Matthew eats… Eurovision Song Contest 2024

This is normally the post I look most forward to writing. My thoughts on a joyful four hours where I can bemoan the UK at being rubbish, debate the merits of the winner and just generally review whatever has occurred on the night.

But this year is different for obvious reasons. Firstly, there is the cloud over Israel’s participation. I initially thought many months back the EBU had taken the right decision allowing them to compete. But over time I came to question this. There was the attempt to send a deliberately provocative song, that was eventually watered down. Then there have been persistent rumours that the delegation had been unpleasant in their conduct to other delegations that had openly criticised them being allowed to compete. On balance, whilst Israel should have been allowed to compete, it perhaps would make sense know for everyone involved to ask whether it is the best thing in the long run for anyone involved to allow this to be repeated.

Then there was the Netherlands’ disqualification following an altercation with a member of the production team. It says something about how toxic the environment was this year that the rumour mill immediately sought to blame Israel. Personally, though I find it regretful, I do think that the disqualification was the right thing to do. If the act was indeed engaged in threatening behaviour then that is a breach of the rules, and it would be worse for them to have carried on and perhaps won and then be found guilty then to be removed and later found innocent.

So what about the show itself? Well, overall it was brilliant to see the breadth of genres. We seem to have moved far on from ballads and eurodance being all that is available with the odd token rock song. Ireland, Croatia and Switzerland in particular all learnt how to do ‘different’ right. Less so Norway and Finland. The former were handsomely rewarded with both healthy jury and public vote scores. Switzerland were deserving winners in my view – easily the best voice on the night, an excellently constructed song and clever staging.

The biggest shocks were the big votes for Ukraine and Israel. Yes, there’s sympathy voting, but I am tiring of a certain class of viewer failing to actually reward good songs. Although in terms of Israel, it perhaps shows that underneath a progressive veneer, the average viewer is still quite conservative and not interested in the plight of Gaza the way younger generations might wish them to be.

And the UK? Well, we came 18th, which is several places higher than last year, thanks to a jury score that fell for the pop hook. But no viewer votes. Again, in hindsight staging the song around a homoerotic encounter in a men’s locker room in space was not the strongest of ideas when you are pitching to an audience that consider Eurovision to be a family show (although no such issues with scantily clad women or hetero men dancing suggestively). The LGBT audience were busy rallying behind Switzerland and Ireland anyway.

Plus, Olly’s voice was not the best. It was very much a performance that seemed to be focused on dancing and the bells and whistles, rather than showing any vocal prowess. With so many countries delivering something close to flawless (again Switzerland, but also France, Germany and Latvia) you can’t get away with those kind of wobbles.

But there is hope. The song was so nearly there. The vocals were not a complete disaster. The staging showed the UK can be bold. If we can build on this we can climb the leaderboard. That’s something to hope for in a difficult time for the contest.

Matthew eats… University Challenge

University Challenge is a television institution. It feels like it would be a true sign of end times if it was ever axed. Of course, it once was for a brief time, and I can only imagine the horrors that swirled around.

To add to its gravitas, it had only ever had two hosts; Bamber Gascoigne and then Jeremy Paxman, both doing the jobs for decades. For Paxman, his encroaching Parkinson’s disease saw him finally bow out in 2023. His replacement is Amol Rajan. He has now had almost a full run to bed in, so how is he doing?

Ok, let’s start with the positives. His arrival hasn’t led to a change in format, as that would be sacrilege. We do have a new set, which initially looked alarmingly 80’s but has now settled. He is an eloquent questioner, managing to avoid Paxman’s mangled pronunciations of scientific terms. We also see a splash of his private passions – bonus rounds on jazz or hip hop see him brighten up considerably.

And now the negatives. In early episodes, he rushed through the questions. Thankfully they were basic enough in the early rounds for the viewer to just about cope, but it did skew some of the opening matches, allowing the losing team a better opportunity to secure one of the top 4 runner-up spots then those who came later down the line when the pace had settled. His attempts at banter also fall flat; Paxman got away with it by presenting himself as some dowdy headmaster being exasperated by a particularly wasteful child. Rajan seems to think he can still pass for being a student himself and that he is in some glorified Student Union bar.

Having said that, he has grown on me. Although the transition isn’t faultless, he hasn’t ruined (or even tarnished) the show. Rather like a monarch new to the throne, he has made a wise move in grasping that the institution is bigger than him. Will it be a decades-long tenure? Who knows. But if he continues to mature into the role, it would be a shame for it not to be.

Matthew eats… Beyond Paradise

The unqualified, and at times unexplained, success of cosy detective drama Death in Paradise was always ripe for a spin off. In fact, it seems nothing short of a surprise that it has taken over a decade for one to be forth coming. It is after all one of the network’s biggest bankers, which is perhaps embarrassing in some respects – having one of the most powerful drama departments in the television world and one of your biggest hits is something that could be made by any commercial rival.

But here we are, now with Beyond Paradise. Former lead Kris Marshall returns as the detective, having spent some years in London. Now it is off to the quiet seaside town of his wife’s childhood. Which of course, turns out not to be that quiet. It’s like Midsomer Murders pitched up at the seaside. Whether or not it trips over into the faintly ridiculous remains to be seen.

So yes, little town location – check. Now, the supporting cast. Well, it’s Devon, so some Doc Martin style – south-western yokels will work. Get a dim but well-meaning rookie officer (poor Dylan Llewellyn – all that Derry Girls and Big Boys kudos being leached off him). Put a grumpy late middle-aged woman on reception. Have a sidekick who is slightly too serious. Yep, every casting cliche is there.

None of this is a problem. They know the target audience for this and it gets lapped up. Not everyone wants crime dramas in dimly lit streets and violent deaths. And if you can wrap it up in 60 minutes, all to the good. I mean, with a bit more polish, I would barely be raising an eyebrow at this.

But it is the lack of polish that is the killer blow. For saying this is in a prime time slot, this is more reminiscent of the sort of cosy crime that sometimes goes out mid-afternoon. Death in Paradise looks like Chekov next to this. It is not some much comfort food, as an insubstantial ready meal pretending to be something more.

And finally, the tone. Yes, it is all breezy. But then we have Humprhey’s personal life, including his wife’s latest miscarriage and worries over an affair. It is these that put it rightfully in that 9pm window for viewing, yet are so at odds with the charm of everything else.

In short, Death in Paradise seems to have that magic that means it gets away with this approach that Beyond Paradise doesn’t. Perhaps it’s a time thing, or that with the exception of Marshall, the lead in it has always had a dash of vinegar in their spirit. Something isn’t quite right here. Maybe this is why a spin off was initially so slow to come.

Matthew eats… Doctor Who

It is rarely a good idea for a TV show to move back when trying to return to glory. Soap characters never slot back in quite right and any future departure matters less. Once a reality show has complicated its format, simplifying it just makes it look dull.

So I was sceptical at the decision to have Doctor Who a) rehire Russel T Davies as showrunner, b) recast David Tennant as the Doctor for the second time and c) bring back Catherine Tate in the ‘assistant’ role. Don’t get me wrong, this trio represent the glory days of modern Who, but about 15 years has passed and the canon moves on.

Yet, based on the first two specials at least, it’s worked. The sense of fun is back. The stories feel like adventures again. There is silliness without stupidity. The horror is scary but not overwhelming. And we care about how the puzzle is solved, something I haven’t done in a long time.

The first special centred on the cute looking The Meep. Although the twist might have been obvious, it didn’t matter. The pacing and the dialogue meant the plot didn’t hinge on this ‘moment’. It felt like proper family viewing. Plus Yasmin Finney was superb, even if her pro-trans speech was a red rag to the anti-woke part of the fandom. I hope she comes back at some point; perhaps a new role at UNIT beckons?

The second episode was more of a slow burn. The building blocks of the mystery took a while to be put in place and, as a result, the action delayed. But once it got moving there were some excellent psychological scares. At times it did feel an imitation of ‘Midnight’, one of the greatest episodes of the previous Tennant era. But that is a minor detraction of an otherwise high-quality treat.

I had forgotten Doctor Who could be this good. The doldrums of the past few years where high concepts have overtaken plot appear to have gone. We have, of course, one more special to go and a transition into the next Doctor. This will test Davies’s magic touch. But I’m cautiously hopeful. And that is more than I have felt about this show for a while.

Ru Paul’s Drag Race UK

I don’t think I have ever felt so nervous about the return of a TV programme in a long time. The stinker that was season three of Ru Paul’s Drag Race Down Under left me fearing the franchise was beginning to die and that the talent had ran dry.

Thankfully it was totally unfounded. Series five of Drag Race UK feels like it could join the upper echelons along with that unicorn of a series 2. But what has made it work?

Firstly, and most obviously, the line up is strong. Right now there are six left and there are still three real contenders plus a couple of dark horses, and even the current weakest on recent form isn’t out of the running. There is definitely strength in depth here. You have natural comedic talent, highly skilled performers and some genuinely stunning looks, and most queens can at least tick two of the above three boxes.

The confessionals have also been gold along with the repartee between the queens. In both categories, Ginger Johnson (current frontrunner) and Kate Butch (one of the dark horses) are stealing moments. Highlights for the former include her deadpan reaction to Cara Melle’s shock at being in the bottom two after one challenge (Cara: I thought I did fine. Ginger: Ru didn’t think so. Cara: Well I didn’t do that bad. Ginger: Yes you did *evil chuckle begins*). For Kate, you are spoilt for choice between her back and forth with the producers, her creation of Linda the non-shitting horse and her response to Cara Melle (yes her again) trying to read her by saying she looks like Robin Williams. Kate: Cara also has something in common with Robin Williams, in that neither of them are telling jokes right now.

Meanwhile, Michael Marouli is stealing the looks game, always going to the next level. But they also have the aforementioned comedy and performance chops, and seem to be very likeable. We haven’t seen a lip sync, but if they can do it, well, they are the full package.

Any complaints? Well, it seems obvious despite my love of her that Kate Butch will not be allowed to win. Already the all too obvious narrative of ‘she isn’t growing’ has started and even her praise is being heavily mitigated. It is a clear machination to make her exit in the next few episodes obvious. Hopefully I am wrong as she is my favourite and pure joy. And on the plus side, leaves room for an All-Stars or Vs the World return.

But yes, this is truly wonderful as a series. My enthusiasm has returned and I await every episode with baited breath. Let’s hope it can keep up this form.

Matthew eats… Strictly Come Dancing

Last year me and the other half didn’t bother with Strictly Come Dancing. The celebrities were of no interest to us and in some case downright turn offs. But this year looked more interesting so we are once again invested in the format.

Of course, watching means you are reminded by all the things that irritate you about the show regardless of who is appearing on it. In fact, the list is so long that there are moments how you wonder this is such a hit, until you realise most of the viewers brush aside such quibbles to indulge in sequins and glitter after another week in a bleak world.

But just to go back to the irritations, let’s begin with the hosting. I will cast no clouds on Claudia Winklemen, who is a witty and engaging host, drawing out even the most reticent celebrity and having a the perfect quip to link into the next scene. Tess Daly, on the other hand, is clearly jealous of her co-host getting to be the funny one, and tries some scripted jokes herself. Sadly, she lacks the personality to carry it off. If she hoped post-retirement of Bruce Forsyth to become the lead presenter she must be disappointed; she is joint to Claudia at best.

Then there is the odd judging. All but Craig Revel-Horwood seem to be unable to locate the paddles that are below 5. To her credit, Motsi Mabuse has calmed down her judging and is better for it, not least as we are actually getting a proper critique. Angton du Beke is over-generous with his scores, but we do at least get a lovely bit of technical knowledge. The biggest frustration is for Shirley Ballas, whose scoring seems to fluctuate entirely on her personal opinion of the dancer rather than the dance. Pretty young women in particular fall foul of her.

Finally, you also feel sorry for some of the contestants. Unknown but good? Fine, you will get enough time for viewers to get to know you and you could even get the underdog narrative. Well-known but bad? Your fans will keep you in, unless you are Les Dennis, but he lost the ‘omg I can’t believe they are doing this’ to Krishnan Guru-Murthy.

But if you are bad and unknown? Don’t bother learning the route to the dance studio. There will be no love for you. Make that double if you have zero self-confidence. Nikita Kanda will barely be a blip in anyone’s memories.

Yet for all this the show is loved. Maybe it is because it is the balm to increasing autumnal evening, a dash of colour where everything is turning to grey. It is an easy watch and its charm has made it become quite revered. Any attempts by commercial broadcasters to copy it just look tacky. So yes, it has it’s irritants. But it is also the soothing cream.

Matthew eats… Ru Paul’s Drag Race Down Under

I have always felt a bit sorry for Ru Paul’s Drag Race Down Under. It has been treated like the poor relation of the franchise. It hasn’t ever had, or even attempted to have, the fireworks of the American version. It also lacks the delightful rough edges of the UK edition. But despite getting little love in many quarters, I have always found it charming, and in its defence has actually picked two worthwhile winners.

However, season three feels deeply flawed. It was obvious from the first episode. The introduction to the queens came across as rushed, and the first maxi challenge being a ‘write a verse’ challenge felt wrong. There felt little space for us to know any of the queens. In fact, it would have been to the season’s advantage if instead it began with the second challenge, which was a design challenge, and at least gives us some window into each queen’s style and take on drag.

As for the twist in episode two no lip sync due to a medical emergency – the falseness was clear. Not the queen falling ill, but Ru orchestrating a the lip sync to open episode three. Maybe they felt the writing was on the wall for this season already and needed something to kick the show up the backside.

To be fair, Ru would have been right. The quality of queens just isn’t there. As we approach the final five, we have two queens so clearly making up the numbers (and if one of them is to suddenly come up on the outside, then we really haven’t had the proper narrative for them to do). Of the other three, whilst they are stronger, none of them hold a candle to the previous two winners of the franchise. I do have a preference of who possibly could deserve it, but even they in any other season would have been finalist at best.

The one saving grace is the the Snatch Game was far stronger than was expected. Ashley Madison as Jesus and Isis Avis Loren as Donatella Versace were both excellent performances and bar an awkward Cardi B from Rita Menu, it wasn’t a disaster.

I do wonder if, should Ru wish to cull the number of franchises, whether or not Down Under could be primed for the axe, or for it to be one they step away from and allow a new host to take over. Kita Mean wouldn’t be a bad shout.

As it stands, this is a season to wade through for completists. I am counting down the weeks until we move until season 5 of Drag Race UK, all be it with nerves that this might go down a similar downward spiral in quality (please God, no). If Down Under does get a season four, the quality needs upping. Otherwise the poor relation won’t even be in the family.

Matthew eats… I Kissed A Boy

Some TV phenomenon pass me by. I have never been sucked into the cult of Ant & Dec for a start. And what was the fuss over the constructed reality TV shows like Made in Chelsea and TOWIE. The sex fest that is Love Island also has never wooed me. It always seemed to be a cheap knock off of Big Brother before that itself became cheap. It was everyone you hate on social media (the people who can’t eat a slice of melon with Instagramming it, the ones who live inside their local gym, the ones who can contour the skin but don’t understand one contour of the Earth) all gathered in one place to spray hormones and bodily fluids on each other.

So how then has I Kissed A Boy entranced me so? Surely it is just the LGBT-baiting version of the aforementioned. Well, no, and I will tell you for why. But first, the format. 10 gay men move into a Italian villa and are paired off, but the first time they meet each other is for the first kiss. No chit chat. The smooch. All the chemistry relies on that one act. Those who then stay the course for the series then get to declare in front of their friends and family their commitment for each other in a ceremony. So of course, new men are added to the group to see if the original couples stray. Oh, and Danni Minogue presents.

So on the surface, there is that sense of alley cat morals we see on Love Island. But there are some crucial differences. Firstly, there is no public vote or prize money, so any decision to stay faithful or not is entirely on connection with that person. There isn’t really any motive for game play.

The second is that actually, for saying the gay community is seen as very strict on body image, a far greater variety of body types are on show. Yes, there are a few chiseled abs and firm pecs. But there is also a couple of guys who are a fairly hefty looking or quite lanky. Both of these make you feel as if the show is somehow kinder than its rival.

Yes there are villains. Newcomer Mikey is playing a game with the equally smitten Josh (a sweet if slightly too introverted young man only recently out) and David, who should know better than to leave the gorgeous, funny and actually quite nice Ollie. Someone is going to get hurt, but your heart will go out to whoever it is rather than the slight joyfulness Love Island fans feel when a similar storyline emerges on their show.

See? Episode one is all I’ve seen and I’m now hooked. And I don’t even want more drama. I just want the ones I like – Ollie if he is cut loose and solo to hopefully find someone new, and Jake and Kalium as my favourite couple – to be happy.

Matthew eats… Canada’s Drag Race

In a world of fantasy PhD topics, I have a few different ideas on my shortlist. How the ebb and flow of juror influence has impacted on what type of song wins Eurovision (since the rise of the juries ethno-pop and novelty are largely out, sincere ballads and interesting genre takes are in). Another one the list is how different franchises of Drag Race represent their country. What do they tell us about queer culture in those countries.

For example, both UK and Down Under seasons seem to be quite different from US, but overall similar to each other. Both of them, for example, overall seem to prioritise comedy and character in queens, and are happy to forgo looks and epic syncs. Note, for example, how both UK and Down Under are happy to ditch the Ball Challenge and at times also the makeover challenge but never comedy improvisation or overacting challenges. The girl band challenge is also much more central than the Rusical, which says a lot about how pop culture operates differently to those the other side of the Atlantic.

So want can we glean from Canada in terms of Canada’s Drag Race? Well, I have only watched the first two episodes of the first season so far, so I am limited, but I think I can offer some nuggets.

I would argue that it appears at the moment to fall between the US show and it’s UK/Down Under cousins. There is certainly amongst the queens themselves a keenness to prioritise fun and character over being tidy. At least two of the contenders on the season have a reputation for being messy with their drag and their seems to be a more open approach to being odd that I find the neatly tucked style of US queens lacks.

Yet this is thrown by the judging panel. All I will say is – FAR. TOO. SERIOUS. I itch for the wit of literally any of the judges on the other franchises, not to mention the insight. Alan Carr, Rhys Nicholson, Ross Matthews… any of them could wipe the floor with Jeffrey Bower-Chapman and Stacie Mackenzie. I’m also missing the genuine insight of Michelle Visage. Yes, she is a tough judge, but at least it feels sincere. Both Bower-Chapman and Mackenzie, along with Brooklyn Hytes, seem to go for the jugular and the praise feels very ‘meh’.

To add to this, with no one as head judge and the guest judges somehow acting as compere with no actual say in who goes, it all feels a bit odd. Fair enough, I am still early in the first season and kinks could be ironed out, but if they haven’t been then I just don’t see it working.

Overall, it is the quality of the Queens carrying this through. But no reality survives on this alone. I await to see how it develops.

Matthew eats… Eurovision Song Contest 2023

The circus has rolled out of town once more. So thus, my yearly review must be produced. Once more I will be offering my thoughts on the show in general, if the right song one, and what the UK must do better to be competitive (although the last one was unnecessary last year).

So to the show itself. I personally think the BBC executed the show wonderfully. The crowd was one of the most engaged I’ve heard in years, helped by being in Liverpool, a party capital. The hosts actually fizzed with chemistry and even the obligatory awkward filler moments were a cut above the usual. Hannah Waddingham proved to be a breakout star, holding everything together with a sense of humour and British fortitude. One of the most delightful moments came when Graham Norton lost patience with Iceland’s spokesperson and branded him ‘the slowest stripper ever’. Her corpsing was joyous.

I also loved the postcards. Part of this was the beautiful notion of tying together Ukraine, UK and the artist’s home country as a display of unity. The other part though was it just letting me indulge my love of geography.

As for the songs; well this year we felt spoilt in terms of big personality numbers. Moldova and Croatia brought varying degrees of oddness and charm. France gave us refined charm. Portugal lived their Moulin Rouge fantasy. Belgium took us to the clubs circa 1992. Norway scored the soundtrack to the next Game of Thrones prequel. All delightful in their own way.

But it was Finland who stole the show. It was quintessential Eurovision. The performer was an oddity but engaging with a signature fashion choice and haircut. The staging was powerful yet never overtook the song. And the song itself was a joyous mix of genres, slipping from angry techno-rap in the first half before exploding into a party anthem. The lyrics apparently detail the adventures you have on a night out. It didn’t matter, you were sold to it anyway.

So why instead of this package of near perfection did Sweden win with one the blandest most middle-of-the road numbers? The juries. What chance did Finland have against such a peerless vocal. It was Goliath destroying David through the medium of c#. But that doesn’t mean I join the mob wanting an end to the jury system. I remember the horrors of the mid-00’s, where their seemed to be a battle to out gimmick each other and quality went out the window. Just let the juries at least partially vote on fun factor, rather than the rather staid constraints they have now.

Besides, the juries give us more points. And we needed them. Our act was disappointing in the context of it all. It may have been sound issues, it may have been bad camera angles, it may have been an overly complex song. Whatever it was, we were a whimper on a night of bangs.

But the fixes are easy. We did it just last year in fact. Write a decent song with excellent vocals and well constructed staging and we have a shot. We always did. If we stick to that formula a new golden era dawns for us.