Eurovision 1991: It's a tie for first place in the year Malta returns, the presenters can't present and a future EastEnder does badly for the UK
How much you enjoy the 1991 Eurovision Song Contest depends on how much you enjoy watching an already lackadaisical production completely collapse around itself. The main hurdle concerning an Italian-hosted Eurovision is that the Song Contest itself was inspired by the San Remo Festival, the composition competition which remains big news in Italy each year and is held in much higher esteem across the wider music world than its pan-European little brother. With that in mind, why go to all the trouble of giving a hamburger the hard sell when you've got allcomers flocking to sample your sirloin steak?
To be fair to the Italians, they did consider hosting the '91 Contest in San Remo, in an effort to bring the inspired and its inspiration together. But with the Gulf War being declared in January, security became an issue, so the whole production was moved to Rome and the unusual venue of the Cinecitta Film Studios, where Fellini based many of his projects and large parts of Ben Hur was filmed. Sixteen years later, the Doctor Who episode The Fires of Pompeii would have its Roman exterior scenes filmed there as well (we'll always fit in a Eurovision/Doctor Who crossover when we can). But while Cinecitta was tailor made for film-making, it perhaps wasn't the greatest place to hold a Song Contest - although the ending to this chaotic evening couldn't have been dreamed up by a barful of Hollywood scriptwriters.
No other Eurovision before or since has looked remotely like Rome '91. The stage appeared to be dressed with some scenery left over from Cleopatra and the orchestra is sort-of-shoved over to one side while the entries had to perform in the space that was left. Presenters Gigliola Cinquetti (the 1964 winner and 1974 silver medaller, now 41 years old but looking a lot older) and reigning champ Toto Cutugno introduced each act while reading from clipboards - and usually about four feet away from the nervous singer/s. It all looked very amateurish, very laid back and more like talent night down the Legion as opposed to a competition being broadcast to more than 20 countries simultaneously.
Toto Cutugno - the only man ever to conduct an imaginary orchestra while presenting Eurovision
Problems became even more apparent as the voting began. Gigliola Cinquetti is clearly an Italian icon - the jury's still out on Toto - but it was quite clear that a mastery of either the French or English, the stock parlance for Eurovision, would not be found too close to the top of their respective CVs. Toto became so visibly wound up when the task of translating each score from the jury spokesperson into French and English became too much for him that he constantly called for assistance from Contest scrutineer Frank Naef, who was forced to intervene as the scores were called. Gigliola was far breezier about the whole thing, although you couldn't go as far to say that she found the experience of presenting the Eurovision Song Contest an enthralling one. She looks positively fed up in parts. It's a shame, then, that all the exuberant showboating from Mr Cutugno overshadowed the most exciting result there's ever been.
Your shambolically assembled 1991 facts:
Winner 1991: Carola performs Fangad Av En Stormvind for Sweden
(a) Sweden won the Eurovision Song Contest for the third time in 1991, with Carola casting aside the monkey of third place in 1983 from her back to triumph with the song Fangad Av En Stormvind. But she had to wait for a stewards' enquiry before she could be confident of victory. After Italy, the last of the 22 juries, had cast its vote, Sweden had 146 points. The only thing was, France also had 146 points. For the first time since 1969, two countries had tied for first place.
But unlike - and inspired by - the mayhem in Madrid, there was now a rule in place to allow one outright winner. As each jury ranks its favourite songs, it was thought only fair that whoever scored the most douzes out of the two acts would be declared the winner. Both Sweden and France had four 12s apiece, so the judges then took the amount of '10' scores into account. With Sweden's five 10s to France's two, Carola was announced victorious after an anxious wait, with the result causing her to do a jig on the green room sofa. With Toto's constant chat and bluster causing the show to overrun by half an hour, Carola reprised her song, which translates as Captured By a Lovestorm, to bring Eurovision's most chaotic transmission ever to a conclusion.
We'll get to the French entry which came second on countback in a minute, but there is absolutely no comparison between the two songs. Carola's song (the hookline of which neatly fits the phrase: 'Grandad and his Warm Wind') was a piece of pap that had been heard many, many times before while the French song was, well, as we said, we're getting to that...
(b) Just as in 1990, there is no embeddable version of the 1991 French entry we can plonk into this Bluffer's Guide, but you can see it here. Amina brought a very different sort of song to the Eurovision stage in 1991 and her originality very nearly paid off. Mixing almost Arabian sounds with a classy, dreamlike performance, C'est La Dernier... was the sort of new-age sound that would take a stranglehold on Eurovision four or five years later but it was just a little too ahead of its time in Rome.
When interviewed by a sympathetic Channel 4 documentary team in 2000, Amina said with a mischievous twinkle her experience was "funny" and, to be honest, she thought the whole thing was a load of rubbish and had little interest in it so long afterwards. Carola, on the other hand, just can't seem to let go of this event as the years have progressed, not content with merely winning it once and has made other shots at the trophy.
Boom Bang a Blog knows which of 1991's two winners it would rather go for a pint with.
Datz a very good attempt at winning Eurovision (oh, my sides...)
(c) When Italy cast its votes at the end of the evening, France was in third place, behind Sweden and Israel. It was Amina that got the douze, with the two front runners ignored altogether, but it was still possible for Duo Datz to take the '91 title right up until the final moment.
Boom Bang a Blog must confess in not seeing the appeal of Kaan (a sentiment we clearly share with the crew of the Starship Enterprise). It's an Israeli Eurovision entry by numbers, but as 1991 was a very weak year songwise, the typical in-your-face anthemics and simple choreography made it stand out - especially when you consider how difficult it was for any act to make an impact on the Cinecitta stage.
Sergio Dalma and his hair taking fourth place. Down girls.
(d) Although the 1991 Eurovision was the second one I watched, it still hadn't quite caught my imagination, probably because this production would make even the die-hards struggle. However, I do remember my older sister and her pal, who were watching it with me, go all giggly and girlie over Spain's entrant, Sergio Dalma.
He did had the voice to go with the cheesy lothario image, however, and Bailar Pegados was Spain's best result in years, finishing in fourth place and getting squeals of appreciation from my big sis whenever a favourable score went his way and Europe was treated to a shot of Sergio in the green room being suitably thankful. Toto Cutugno also made a big fuss of Young Master Dalma as he left the stage which didn't sit that well with the neutrality a Eurovision presenter is supposed to display.
Not that it mattered. Italy didn't vote for him.
"Goodness, are we in Rome? What a coincidence - my song's in Italian!"
(e) As 1991 was a weakish year, Switzerland sending a tribute to its triumphant ditty of three years earlier was enough to secure a top five finish.
And how convenient that, with four languages to choose from, the tongue the Swiss just happened to plump for in a Contest held in Rome was, bless my soul, Italian. Gigliola Cinquettu seemed very pleased to be introducing a song with the title Canzone Per Te as she wandered off stage with her clipboard - probably off to catch QVC in the wings for a few minutes so she could order another very sensible frock to go with the one she was wearing.
All the kids in Valletta dressed like these two in the Summer of '91
(f) The 1991 Contest coincided with Dutch Remembrance Day, so there was no entry from the Netherlands. This vacancy led the EBU to acquiesce and allow the extra-keen Maltese back into Eurovision - for one year only. But when the Maltese entry, Could It be, performed by a pair we presume double-up as a Captain and Tenille tribute act, ended up coming sixth with an impressive 106 points (and the Irish douze) the Eurovision bosses couldn't exactly cast them out into the mean streets of non-participation again so the number of entries for 1992 was bumped up to 23 to allow them in again. Malta haven't missed a Contest since and have done considerably better than the Dutch in the intervening years.
"For ludo you'll still need a pair of dice." At least we think that's what she's singing.
(g) It's a candidate for the most patronising song ever written. Although Band Aid had quite successfully brought home the message about starving children in Africa seven years earlier, British composer Paul Curtis thought Europe needed another reminder as the '90s dawned. Bob Geldof and Midge Ure had sent a message to people's hearts with a stark anthem that resonated with the international populace.
Paul Curtis and the BBC did it by having newcomer Samantha Janus squeezed into a pink basque, dripping in jewellery and caterwauling through a driving rock-pop jingle called A Message To Your Heart. It finished 10th with 47 points and the single made number 30 in the British charts. We can't bear to think about the preachier than a preacherman lyrics, so we'll have to direct you here if you're curious.
Let's get one thing straight. In Eurovision terms, it's a really good tune which has bags more oomph in the studio version and you get a better idea about the impact the UK team wanted to make when you look at the Song For Europe performance. If only that tune had been married with different lyrics, one about falling in love, fancying someone rotten or, perhaps, being held immobile in a lovestorm.
Samantha Janus, of course, went on to far greater success and is now Ronnie Mitchell in EastEnders. She refuses to discuss her Eurovision appearance on chat shows and has openly described it as the lowpoint of her career. Really, Sam? It wasn't much fun for the British public to sit through on the night, either.
The oldest woman in the world sings and dances for Yugoslavia
(h) Austria got zilch in Rome and finished last. But very nearly joining them in the nul points club was the previous year's hosts and 1989 winners, Yugoslavia.
Opening the show, Bebi Doll performed the extremely lively Brazil - and only the jury in Malta liked it, awarding it the solitary point it would receive all night.
Good job she was up first and not last. She'd need the extra time to recover in case she won and had to put her aged frame through all that again.
Although it remains the Acorn Antiques of Eurovision and is easier to enjoy now than it was back then, let's be thankful a production like the 1991 Eurovision was a one off.
The Contest was going back to Sweden in 1992 where that precise Scandinavian workmanship soon got things shipshape again. And as 23 nations prepared to assemble in Malmo, it marked the beginning of an unprecedented run of success for the country which is still the most prolific to have taken part in Eurovision.
Bet you can't guess who we're talking about...
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I'm still in awe of the fact that Baby Doll was unleashed upon the unsuspecting European public as Yugoslavia's 1991 entry. The Yugoslavs trying to turn Rome into Latin America for three minutes, with what can only be described as drag on acid is genius! The song is about creating a new kind of dance, with the end result of the partakers getting naked!!! Thankfully the language rule in place at the time ensured most people didn't get this! The dancing is atrocious and Baby Doll herself is totally out of tune. The RAI orchestra didn't help matters and massacred the song completely (not the only time that night they did so) and turned the guitar solo into a joke. If anyone laments the loss of the orchestra at Eurovision, 1991 is a great year to show how bad some of the orchestras have been in the past. The camera director also thinks that half-way through the song's proceedings would be a great time to show off the Italian film set used as the stage!!! All in all, car crash telly at its best!
The UK entry, as tasteless and patronising as it is, it wasn't based on the Band Aid song, rather the Phil Collins song Another Day in Paradise, which had been a big hit the previous year for him, and then very soon afterwards there was a dance version which did well in the charts. It was also the second year in a row that Paul Curtis wanted to be scattering crumbs of stale bread in front of little brown babies. His song the previous year had much the same sentiment.
Does anyone know whatever happened to Paul Curtis, by the way?
I remember the UK song being very pertinent at the time with the stories of the kids in the Romanian orphanages all over the news, as well as various droughts taking place in Africa, flooding in Bangladesh... not to mention all the upheaval that was going on in a USSR rapidly haemorrhaging its constituent parts. World peace, huge global chage and a new age of global cooperation was big time on the cards - however idealised and naïve that may sound now with hindsight!
I think that's what Paul Curtis and the BBC were hitting on, and it's a theme that definitely resonated with the UK public at the SFE helped along by a pulsing beat and an anthemic chorus.
By the time it got to Rome though, it just seemed so lame and silly, with Samantha Janus just appearing as a poor imitation of Emma the year before (and my God that's saying something). The song didn't work well with RAI's "orchestra", losing all the punch of the studio mix, and dressing Sam in glitz and pink just seemed so contradictory to the point the song was trying to make.
All in all... hideousness of the highest order!
Nice review - but I'm amazed you haven't mentioned Greece and possibly the worst massacre of a song by an orchestrra ever.
Hello Closet Eurovision Geekette. I haven't forgotten Greece, but I can understand why it looks like that. These aren't meant to be comprehensive guides to the ins and outs of each Contest, just a general idea. If I wrote about every entry in every guide, there'd be no way I could fill the gap between the 2010 and 2011 Contests...
It's amazing how Samatha Janus thinks being in Eurovision is worse than being in Up N Under. At least people watched Eurovision without their eyes bleeding.
1991 is a real anomaly. A year with a production unrivalled in its mediocrity (and it has it all, too - unfinished stage, confused presenters, terrible orchestra) - yet at the same time a plethora of fantastic songs, so I must disagree with you on it being a weak year, Jamie. Nonetheless, I am surprised that you didn't mention one VERY glaring thing about the contest - it was presented entirely in ITALIAN ONLY! If that's not breaking the rules, I don't know what is. I think it was a great crime for the contest that Amina didn't win - I personally think it makes more sense that a proper winner would get points from more countries (as Amina did) - btw, thanks for linking to my upload of her performance.
You could write a book on the 1991 contest, from the saxophone incident that ruined the chances of the Greek "Anixi" to the has-to-be-seen-to-be-believed interval act by Arturo Brachetti. I have a feeling Frank Neuf was quite relieved when the night was over.
I nearly forgot to mention the criminally under-rated Finnish entry. The fact that it ended the night with a single digit score when the likes of Kaan did so well is a real travesty.
Well you could never fault 1991 for its opening act, the truly magnificent Bebi Dol. Having puzzled over its peculiar preview video, I looked forward immensely to Bebi’s live performance and wasn’t disappointed. Why wasn’t this fighting it out with Carola & Amina for first place? This really was not a vintage year for songs. The Swedish winner was quite dreadful and her wild jerky, spasmodic dancing should have confined Carola to the lower reaches of the scoreboard. Duo Datz were the typical ‘based on an Israeli folk song’ effort with the compulsory sideways dancing. I have to say this was really very professional and perhaps should have won. There really weren’t many others I liked this year, though Sandra Simó for Switzerland was fantastic. I loved the little crinkling of the nose thing she did every now and then. Sarah Bray from Luxembourg should have scored much higher than she. Also I seem to be one of the few ESC fans that loved Germany’s ‘Dieser Traum Darf Niemals Sterben’ which was cruelly overlooked. Turkey’s entry was fun and indicated a change in their songs away from ethno stuff to the occasional Eurovisiony pop that has become the norm in the past few years. I did feel sorry for Thomas ‘Baggy Pants’ Forstner’s Austrian entry which I didn’t think was bad at all. I won’t add to the opprobrium showered over Samantha Janus’ song. The girl has suffered enough.
Yeah. Poor lass. And she's yet to discover that the father of her freshly conceived child is buried beneath a sapling.
If you've ever seen a live broadcast of a San Remo festival, you'll suddenly understand what RAI were trying to accomplish with the 1991 contest's production.
To say San Remo is casual is an understatement. The thing drags on for five hours a night over five nights; Italian celebrities of all shapes, sizes, and ages drop by for a chat with the host; a pretty girl in a prettier dress promenades down a giant staircase about every 20 minutes; and somewhere in there they manage to have a song contest. And each night at the end of the proceedings they cut to a studio in Rome where a different set of Italian celebrities sit around and talk for another three hours about what just happened up north.
If you ever want to know why Mussolini gets so much credit for making the trains run on time, watch San Remo some time and you'll understand.