Fabulously Flamboyant Friday: The 2025 Eurovision Song Contest Preview

Welcome back my friends, to the flamboyance that never ends, as Fabulously Flamboyant Friday glides effortlessly across the neatly trimmed crease to deliver yet another groin-polished googly from the gasworks end of musical magnificence.

Let joy be unconfined – It’s that time of year again… EUROVISION!!!

Don your taffeta and sequinned best, pull on your bondage trousers, lube up your chaps and please be welcome our gushing preview of the annual festival of flounce and flamboyance that we all know and love as the Eurovision Song Contest.

Grand Final Night is almost upon us, and, as I type this missive, our second semi is already in hand. By the time you read this post, the Grand Final will be only 24 hours away. My hands are already trembling with anticipation and excitement, so please excuse any typos caused by my giddy exuberance.

The music will of course be sensational (well, mostly awful, if truth be told, with perhaps the occasional gem) but oh my – the costumes and routines, the frocks and the flounces, will all, I’m sure, be simply fabulous darling.

However, we mustn’t get ahead of ourselves and boil over with premature exultation. So tonight we take a deep breath and gird our loins for tomorrow night’s excess with a look back at some of the controversies that have, over the years, dogged what is – without the slightest scintilla of doubt – the greatest (well, certainly the most fabulously flamboyant) musical contest on the planet.

This article was inspired by a story I spotted in Pink News suggesting a 1974 Eurovision entry brought an end to 50 years of fascist dictatorship in Portugal. That’s a bold claim, I thought, and certainly one worthy of closer examination; and, surprisingly, there does seem to be more than a slither of truth to the tale – sort of…

Paulo de Carvalho’s E Depois do Adeus, Portugal’s deeply unsuccessful entry in that year’s Eurovision contest, was apparently broadcast on Lisbon radio on the 24th of April, 1974 as the prearranged signal for the start of the Carnation Revolution, a military and civilian uprising that did in fact succeed in bringing down the curtain on 50 years of fascist dictatorship in Portugal.

Interestingly, it also seems to have triggered the end of the Portuguese imperialist dream. As Portugal’s troops flooded back from their colonies to the motherland, Guinea-Bissau, Cape Verde, Mozambique, São Tomé, Angola and East Timor all told Portugal where they could shove their colonialist rule and grabbed their chance for independence. Blimey! The power of Eurovision, eh? Crushing leftist dictatorships and freeing nations since the sensational seventies.

But that’s not the end of the fascist shenanigans associated with Eurovision. Cast you minds back to the dark and nefarious days of the 1968 Eurovision Song Contest, when our national treasure, Cliff Richard, delivered a magnificently magnificent performance of Congratulations, only to lose, unjustly, by just one rotten, lousy, stinking point, to Spain’s Massiel who sang the deeply tedious La La La, or Bing, Bang, Bong, or Boom, Bang, Tinkle, or some such equally trite and entirely forgettable Euro-trash nonsense.

Cliff is widely believed to have been Eurovision’s first victim of political voting (and perhaps even vote rigging) after he lost to Spain by that single rotten, lousy, stinking point. Rumours swirling at the time suggested a flurry of left-wing vote rigging, with Spain’s General Franco apparently sending his foul and loathsome minions scuttling to the far corners of Europe to bribe, er… I mean entice, participating nations with promises of lucrative TV programme purchases. I suppose that’s just the sort of low trick you’d expect from a left-winger, but it was a successful ploy as Spain won and The Blessed Cliff lost by one rotten, lousy, stinking point.

Anyway, I think that’s quite enough fascism for the moment. We’ll move on from politics for now and consider Sexy Time! I think we’ll start in 1957 and the infamous televised Euro-snog, courtesy of the Danish entry, Birthe Wilke and Gustav Winckler. The pair ended their routine with a kiss and a cuddle, that rapidly became an extended and somewhat enthusiastic snog. Viewers at the time were, apparently, outraged. However, to be fair, and given the somewhat broad-minded nature nature of Danes (as judged by the standards of the Danish porn industry – not that I’m overly familiar with its output) I think those outraged viewers should count their blessings – quite frankly, they got off lightly.

Not wishing to be outdone, the Finns, in 2012, got in on the action as well – with a spot of hot girl-on-girl action, no less. Krista Siegfrids of Finland sparked a bit of a backlash after she kissed her girlfriend during her Eurovision performance as a political comment on her country’s ban on gay weddings. Miss Siegfrids’ song, Marry Me, was also a protest against the Finnish parliament’s decision to turn down a vote on gay marriage legislation in 2012. Greek and Turkish newspapers apparently published furious responses, complaining that Finland’s hot girl-on-girl action broke Eurovision rules or something. Spoilsports.

And, as unlikely as it now seems, Bucks Fizz, winners in 1981, caused a bit of a furore when the girls, Jay Aston and Cheryl Baker, had their skirts whipped off, mid performance, by the lads in the band. By today’s standards this was all pretty tame stuff, but it really was considered a bit risqué at the time.

Compare and contrast with last year’s event when fans were left clutching their pearls at the raunchy antics of the UK’s Olly Alexander, Slovenia’s scantily clad Raiven and Ireland’s entry, Bambie Thug. Some Eurovision fans tuning into last year’s semi-finals were apparently “aghast” by the fabulously flamboyant, near-adult content on display. I suppose there is some merit in their moans, as Eurovision does still bill itself as a family show.

And we should of course give mention to both Dana International and Conchita Wursts for their groundbreaking and controversial victories. Dana International became the first transgender Eurovision winner when she bagged first place for Israel in 1998; and the bearded Austrian drag queen, Conchita Wurst, caused controversy in 2014 with a beardy-weirdy victory that raised more than a few eyebrows at the time. Several countries actually threatened to cut Conchita’s performance, but they were soon forced into a u-turn by the European Broadcasting Union and Conchita subsequently romped home to a victory that became a hirsute symbol of European tolerance and freedom and stuff.

Despite being promoted as a non-political event, Eurovision has often found itself bogged down in the mire of geo-political controversy. In 2017 the host nation, Ukraine, banned Russia’s Eurovision act, Yulia Samoylova, from entering the country. Just a few weeks later Russia decided to pull out of the contest completely, with Russian TV announcing that it would not broadcast or take part in the contest. The evil Putler has of course since taken brutal revenge for this utterly unacceptable snub.

However, Eurovision is not unfamiliar with political disputes and there have been many earlier examples of political shenanigans: in the1970s: Austria withdrew citing discomfort with the voting system and the contest’s growing politicization; and Greece flounced after Turkey’s inclusion, citing Cyprus, unsurprisingly, as their reason. Then, in the 1980s, Morocco withdrew (partly due to Israel’s participation) and Greece withdrew, again, with the state broadcaster citing discomfort with the contest’s political alignments.

In the 1990s the Netherlands withdrew due to scheduling conflicts with Remembrance Day (well done!) and Yugoslavia’s participation ended in 1992 amid that nation’s political disintegration. Georgia withdrew in 2009 after its song, We Don’t Wanna Put In, a not very subtle jab at Vladimir Putin, was rejected by the EBU for being far too political. Georgia promptly threw their toys out of the pram and flounced.

Lebanon planned to debut in 2005, but withdrew when they were told they had to broadcast Israel’s entry, and in 2019 Ukraine withdrew after its entrant refused to sign a contract prohibiting political statements. Russia was of course banned in 2022 after invading Ukraine, prompting Russian broadcasters to withdraw from the EBU entirely.

Last year, Israel’s participation (amid the ongoing Gaza conflict) sparked significant calls for a boycott, with over 2,000 artists signing open letters of support for a withdrawal. Eventually, no countries officially boycotted the event, but several threatened non-participation. It has of course rumbled on this year with Slovenia, Spain, Iceland, and Ireland all pushing for the exclusion of Israel due to its Gaza operations.

And we shouldn’t forget the fuss and bother over Australia taking part in Eurovision, first starting in 2015. Our Antipodean cousins were not chosen at random, as it was more a case of the EBU spotting a chance to expand their empire. The Aussies are huge Eurovision fans. The Australian network SBS has been broadcasting the contest for more than 30 years and they get some seriously impressive viewing figures (given the Aussie TV output of Neighbours, Prisoner Cell Block H and Home & Away, I’m really not that surprised). The Aussies did well and very nearly won it in 2016, but just lost out to Ukraine.

In 2018, some nutter ran onto the stage as the UK’s SuRie was half-way through her performance of Storm, grabbed her microphone and started banging on about Nazis in the UK media. SuRie opted for the traditional stiff upper lip option and decided to keep calm and carry on (sound lass) which prompted Graham Norton to describe her as a ‘national heroine’. Aww,.. Bless.

And I think that’s probably quite enough of my inane ramblings for this evening. Fingers crossed for a fabulously flamboyant event tomorrow night and, of course, a damn good, belt-off-trousers-down thrashing of the competition by our gallant girls.