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whenitsdarkweilluminate · 5 years ago

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Munich 1983

Host: Germany Participants: 20 Voting method: 12-point system (juries only)

Winner: Corinne Hermès - Si la vie est cadeau Country: Luxembourg Points: 142 (62.3% of highest score possible) Language: French

General Overview:

This year's presenter is Marlene Charell, who is a major part of the show. She gives excessively long song introductions, she communicates everything in 3 languages (German, English and French) and she performs as the lead dancer in the ballet interval. She also opens the program by announcing the 20 countries, as the respective artists walk onto the stage. Which is a prototype for the flag parade seen today; albeit 3 decades too early.

There are no postcards this year. Instead, we stare at the country name for a while as we hear '80s music. Then Marlene introduces every songwriter, conductor and artist, while standing beside a different floral arrangement that resembles the respective flag colours. Later, during the voting, she repeats every vote in 3 languages, fumbling over the translations several times. This vote reveal is glacially slow (I usually switch to 1.5 speed to get through it). Indeed the 1983 contest is as dragged out as Jerusalem 1979. It finishes around the 3-hour mark; whereas the past few contests were closer to 2.5 hours. The top 4 was very close though, like '81.

1983 also employs one of my least favourite stage designs. The platform is a narrow strip, featuring a set of flashing lights built around some scaffolding. It just looks like an industrial warehouse and I dislike the lighting.

Italy and Greece return; as does France under a different broadcaster. Meanwhile Ireland withdraws due to a workers' strike. The only other contest Ireland has missed since debuting was their 2002 relegation.

I'll say 1983 is a strong year. Well... actually, my top 10 is very strong. There's still quite a few weak and messy entries. But at least the bad entries are memorable.

France: Guy Bonnet - Vivre The 1970 balladeer returns. I love this sombre, solemn, haunting atmosphere. It's different from France's usual ballads. That reappearing piano riff is bone-chilling. The backing singers enhance the mood whenever they appear. The verses hold tension until the “Loin, loin, si loin...” part shrinks back. The violin break and the quicker bridge offer a temporary escape. And there's a dramatic ending. The “viiiiivre”s are also a good hook. The lyrics advise living and loving again, despite all the pain that happens after two lovers depart forever.

Norway: Jahn Teigen - Do Re Mi Jahn's third and final entry is about the music scale, which just makes me think of The Sound of Music. It's a silly and basic concept, but the cutesy backing singers provide a strong pre-chorus. Anita kisses Jahn at one point too. The song opens with the pianist playing that scale. Then it becomes a calm sunny acoustic guitar thing. And the last chorus increases the tempo. However, the chorus is weird, where Jahn is out of sync with the “do re mi...”s from the backing.

United Kingdom: Sweet Dreams - I'm Never Giving Up The UK sends another joyful song with group choreo, just like '81 and '82. The trio dances around some barstools, which fall over during the last chorus transition. They also release flower petals. The instrumental is very hectic and dominant, and it kinda drowns things out. It throws in some panicked piano, drum stutters, and twinkle bells. The pre-chorus escalation is great though (including the horns) and the chorus pushes through nicely. The lyrics are straightforward – they refuse to give up on this relationship.

Sweden: Carola Häggkvist - Främling The first of Carola's three entries in three different decades! I love that ominous guitar that starts each verse and how her joyful shouting escalates the pre-chorus. There's a big note in the chorus too. Her vocals are impressive. The song has good energy. And her dancing is camp. But the chorus melody is a little underwhelming. Still, Carola's charisma makes me love the song anyways. In the lyrics, she begs this person to open up because they're like a stranger keeping secrets. Also, was that a mic fail at the start?

Italy: Riccardo Fogli - Per Lucia The chorus is impactful, with the ominous church bells, Riccardo's intense passion (he sounds like he's on his knees), and how his voice raises halfway through it. The song's atmosphere is like carrying a heavy burden during a dark night. The lyrics list the extreme things Riccardo will do for this Lucia girl, because she means that much to him. Almost like he isn't doing enough. The accordion adds a Mediterranean feeling and the flute transitions are nice.

Turkey: Çetin Alp & the Short Waves - Opera This is a confusing mess. After that “ahhh” + drum build-up intro, the song goes from classical to jazzy to...the most random switch-up ever. It becomes 1920s Vaudeville with an excessive amount of “opera!”s and “lay lay lay”s that are beyond annoying. It's such a sudden energy change. Then it returns to classical as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, the backing dancers wear a bunch of historical costumes. The lyrics list various famous works, composers, and opera terms. I guess this guy loves opera.

Spain: Remedios Amaya - ¿Quién maneja mi barca? This is an iconic mess. The blue curtain dress. The random camera angles of her feet. Her wobbly vocals that sound like she's summoning demons. The wonky beat, with the drum slaps and funky guitar. The lyrics repeating the same demands over and over again. There's also a heavy heartbeat + cymbal crash intro, some tense orchestra moments, and chorus clacks. This is definitely a 'love it or hate it' entry, and I struggle to listen to it multiple times. Flamenco rarely does well in Eurovision.

Switzerland: Mariella Farré - Io così non ci sto I often forget about this song. It's nothing special. The acoustic guitar verses are fine, and I like when the backing intensifies the second verse, but the chorus is kinda annoying. Mariella provides some emphatic vocals and stage presence though. There's also some string transitions and chorus stops. The lyrics are about how she doesn't like being “the other woman”. It's just casual sex – he'll return to his wife later.

Finland: Ami Aspelund - Fantasiaa Finland is back on track! It's a haunting yet playful song. There's a dangerous intro, then the orchestra stops, and the piano is extremely restless in the verses, as the backing turn their heads. The chorus becomes this super cluttered and overwhelming thing, but in a very epic way. Especially when it heightens halfway through. And I LOVE that false start into the second chorus, followed by Ami's sideways hip walk lol. In the lyrics, she's curious about this mysterious guy who brings his dog to the park. She wonders if it's a fantasy.

Greece: Christie Stasinopoulou - Mou les Yawns. The verses are like a dreamy fairytale, but Christie's voice makes me sleepy. And the chorus just sounds messy and 'off'. Then the bridge randomly switches to jazz for some reason. In the lyrics, her lover is nostalgic for ships and trains, so she'll close the ports and stations to make him stay. That sounds controlling.

Netherlands: Bernadette - Sing Me a Song Cute and catchy, but also repetitive and basic. Bernadette wants everyone to “sing her a song” so she can better understand the world. Every genre and race is invited. The contrast between the verses and chorus is interesting. The former are more childlike and delicate, with the bells and falsetto vocals. While the latter inserts a driving beat and lowers the vocals. The backing also heighten the chorus midway through.

Yugoslavia: Daniel - Džuli Yugoslavia matches their best placement. It's also their first top 10 since 1972. “Džuli” is a fun, feelgood, retro, rockabilly-type song. The instrumental is consistently energetic. The jumping piano, the bass, and the accordion are highlights. As is the chorus, with the tongue-clicking beat, Daniel's scratchy stretched-out “Juuuuulie”s, the horn responses, and the camera cuts to the smiling clapping dancers. He looks confident on stage too. I also love when the violins enact the key change. In the lyrics, he misses his summer romance with Julie.

Cyprus: Stavros & Constantina - I agapi akoma zi The verse melody is quite strong, and the way it intensifies midway is pretty powerful. But this entry is way too wholesome. Like when the backing singers smile and sing to each other. Or when the instrumental drops out for that overly sweet refrain. Or how the lyrics wish for the world to sing along to “love is still alive”. The orchestra also sounds like a family sitcom theme; the intro in particular. It is uplifting though. And the intense ending is okay.

Germany: Hoffmann & Hoffmann - Rücksicht Germany's host entry extends their top 5 steak. The brothers give a genuine and heartfelt performance, and the song is such a vibe. It has a cathartic finality feeling of finding closure. The lyrics are reflective, where the narrator tries to figure out why his relationship ended, throwing out various suggestions. Ultimately they were selfish and lacked consideration. The song is mainly soft rock. Each verse begins with a blues guitars. While the chorus pauses and the '80s synth responses stick with me.

Denmark: Gry Johansen - Kloden drejer I'm usually a sucker for '80s instrumentals, but this chorus is so flat and the dancing is so... amateur? The drums and the guitar just drag the chorus down. The verses are better, where the melody is more active, and there's some horns and tense strings. But there's just... not much happening here. The lyrics imply there's always a new tomorrow. I believe she's trying to help this person that sent an S.O.S.

Israel: Ofra Haza - Hi Israel performing in Munich was significant because of WWII and the 1972 Olympics massacre. Appropriately, “Hi” celebrates still being alive. It's a similar entry to “Hora”, by having a slick choreo routine with big smiles. It starts with the backing members wandering in the background. Then they turn around and go “ahhhh”. But it's the chorus movements that are so hypnotic, where all 6 walk in a circle, hop like puppets, and step left and right. That chorus is catchy AF too, with the “HI HI HI” party chants and the “...SABA” emphasis that follows. There's also the big horn intro, the bouncy verse beat, the backing ad libs in verse 2, Ofra's big vocals in the pre-chorus, the bridge breakdowns, and the dramatic ending. Yeah, this is my favourite Israeli entry ever.

Portugal: Armando Gama - Esta balada que te dou Armando gives an honest and heartfelt performance to accompany his comforting piano ballad. It's a fairly simple arrangement. The melody is nice, the title phrase sticks out, and the electric guitar solo is unexpected in a good way. I also like when the drums enter. It's one of those songs I often forget about, but when I hear it again, I really like it. Armando wrote this song to cherish his relationship that faded away.

Austria: Westend - Hurricane Austria brings a modern '80s production, with lots of walking across the stage, a random ballet dancer, and some ugly gym outfits. But I just zone out during this song. It's so empty and the chorus goes nowhere with those repetitive “hurricane, hurricane, hurricane”s. The “DUN DUN”s in the verses are alright though. The lyrics describe the narrator's loneliness as he seeks the hurricane feeling of love.

Belgium: Pas de Deux - Rendez-vous Now this is some '80s synthpop indulgence I can get into! Even if the song is extremely monotonous. It repeats the same two phrases, while the instrumental is very constant. The drum slaps and knocks drive things, but the brass and flute moments break the monotony at least. And the duo wildly swinging their arms is hilarious. I also like when they pull one another at start and when they walk across the stage crouched over. They pull out some flutes at one point too.

Luxembourg: Corinne Hermès - Si la vie est cadeau (winner review below)

The Winner:

Despite 1983 having all these creative songs, the winner ends up being a French ballad that could've won in the '70s. Almost as if there was a push back after Bucks Fizz. Which means Luxembourg achieves their 5th (and final) win, tying France's record at the time. Not an overwhelming victory, but they held a comfortable lead through the vote reveal. The juries were all over the place though. The previous 4 winners were considerable hits across Europe, but “Si la vie est cadeau” only peaked high in the Francophone countries. I think Yugoslavia actually had the biggest chart hit from this year (and Sweden in the Nordic countries).

Corinne sings the hell out of this. She out-intensifies Anne-Marie David from 1973. Yes it's a passionate performance, but it's so overdone and relentless. The song is basically 70% intense screaming. It starts subtle though. The first verse grows as the piano enters; followed by the drums, and finally the screaming. I like when her voice softens during the song title and the last chorus line. The song is such a gut punch too.

The lyrics are about how Corinne's ex made an unnecessary promise to have a baby together, and then he didn't follow through on it. Now Corinne is devastated. He's gone and happiness was too short. She surmises that life (and love) are a gift that's given, returned or stolen.

When I first heard this song, I thought it was a very powerful ballad, but now the drama and the intensity are too much. It's my least favourite '80s winner. And it's probably Luxembourg's least relevant winner as well.

Verdict: "D" tier.

My points go to.... 01. Israel: Ofra Haza - Hi 02. Finland: Ami Aspelund - Fantasiaa 03. Yugoslavia: Daniel - Džuli 04. France: Guy Bonnet - Vivre 05. Sweden: Carola Häggkvist - Främling 06. Germany: Hoffmann & Hoffmann - Rücksicht 07. Portugal: Armando Gama - Esta balada que te dou 08. Italy: Riccardo Fogli - Per Lucia 09. United Kingdom: Sweet Dreams - I'm Never Giving Up 10. Belgium: Pas de Deux - Rendez-vous

11. Cyprus: Stavros & Constantina - I agapi akoma zi 12. Netherlands: Bernadette - Sing Me a Song 13. Luxembourg: Corinne Hermès - Si la vie est cadeau 14. Norway: Jahn Teigen - Do Re Mi 15. Denmark: Gry Johansen - Kloden drejer 16. Switzerland: Mariella Farré - Io così non ci sto 17. Spain: Remedios Amaya - ¿Quién maneja mi barca? 18. Austria: Westend - Hurricane 19. Greece: Christie Stasinopoulou - Mou les 20. Turkey: Çetin Alp & the Short Waves - Opera

#eurovision #eurovision song contest #eurovision review #eurovision 1983

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mimilind · 1 year ago

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Stranger of the Falls - Part 5

Pairing: Boromir x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2200

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

※※※

5. Boromir

The sun did not rise the next morning. Or perhaps it did, but you could not see it through the darkness emanating from the enemy’s realm.

News traveled even more slowly now with the villages so empty of people, but when another day dawned equally dark and sullen as the previous, words reached you that Gondor had lit the famous beacons in the south and sent the Red Arrow urging Rohan to ride to their aid.

You also learned a huge orc army had taken control over the fort at Cair Andros. They were swarming all over both sides of the river and in the cover of the unnatural darkness they plundered storages and burned villages at will.

When Främling heard about it his face became ashen.

“Cair Andros is in Anórien, a Gondor fief,” you said, feigning calmness you did not feel. “Gondor is our mighty ally in the south. They have protected us against Mordor for so long, and I am certain they will succeed this time also, especially with our riders on the way to help. The steward of Gondor is a brilliant statesman they say, and his sons mighty warlords. Together they will settle this. Fear not.”

At his dismayed face you became silent. He was looking at you almost with the same despair as when he first woke up after the accident. “Your king must pass through there,” he droned tonelessly. “In his way to aid Gondor, Théoden has to pass near Cair Andros, but with orcs throughout the lands he will be delayed. Then Gondor stands alone. All hope is lost.”

From the way he spoke you suddenly understood. His dark hair, his wealth. “You come from there. From Gondor.”

He did not meet your eyes.

“Who are you?” you asked again. “Please tell me. I need to know your name in case…” Your voice trailed off and you felt a tear trickle down your cheek.

He softly wiped it away. “I am Boromir, son of Denethor of Gondor.”

“Boromir,” you whispered. The mighty warlord. Here in your village, unable to use his right hand properly. No wonder he had lost hope.

When more tears filled your eyes he drew you to him in a hug. “Forgive me. I should have been there, defending the fort, keeping the enemy at bay. Had I not… But even then, I am not certain we could have– There is this weapon you see. The one I dreamt of. It exists, and if the enemy acquires it then…” His voice trailed off and he drew several breaths. “I am rambling. Do not listen to me. You are right; the war may never reach this remote place, and if it does I will protect you with my life.” He kissed your head. “Do not weep. Nothing will happen.”

But you heard in his voice that he did not even believe that himself.

※

He went out again and soon you saw him in the paddock, brushing the horse, talking in a soothing, soft voice. Svarten did not try to tramp or kick him; he actually seemed to enjoy it.

Vidar sauntered by, his new golden belt gleaming around his waist. You glared at it.

“I am impressed,” said he, indicating Boromir. “Never have I seen a man manage Svarten so well. Lord Främling is an extraordinary horseman.”

“And you owe him,” you retorted. “Do not pretend you were unaware of the value of that belt, yet what you gave him in return was hardly worth a thing. Nobody in their right mind would pay even a penny for Svarten! You should return the belt and lend the horse to him for free.”

Vidar protectively covered the belt with his hands. “Well, enough chit-chat; I have a palisade to guard. Later!” He hurried off.

Annoyed, you turned your attention back to Boromir. He had mounted Svarten and was riding round and round, swinging the sword in his left hand. It did not show that he had been nearly paralyzed not long ago; he sat steady like a rock in the saddle, quite a feat for someone with only one good leg.

It struck you that he no longer needed to stay in your house. You had done what you could for him and he would manage the rest himself with all this exercise.

A bit guiltily, you hoped he wouldn’t realize that himself; you did not want him to move out. You could not stand the thought of being alone at night when everything was so frightening in the world.

Besides, where else could he go? He did not know anyone in the village and it was too dangerous to travel. He was stuck with you.

You thought about the hug and kiss he gave you earlier and wondered what they meant. A gesture of friendship? Or more?

Suddenly you wanted it to be more. Under this strange, frightening darkness, in the midst of war and worry, you wished for a glimmer of happiness. A few stolen moments of tenderness and love to carry you on.

But as you thought about it, trying to picture Boromir and you as a couple, you realized you could not. There was a certain bitterness in him, troubled thoughts or memories that filled him with guilt and hopelessness. You suspected that even if he did feel something more for you he wouldn’t allow himself to succumb to it.

If only you had met in other circumstances! In peaceful times, perhaps in your youth, then it could perhaps have come to be.

You felt robbed of his love even though you never had it.

Then you squared your shoulders. As always, there was work to do. You wiped your moist eyes dry and left on your daily round to check on the sick and elderly.

※

At noon, Boromir and you shared a stew with hard bread and mashed potatoes. Somehow this time it felt different to sit opposite to him in your simple house. He looked larger, stronger, more dangerous – like the captain and warlord you now knew he was. He made you feel small.

It was as if he had become even more a stranger after you learned his identity. Now your romantic thoughts from earlier seemed laughably absurd. Lord Boromir was a nobleman; he would never have fallen for a simple Rohirrim healer even if his heart wasn’t so troubled.

Then a couple of red stains on his tunic caught your attention and you temporarily forgot being uncomfortable as your healer’s instincts kicked in. “Your wounds have reopened.”

He glanced down and shrugged. “Not much.”

“Let me examine them.”

He looked amused at your worry but did not protest. He removed his surcote, tunic and shirt and lay down on your bed.

Two of the arrow wounds had a crust of blood but they looked much better than you had feared. Somewhat calmed, you cleaned them and smeared on more ointment. The bleeding had already stopped so you left them unbandaged.

When you had finished, you grew uncomfortable again. You were reminded that this man who lay half-clad in your bed was Lord Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor.

It felt like you saw him for the first time. The stewards were said to have Númenorian blood – they were heroes of old, part human, part elvish – and hence would grow older, taller and stronger than most men.

Looking at him now, you did not doubt the truth of that. How could you not have realized he was of such noble descent? Boromir’s features were aristocratic, from his straight nose and chiseled jawline to his bright, gray eyes, and now without the bandages you saw how perfectly sculpted his torso was. Like a work of art.

Your mouth became dry as you took in the sight.

“Finished yet?” he asked.

Face hot, you tore your gaze away. “I am. But you should not work so hard when you are still healing, my lord,” you scolded, hoping he did not notice how flustered you had become.

He only laughed at that, again striking you with how rich and warm his laugh was.

“War is upon us and you fuss over a few scratches? You need to change your priorities. Also – simply Boromir will do; I am not your lord.”

You could not help smiling back.

“When the men return and I have ascertained the village is secure, then I shall rest,” he promised.

As he put his clothes back on, his forehead furrowed. “I only wish there were more warriors left… And that your houses and palisade were of stone, not wood that can be burned. Orcs are too fond of torching things.” When he saw your expression he hurriedly added: ”But the war will not likely reach this remote village.”

”You believe it will,” you accused.

”Do not trouble yourself about that. I will think of something.”

“I can help.”

“Well then.” He suddenly smiled. “Let us think together.”

He sat on your bed, leaning his back against the wall, and you sat next to him.

Silence ensued.

You tried to think of all the clever ways to protect places you had heard or read about. Boromir was right; stone walls seemed to be the most common part of the defense – with archers on top of them – and channels with narrow bridges leading up to the gates. This, you had heard, was what the Hornburg in Helm’s Deep looked like.

You had no such walls here, and no archers either, but maybe… “What about a moat?” you suggested. “We could channel the river here and lead it around the village. Can orcs swim?”

“Fairly well; it would need to be deep for it to work. And we are too few to dig one. If I had the strength of both my arms…” He frowned, glaring at his right hand as if it had betrayed him.

“Could we frighten them off somehow?” you asked, trying to take his thoughts off his incapability. “What do they fear? Apart from sunlight…”

“Not much.”

He fell silent again, scratching his beard while he thought. A while later he suddenly looked up. “I think I may have an idea… Do you have anything that will burn for a prolonged time?”

“Firewood?”

“No, it has to last longer. Lamp oil could work, or distilled wine.”

“We have tar, plenty of it. We use it for waterproofing.”

He brightened. “Excellent! Show me.”

You asked Vidar to unlock the village storage, and on the way there Boromir explained what he wanted to do.

“An interesting idea,” said Vidar. “Dangerous, but might actually work! Here we are now.”

He opened a barrel of the black, oily liquid. There were many more. Tar was common in this area so you traded it to other villages, and some was sent down the river to be used for shipbuilding in Pelargir.

“Splendid! And you have such an abundance, too. I need most of these barrels, I think. Can I trade you something else for them?”

“Hm.” Vidar gave Boromir’s boots a calculating look.

“Do not be ridiculous.” You gave Vidar a shove. “If he will use it to save the village he shall have it free of charge.” You explained to Boromir that nobody owned the land where the tar pits were located so the resource belonged to everyone.

The two men carried out several barrels, despite your warning to Boromir not to strain himself and overdo it, and then he asked you to help him gather the people.

Soon the villagers curiously flocked around him. Apart from the bedridden elderly everyone had come, even Sigrid, one hand on her back and the other held protectively over her swelling stomach.

Boromir talked to them with the natural authority of one used to command. He told them that though it was not likely the war would come here, he had a plan that would protect the village just in case it did.

The people listened, none of them questioning his right to lead them despite not knowing who he really was. Why would they? They recognized a capable warrior and captain when they saw one.

He divided chores. Some were to dig, others to roll barrels to strategic locations, others to sharpen stakes.

In no time the place was a flurry of activity.

Boromir and you worked with the stakes, sharpening them into lances and handing them over to Vidar and two other old men who pressed them into the soft loam outside the palisade with the sharp ends pointing outward.

Further out, Maja, her shepherdess friends, little Kalle, and many others were digging a low trench while trying to evade the enthusiastic nips of Ludde who thought they were playing a fun game. When they were done they would pour tar and cover it with boards and branches.

It took a couple of days until the preparations were finished to Boromir’s liking. Then he gathered everyone again. “Well done! After your hard toil we shall now finally be able to sleep soundly and without fear. One day, enemy armies might come this way to burn and plunder – but not this village!”

As he raised his fist everyone cheered.

※※※

A/N:

Just in case anyone wondered; tar is another word for pitch or bitumen, a more sticky form of crude oil. It has been used for waterproofing and for fuel in lamps and torches since ancient times. It’s of course highly flammable.

※※※

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Full story: [ AO3 ]

#boromir #boromir x reader #boromir fanfiction #boromir x oc #boromir x you #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings #hurt/comfort #healing #heroism #boromir lives au #reader insert #Stranger of the Falls

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