DORA 2001 REVIEW

New government, new Dora.  The peroxide-blonde apparatchik Ksenija Urlicic lost her job in charge of the Dora after the nationalist party, to whom she belonged, lost the elections last year.  It's a shame Tony Blair can't promise an improved national final in his election manifesto.  

The new team said they would improve the Dora by banning new performers, after the singular lack of talent displayed by too many of the singers last year (Anita Horvatic, anyone?  Anyone?  Thought not).  They didn't quite get the effect they wanted: instead of the stars of tomorrow, we had a mix of a few famous names, some has-beens who came last in the Dora a few years ago and several singers who needed a pension book more than they ever did a microphone.

Let's hope we can put this one down to teething problems.

Still, they started the Dora with the traditional Completely Incomprehensible Ten-Minute Dance Routine.  This time, we have people dressed as Roman soldiers juggling with torches to the sound of drumbeats.  Damn: I'd been keeping an eye on the Dora this year - how did I fail to notice that Roger Pontare was going to be the opening act?

When our hosts enter, we see why the C.I.T.M.D.R. was taking so long: Bojana Gregoric must have had to be sewn into that 'Lisa del Bo in red' dress.

Petar Grašo - Croatia's answer to George Michael, especially with that ill-advised goatee - is on first and convincingly demonstrates what would happen if Carlos Santana and his band started jamming along to a Goran Karan snoozefest.  Eurovision has been in need of a bit of the Latino estilo for some time, but we've ended up with quite enough of it for Copenhagen already, and even Grašo would run the risk of getting lost. 

From the sublime, unfortunately, to the ridiculous.  The last time Branimir Mihaljevic was in the Dora, he faffed about with a violin, but he has out-kitsched himself more than could be thought possible with Milenij ljubavi.  Ljubavi means 'love', and Milenij, I'm afraid, means just what it looks like.  Eamonn Toal would be proud, but I am emphatically not - in fact, the sentimentality of the lyrics almost makes me wish I couldn't understand Croatian.  Then he sings, in English, 'Let the music be the only language of around the world', and I realise it wouldn't have helped anyway.  Tell me, Branimir, what is a Millennioom?

By the time the backing singers, who have come straight from a Benetton advert, have conjured up the spectre of 'Happy people, happy children, singing like the birds above', I am more than ready for Tereza Kesovija, although it looks as if what we have got is Nicki French - although a Nicki who has sensibly decided to steer clear of a) disco and b) lilac.  I want to like this, especially since it had apparently been written for Maja Blagdan, but no such luck.  It takes an interview with Tereza after the song's finished for us to find out why love is Zlatni kljuc sudbine - 'the golden key to destiny' - in the first place.  Somebody please tell her that she isn't in an opera house...

Vesna Pisarovic could not have done Britney Spears better if she was appearing on Soundmix, but Za tebe stvorena is so catchy that it makes up for that.  The orchestra seemed to be getting rather lost by the end of the song - distracted, perhaps, by her tiny see-through top?  Memo to HRT: if you wanted Alsou in the Dora, I'm sure she would have obliged...

Encouragingly, Vesna's is the only song I can still remember half a day later.  Or rather it would be, if not for Pjesmo moja.  That's because, with Pjesmo moja, all you have to do is start humming the theme from Titanic, and you're there.  To drive home the resemblance even further, they've added waves to the soundtrack.  Halfway through, Mirjana Pospiš's dancers come up behind her and do Linda Wagenmakers with bits of what looks like her wedding dress.  She's got a lot of 'My heart will go on' in there, and even a bit of 'No goodbyes', but unfortunately, she just hasn't got 'The voice'.

Every Dora seems to have a song that comes last after being ruined by two dancers.  This year it's Bruno Krajcar's Balun, except it could hardly be ruined any further.  It's a folk tune from Istria that is probably intended to sound like the whole village getting together for a sing-song.  I'd have kept it in the village, myself.

"Perle" had the misfortune of being drawn just before "Putokazi", the other girls' choir in this year's Dora.  There are 6 Perle, but their combined age still might not match Tereza's.  Pokraj bistra istvora isn't at all bad, but the stage gets a bit crowded with them all on there - the song really needs a soloist, but preferably not this Lead Blondie, who can only be being Lead Blondie for her voice.  To be fair, they're all young and their nerves were showing, but the Dora is hardly the place for the Youth Theatre Annual Show.

"Putokazi" are much more experienced, and it shows.  There's one of the longest postcards ever before they come on, and when they finally do, you can see why.  They had to get a wardrobe on stage first.  They come out of the wardrobe, dance around a bit, and later on they get some baskets of flowers out of the wardrobe too.  In the post-performance interview, the Lead Blondie (do all these groups have a Lead Blondie?) offers the hosts something from her basket of what turns out to be apples.  Red apples.  Haven't the hosts ever read Snow White?

The song's called Vilino kolo, 'The fairy dance', but thankfully they've resisted the temptation to wear fairy wings.  Instead, they're singing in fairy language, but at least they don't look so awful.  When it's over, they shut the wardrobe door, and Teletubbies Say Bye-Bye.  Having been to Planet New Earth and now Fairyland with these girls, I'd like to see them sing something on this world for a change.

Rarely is one left with nothing to say, good or bad, about a Dora song, but "Novi fosili" manage it with Takva ljubav.  I may like it after I've heard it a few times, but it's nothing special - were there really no better songs submitted this year?  Although, it's quite appropriate to have a band called New Fossils in the Dora when we've got so many Old ones too.  Were they trying to tell us something?

Vanna and Strune ljubavi were the supposed favourites even before a note had been sung, and despite the subsequent hype, I'd still like to know why.  After a slow beginning, a disco beat comes in and it starts to sound like the theme to any 70s American soap you can think of, until the moment you've finally got into it when there's a violin solo instead.  Then back to the soap theme.  Which last might stand a chance, but all four put together are going to be pushing it.  She's brave to be singing at all at 9 months pregnant, though, let alone to be wearing something made out of a bin-bag.

Josip Katalenic is the nearest thing Croatia has to a boyband, but don't, don't imagine five of him.  The previous week he'd said that nobody would mind his songs if Whitney Houston or Céline Dion were singing them, but both those women have... shall we say... a few things he doesn't.  He's wearing a leather jacket and trousers, either of which would be a mistake on him, but together are just too much (if he'd ever read Vogue he'd know never to mix more than one piece of leather at once).  He's also growing his hair, which has gone all Martina Navratilova.  There are women who would get very excited about little Josip, even if - or rather, as long as - they didn't know he was a man.

Vladimir Kocis Zec is another one to shut your eyes for, when it's actually rather good (at least, it doesn't put you instantly to sleep).  Vladimir, however, has come straight on stage for an hour out jogging.  Still, guys his age need to start taking care of their heart.

Between Zec and Zdenka Kovacicek, the average age of this year's Dora singers has just tripled.  Ja zivim svoj san is more uptempo a ballad than expected - although, still not much good - but there can't be any hairspray left backstage after what they've done to her.

Maja Šuput is really "enJoy", who get trashier every year.  This reminds me of Yugoslavia 1982, and not just because it's called Hello.  Maja, however, is acting more like a cheap Tajci, if not a cheap ta...  no, I won't say it.  I get the feeling we may have been rather lucky this didn't win.

Thank heaven Dado Topic has cut his hair - he looked like a wizard in his postcard, or Alice Cooper before he puts his slap on.  Što znaci zbogom means 'What goodbye means' - as in, one assumes, 'Goodbye, you are the weakest link.'  Is this the worst song in the Dora?  The most mediocre, maybe, but could anything be worse than Branimir?

Branka Delic, in a little black dress that has gone through a shredder - sings Moja je ljubav umorna - Latino again.  That'll be because nnobody's sung more off-key since "XXL", from whom she looks as if she could have graduated.  If she was a debutant, you'd understand a performance like that, but Branka was in the very first Dora.  Maybe she'd rather people forgot about this.  I know I wouldn't mind.

One member of "Plava trava zaborava" is wearing a stetson hat, which doesn't look promising.  Except, they're a country band and normally they all wear them, so we've been spared.  Instead of full-on country, this is a very ordinary song about the morning, half in English.  Not actively bad, but monotonous.  Next please.

Ksenija Subotincic was my favourite four years ago, and with Igra she's done it again - all the more impressive given that in the period in between she hasn't really sung much else.  Even though The Curse Of Lilac has struck again, the song is over-dramatic, hideously complicated and generally sounds like Andrew-Lloyd-Webber-goes-Croatian-by-way-of-Greece.  Of course, I love it.  Had it even come close to winning, I'd also have screamed in horror.

Toni Cetinski sings Iz dana u dan (protekla bila) - 'Be cursed from day to day'.  A song for Urlicic?  It's always good to know Cetinski's about to come up - you can go out to the kitchen or take a loo break without having to worry you might actually miss anything.  This, actually, isn't bad for Cetinski, but emphasis on the 'for Cetinski'.  I start to become rather glad it's nearly over.

Emilija Kocic and Juci are last on stage singing Ljepota, and that's the only thing that can account for them coming second.  With the longest eyelashes since Bambi, Emilija is at least an accomplished performer, which couldn't have been said of everyone on stage before her.  Still, you expect her boyfriend to come over any minute and say 'Is this guy hassling you?'

While not entirely convinced by Vanna, there's at least one consolation: since Emilija and Juci won the televote, and the internet vote gave its twelve to Katalenic (!), it could all have been worse.  Ksenija can at least sing, but I don't even want to imagine how I would start to make excuses for Mihaljevic.....