surprised if it did much in the televote.

Out of all the surprise qualifiers this year, Denmark surprised me the most. It is the epitome of a Danish entry: a pleasant vanilla tune with a pleasant singer and a staging that is so uninspired I would have guessed it to be a production-designated backdrop if it wasn’t exactly the thing Denmark would go for. I’m happy for Sissal to have qualified, if only for her reaction when she did, but I have no idea what her song doing here or how anyone is supposed to remember it when it’s followed by Sweden.

What the hell just happened?
(Alma Bengtsson / EBU)

That person walking around their workplace on Sunday morning – a workday where I am! – with black circles underneath the eyes while randomly shouting “Sauna”? Yes, that’s me. I know it’s tempting to rebel against the tide of Sweden being a favorite AGAIN, and we all know I was that person too many times. Sometimes, songs are just fun. It would be fun even if it wasn’t Sweden. It’s also a nice change to get a Swedish-language entry from Sweden for the first time in the free language era – and also, in a dramatic turn of events, they are actually making use of the host country’s stage and not just their own.

Also: Sauna!

Sieben, sieben, ai lyu-lyu
(Alma Bengtsson / EBU)

Full disclosure: I’ve been a Louane fan for over a decade now, which actually means I was afraid to hear her song for France because so often I’m let down by Eurovision entries of artists I like. I was therefore relieved when I heard “Maman” because it’s such a beautiful song. As an added value for me, the song also references a different song of hers from 2015 that is also called “Maman” that was dedicated to her mother who passed away in 2014. Ten years later, she sings about the passage of time and where she is now, which also explains the staging with the hourglass and the sand. Is it the best staging for this? I’m not sure, but I don’t know what I would have done instead. It does allow focusing entirely on Louane who emotes this song so beautifully.

Guess we built a castle out of sand
(Sarah Louise Bennett / EBU)

I was beyond delighted to see my favorite ever San Marino entry (low bar, I know) making it to the final, because from the little I saw prior to the to the live show I had no idea how it would come across. Turns out it comes across like Zdob si Zdub’s most recent entry: low budget, high energy, and a ton of fun.

Albania closing the song portion of the night is an interesting choice, but I get it. A fan favorite that is musically unique and superbly staged and performed? It’s Eurovision in a nutshell.

Also, a random trivia fact for no real reason: did you know that Albania competed in 20 semi finals to date? I’m sure you did. But did you know that when having black and red feature as the main colors of the staging or costumes, Albania qualified nine out of eleven times, and when ditching the Albanian colors for any other color scheme, they only qualified twice out of nine attempts? Maybe Red Sebastian should have represented Albania.

Let me share my song with you, just feel the passion

And there we have it: plenty of words, very few conclusions. No real predictions here, but if you do want to see me try (and most probably fail), make sure to read the escgo! team predictions later on today.

And with that: Let the Eurovision final begin!