CoffeeCat Reviews: The Eurovision Song Contest 2018

Telling your friends that you are going to bed early on a Saturday night because you have to wake up at 4am on Sunday morning to watch the Eurovision Song Contest can be met with some rather strange and confused looks. But that is the commitment that any true Australian Eurovision fan must face. This year’s contest took place in Lisbon, after Salvador Sobral’s heart-warming song ‘Amar Pelos Dois’ gave Portugal their first ever victory. Over the last few years politics has plagued Eurovision, but nevertheless the contest has endured and continues to offer all the glitz, glamour and drama we’ve come to love and expect.

Ukraine kicked off the night with a performance that can be considered pure Eurovision goodness. Wearing one pale blue contact lens, reminiscent of David Bowie, singer Melovin emerged from a coffin, that also doubled as a piano. Oh, and it also was on fire. If this isn’t exactly what you are looking for in a Eurovision performance I don’t know what is.


Unfortunately what followed were a bunch of the bland, slightly out of tune, Euro-pop numbers typical of the contest. Estonia spent their entire GDP on a giant skirt that projected images onto it and which, combined with an operatic singer, made for a pretty great spectacle. 2009 Eurovision Song Contest winner Alexander Rybak returned for another go for Norway. Having apparently not aged in the nine years between performances he had all the charm and confidence needed to win. The only thing he didn’t have was a winning song, choosing instead a song that was a how-to guide to song-writing, featuring such questionable advice as ‘sing shoobie doobie dat dat, shabba dabba hey, say all day long, and that’s how you write a song!’ Ed Sheeran’s German doppelgänger sang a heart-felt song about his dead father, Einstein played the flute for Serbia, Denmark sent a bunch of bearded Vikings, Moldova performed a comedy piece with an Ikea wardrobe as the prop, Hungary sent probably the least Eurovision-friendly song in the contest’s history opting instead for screaming metal, whilst The Netherlands tried their hand at American country rock.


Cyprus was a crowd favourite, with singer Eleni channelling Beyonce-esque dance moves that was good enough to reach second place. But on the night it was the unique Israeli entry Netta who captured the public’s imagination  with her song ‘Toy’. A song that somehow combined the very real message of the #MeToo movement with chicken impressions. I know… but it really was catchy and a worthy winner! Netta had been the favourite in the weeks leading up to the contest, but had been written off as others such as Cyprus, France and Ireland rose to the top. Out of nowhere though Austria, a good song that everyone had forgotten, won the jury vote, though could not hold onto the lead once the public vote was announced. Yet again this shows that the jury is very much out of touch with the general public.


Notable on the night was the UK’s performance where a man stormed the stage and grabbed the microphone. He was swiftly removed by security and performer SuRie continued on professionally, turning down the option to perform a second time. In the most Aussie way ever, commentator Joel Creasey called the man an ‘absolute cockhead’, earning him the respect of Twitter, including J.K. Rowling. Despite her calm reaction and the strong solidarity in the audience, SuRie still finished close to the bottom of the table, another poor result for the UK. This is the second year in a row where there has been a stage breach at the contest and security is certainly a concern going forward (especially as we will be in Israel next year).

Another notable event was that Chinese broadcaster Mango TV, shocked by Ireland’s depiction of a gay love story and even more shocked by the visible tattoos on Albanian performer’s arm, decided to censor the songs in the first semi final. The EBU’s response? To terminate Mango TV’s contract and ban them from broadcasting the final. Don’t mess with the EBU.

But let’s talk about the greatest travesty of the night: Australia’s Jessica Mauboy received the lowest public vote, finishing in 20th place, and the lowest since Australia started competing in the contest four years ago. Not since the Fall of Singapore has Australia been so let down by its European allies. There has been a lot of questioning of the EBU’s decision to let Australia compete in a European song contest and perhaps this poor polling could be seen as something of a backlash. But let’s face it, the whole competition is a bit of a joke anyway. Besides, winning nation Israel can be hardly be considered to be in Europe either. Fingers crossed Australia can bounce back and send a stronger entry next year.


Love it or hate it, its hard to deny that the modern era of Eurovision offers some slick production and makes for a bloody fun night (or early morning in my case), and I certainly look forward to doing it all again next year. Thanks Europe!




CoffeeCat Reviews: The Eurovision Song Contest 2017


  Perhaps it is just the after effects of a particularly potent punch, but today I am feeling some serious post-Eurovision blues. My girlfriend and I had spent all day actively avoiding social media and absolutely anything else that might spoil the winner of the contest prematurely – Europeans will never understand the lengths Australian fans have to go to. With our stomachs filled with food and booze and our hearts filled with expectation we finally sat down on Sunday night to watch Europe’s biggest spectacular – and it did not disappoint.

  This year’s contest was in danger of being overshadow by politics. Despite the rules of the competition discouraging political overtures, last year’s wining song was a thinly-veiled criticism of the 2014 annexation of the Crimea and this year Ukrainian authorities decided to ban the Russian performer from entering the country altogether. There were also fears of a Brexit backlash affecting the United Kingdom’s entry. But just like it does every year, Eurovision continued on oblivious of all its political imbroglios.

  The slogan for the contest was ‘celebrate diversity’, yet Kiev decided to ignore that and use three identical, and completely unqualified, white men as presenters. Their creepy flirtations with any passing female and blunders with English were at odds to an otherwise professional production. Australia’s new commentators, Myf Warhurst and Joel Creasey did well enough, though I can’t help miss the dry sarcasm of Sam Pang and Julia Zemiro’s genuine passion for the contest.

  Twenty six countries competed in the final this year, with the vast array of bizarre and kitsch performances we’ve come to expect from the contest. Sadly, Montenegro’s metre-long braid wielding Slavko Kalezić missed out on his place in the final after failing to qualify from the semi-final.


  Romania’s entry featured a catchy blend of yodeling and rap that no one has ever asked for, whilst Croatia’s Jacques Houdek performed a duet with himself, dramatically pivoting and switching voices between a tenor and a soprano throughout the song.

  Francesco Gabbani’s song for Italy, which featured a man dancing in a gorilla suit, was the overwhelming favourite coming in to the contest but only managed to finish in sixth place. Meanwhile, Moldova brought back the spirited saxophonist, the Epic Sax Guy, trying to capitalize on their internet fame and surprised everyone by finishing in third place, their best result so far.


  Even entries as disastrously bad as Azerbaijan were still entertaining. Singer Dihaj stood in front of a blackboard that was graffitied with unrelated words, whilst a man in a horse mask watched on, perhaps trying to find some artistic meaning to it all.

  Belgium’s Blanche looked rather stunned by the whole affair, barely blinking during her performance. Although no one was an unfazed as last year’s winner Jamala, who kept performing whilst a bare-arsed Australian crashed the stage during her interval performance. It was later revealed that the streaker wasn’t actually from Australia but the damage had already been done. Australia received only two points from the popular vote. Dami Im was robbed of victory last year, and now it seems like the European public are disgruntled at Australia’s participation in the competition. Of course, we aren’t the only non-European nation it the contest, with countries such as Israel having competed since the 1970s.

  Last year’s hosts, Sweden, clearly wanted to win again sending another overly manufactured pop song and dance routine. It was entertaining and finished a respectable fifth, but the night was a victory for genuine, raw music. After 48 previous attempts, Portugal finally achieved their first win in the contest with Salvador Sobral’s ‘Amar Pelos Dois’. An old fashioned love song sung by a quirky singer was enough to capture the hearts of both the jury and the public.


  In his acceptance speech Sobral criticised what he called ‘disposable music’, saying that his win was a ‘victory for real music with feeling’. Whilst I agree with his sentiments, you cannot enter Eurovision, win Eurovision and then go on to criticise the very core of Eurovision. In a competition where all songs must be under three minutes, he has certainly come to the wrong show. This isn’t the first time something out of the ordinary has won the contest. In 2006 Finish band Lordi surprised everyone by winning the contest with a hard rock song. However, it didn’t leave an impact on the contest, and the following years reverted to pop songs winning the contest. Whilst Salvador’s song was by far the best of the night I can’t see Eurovision adapting any time soon.

  Nobody really quite understands the Eurovision Song Contest but there can be no doubt that it is thoroughly entertaining. This year the atmosphere was infectiously optimistic, the standard of songs surprisingly high, and the winning song especially heart-warming.

Dr. Strange Part 2 or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Eat My Words

So I saw Doctor Strange at the cinema today. The visual effects were stunning but their biggest achievement were in reminding me just how great of a film Inception was. Plot wise Doctor Strange was as formulaic and by-the-numbers origin story as the MCU has ever made. Benedict Cumberbatch was great, although his witty charisma was lost under his fake American accent – why not just cast an American actor instead?

Nonetheless, as far as big budget blockbusters go, few have been as entertaining as Doctor Strange this year. And I have to admit I am a little excited to see how Marvel will put all these stakes together in forthcoming projects given the implications in this film.



Dr. Strange or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Supermen

The formula for superhero films is thus: Well-meaning but flawed heroes battle against their emotional demons whilst trying to take down nefarious (yet ultimately incompetent) villains who are hell-bent on taking over the world. Along the way there are lots of CGI-heavy explosions and destruction of cities with death counts in the thousands as collateral damage. And it has proven to be a mega money-making formula. But the more the film studios churn out these films, the more quickly the merge into on amorphous blob of mediocrity. This year alone we’ve already had Deadpool, Batman V Superman, Captain America: Civil War, X-Men: Apocalypse and Suicide Squad. And we’re not done yet; Doctor Strange is still coming. From 2017 to 2020 there are 16 projects due for release from Marvel and DC alone; including beloved fan-favourites we’ve all heard of, like Aquaman, Shazam and the Inhumans.

Benedict Cumberbatch as Doctor Strange in Marvel’s upcoming film.

The latest DC film, Suicide Squad, opened to a strong box office performance (spoiler alert: it’s shit). DC’s other film this year, Batman V Superman, also enjoyed a successful first week (spoiler alert: it’s even more shit). Despite negative reviews from critics, people are still flocking to see them. Even the two better superhero movies to come out this year; Deadpool with its attempted dark humour and Captain America: Civil War with its focus on antagonism between the heroes rather a super villain; still share one common flaw:

Superhero movies are essentially just long, predictable and expensive commercials for the next film.

When Avengers came out in 2012 it was something we’d never seen before. It was the pay off for what five movies had been building up to it, and for the most part it was good, dumb, goofy fun. But more importantly it made a lot of money; so much in fact that every other studio has been floundering to imitate its success even since. As a result we now have Marvel Cinematic Universe owned by Disney, the Warner Bros. DC universe, Fox’s X-Men universe (which is also a Marvel comic but not part of the Marvel universe). Oh, and Sony has the rights to Spiderman which is also a Marvel comic but wasn’t originally part of the Marvel universe except now he is after making a cameo in Captain America: Civil War. Confused yet?

You only have to consider some of the latest superhero movies, like Fantastic Four, The Amazing Spiderman 2 or Batman V Superman to notice how rushed these films are, with the studios obsessed with setting up connected universes and throwing in unnecessary cameos. As a result these movies feel more like homework requiring you to have knowledge and investment in the previous films. Captain America: Civil war was a good film, but it felt like sitting through two hours of explosions just to see Spiderman’s cameo – which would have actually had an exciting impact had I not seen him in the fucking trailer for the movie anyway. What’s worse is knowing all the actors have contracts for multiple films means that I never once actually had to fear for the safety of any of the characters involved. War Machine might be plummeting to the earth at 100km per hour, but he’s contracted until 2020 so he’ll come out just fine.

If the studios want audiences to keep paying for exorbitant ticket prices then they are going to have to lift their game. A film like the mess that is Batman V Superman is clearly just trying to pander to a fan service by throwing the two popular characters together just for the sake of it. And that’s all well and good, but it isn’t the comic-book fans who have made these movies a box-office success: it is the general movie-going public. And whilst the studios pump hundreds of millions of dollars into producing these films, the reality is that majority of these people have never actually read a comic in their life. Especially not ones about talking raccoons or ant-men. It’s reasonable to suggest that what the audience wants, and deserves, are quality movies that are fun on their own merit. Otherwise how else can you make people excited to see Doctor Strange?

I’m not suggesting that every superhero movie has to be entirely bleak and depressing like The Dark Knight to be considered a worthwhile film. The Dark Knight was exceptionally well-made, with clever dialogue, unique characterisation, an emotionally-gripping plot and realistic action sequences that didn’t over-rely on CGI. But on the complete opposite spectrum is a film like Guardians of the Galaxy. It doesn’t take itself seriously at all but still offers a (relatively) cohesive story whilst having fun characters, a great soundtrack and cool action sequences to keep it entertaining. But more importantly what Guardians has that many of its peers don’t is an entirely self-contained plot that can be enjoyed without the need to have invested in other films.

Hey, if I don’t enjoy superheros movies then I don’t have to watch them, right? But what other blockbusters is Hollywood offering me right now? Lowest common denominator trash like Transformers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or some other brand name that can be commercialised. Speaking of exploiting nostalgia for shameless name recognition, don’t even get me started on that new Ghostbusters film – the whole basis for which is that it is just like the original but this time the genders have been swapped. The original Ghostbusters is a great film but it is also a product of its time that doesn’t warrant a whole franchise being created from it.

So with Marvel releasing Doctor Strange at the end of the year – continuing the trend of scraping the bottom of the barrel to find another character to make a film with – the question is whether I will actually pay to go and see it. I really want to enjoy it and I certainly hope that Marvel can buck this trend of making predictable profit-oriented business products instead of making great films. But it’s hard to be overly optimistic.

CoffeeCat Investigates: A Week with Pokémon Go

Unless you’re as ignorant as Pauline Hanson trying to order off the menu at a kebab shop, you’ve no doubt noticed an increase in the number of individuals intently focusing on their smart phones of late. Hordes of nostalgia-driven millennials are descending upon the streets and traipsing around town determined to catch every imaginary creature they can find. Pokemon GO was only released a month ago but has spread faster than bird flu, infecting millions of phones and becoming the latest – and perhaps the single most important – cultural phenomenon of 2016. And I hate it.

     I hate it with a sense of frustrated futility as I watch every one I know slowly succumb to downloading the game. I hate the attempted commercialisation of nostalgia. I hate the constant server crashing and the glitches that plagued my time with it and I hate the lack of any deep or meaningful gameplay. But more than anything else – I hate myself for playing it anyway.

    I spent one whole week with this disappointing, deficient (yet incredibly addictive) game, playing it constantly until I had a near existential crisis.

‘I desperately wanted to catch every single one of those little bastards. But at the end of the day I wasn’t actually enjoying myself. I was miserable and distracting myself with an overly complicated pedometer.’

Pokemon mania arrived in the late 1990s with Nintendo releasing a series of popular Game Boy games and a companion television series. Soon the creatures were absolutely everywhere. I remember being swept up by this craze, religiously watching the show every morning whilst wrapped up in a blanket and admiring my trading card collection. Pokemon GO only features this original generation of Pokemon that I remember from my childhood. As such I enthusiastically downloaded it as soon as it was released, hoping for a trip down nostalgia-lane. I persisted through the myriad of technical problems the game had upon release and set out for a walk in my local park. But no sooner had I begun immersing myself in the fanciful world of my long-forgotten childhood than my phone died. I was to discover that Pokemon GO churned through a phone battery faster than Donald Trump changes his policies.

    Later that day, with the addition of a newly purchased portable battery charger on hand, I set back out on my journey only to come to yet another depressing realisation; Pokemon GO is nothing like the games I so fondly remember playing as a child. Sure, Pokemon games have never been particularly complex. The plot of the games revolves around the adventures of children who are actively encouraged to forgo seeking an education and instead to roam the wilderness seeking wild animals and then forcing said animals to fight one another. The combat system of the games has never been particularly complicated and usually just involves the simple strategy of choosing the type of Pokemon your opponent is weak to. Even the Pokemon designs lack any real sense of creativity. There’s a seal Pokemon called Seel, a pigeon named Pidgey and a monkey called Mankey. Nonetheless, the games undoubtedly hold a simplistic charm which has seen the franchise manage to continue for 20 years releasing what is effectively the same game every few years with a make over and the addition of a new bunch of creatures.

    But all these gameplay mechanics that made the franchise so popular are nowhere to be found in Pokemon GO. In fact even calling it a game implies a very liberal definition of the term. Using a player’s smart phone camera and GPS signal the game makes it seem as if wild Pokemon are populating the real world. Whilst walking around real-world locations players may encounter these creatures and attempt to catch them. But this action is done with a simple swiping of one’s finger across the phone screen. Pokemon GO also offers an under-developed gym battling mechanic, but that just boils down to tapping the screen as fast as possible.

    Yet despite all my criticisms of the game something drew me in and kept me playing it anyway. On the third day I organised to catch up with my best friend so we could play the game together. We walked along the beach for an hour enthusiastically catching anything that crossed our paths. But at the same time there was this strange sense of embarrassment at how public our actions were. Almost everywhere we walked we encountered other people playing the game, but every time our paths crossed the players would lower their phones so we couldn’t see what they were doing and avert their gaze. It’s reminiscent of that awkward exchange you share with a dog owner when you witness their dog taking a shit in public: you know that the owner has no plans of picking up the shit and is merely waiting for you to move out of sight so he can walk on as if nothing happened. And the owner knows that you know this too. That is Pokemon GO in a nutshell – a bunch of adults ashamed of their actions but doing them anyway.

  On the fourth night things started getting weirder. At one stage I found myself running out of the house into the pouring rain just because the game told me a rare Pokemon was nearby. By the fifth night – due to it being cold and rainy – I decided to drive around to find new areas instead of walking. I pulled over outside a local playground that happened to house a Pokemon gym and proceed to ‘battle’ there. There’s something profoundly sombre about the moment you realise that you’re in your mid-twenties and sitting in your car outside a playground at eleven at night trying to catch another Pokemon whilst thinking ‘this isn’t how I thought my life would turn out.’


     I’m not sure what it was about Pokemon GO that had engulfed me so much that week. Maybe it was just the appeal to my nostalgia, believing that if I kept catching and evolving Pokemon I could re-live some remnant of time when I was happier and care-free. Or maybe it appealed to a sense of completionism, as I desperately wanted to catch every single one of those little bastards. But at the end of the day I wasn’t actually enjoying myself. I was miserable and distracting myself with an overly complicated pedometer.

    Now sure, I will admit that there are some positives to Pokemon GO. The game encourages people to get outside in the real world, socialise and to do and see ‘real’ things. But let’s not kid ourselves. In order to play the game you need to constantly look at your phone, and every time I ventured down to a local PokeStop all I could see were players standing around, squinting at their phones and ignoring one another. Nature is intrinsically beautiful, and essentially gamifying such basic pursuits as going outside is not the right way to experience it. I am very comfortable with my game/life balance and I don’t see the need to mix the two or to pretend that playing Pokemon GO is somehow socially superior to playing PlayStation in my bedroom. AR technology is clever, and I suspect we will see many interesting new things as other companies try to cash in on the success of Pokemon GO. But all Pokemon GO is really doing is distracting us from the very environment it tries to entice us into. Instead of sitting indoors staring mindlessly at our screens we are now unwittingly experiencing the outdoors whilst staring mindlessly at our screens.

    At the end of the day I’m sure there are many people out there who are having fun playing Pokemon GO. But you’ve got to admit, it’s a bit fucking weird isn’t it?