In the months before this year's contest, our recent favourites, Ukraine, were having a bit of argy with Mother Russia (see Politics, below). From a Woganite perspective this might've promised more voting excitement than it in fact delivered (see Voting). In the end the Ukraine finished one place ahead of Russia, which probably counts as some sort of diplomatic bloody nose for the latter (though frankly far from Jemini standards). The audience's continuing disdain for territorial incursions was more obviously demonstrated by the booing the Russian entry received (on a musical level, far from deserved).  Perhaps as a consequence of some Cold War zeitgeist, 2014's dominant musical trend was the Bond Theme: dramatic ballads were very much the order of the day, with Russia (natch), Austria and San Marino each offering something that would go well with silhouetted naked women sprawling about on guns.

We'll start with the debutantes: this was San Marino's first final, and Valentina Monetta's third attempt as their entry. Upon a canvas half-shell she pondered Maybes in the style of Luxembourg-past. As debuts go, it was a decent one. Meanwhile, undoubtedly inspired by Jedward, Russia gave us a pair of twins. The Tolmachevy Sisters began their performance back to back at the centre of a balanced see-saw, pony-tails twined together, clutching a pair of perspex dowels. This is clearly the set-up for a fantastic Physics lesson simultaneously demonstrating mechanics and static. After shaking out their locks, the sisters head to the ends of the see-saw and demonstrate the simple wonders of playground apparatus (something also delivered by Greece's trampoline and Ukraine's hamster wheel: the toys were out in force this year). Frankly they don't make nearly enough of it, but it's great while it lasts. Beyond the gimmicks, the song is solid and well-built with a Bond-lite sweeping instrumental to the final chorus. It was our favourite song of the night.

Such is the nature of democracy that now and again we have a disagreement on our jury that sees one member give a song 12pts and another member give it 0pts. It doesn't happen often and usually it turns out that one or other of us were just drunk beyond sense on the night, and that we come to see the error of our ways. The first incident was in 1972 (the Spanish entry, somehow), and it happened again in 1980 (to Luxembourg's annoying/endearing "Papa Pingouin"). In 1982 it was Austria's turn to miss out on the top spot (the adorable/ridiculous "Sontag" by the equally adorable/ridiculous Mess), and in 2012 it was Albania's dramatic/weird "Suus". This year saw the fifth such jury split, and the same sort of thing seems to have happened with the UK jury/phone-vote (more of which here) so we're not the only ones. The subject of our disagreement also happened to be the European winner, so there's some happy ending for it. "Rise Like a Phoenix" (the lyrics can be easily modified if you ever find yourself on a coach to a rugby match) was bearded drag persona Conchita Wurst's third stab at being the Austrian entry, and there can be no question that it went "big in the hall": perhaps a little too big to the point of intrusion (the whole of Denmark singing along in the chorus). Here was the most Bondish number of the lot: a dramatic stab; a quiet, simple verse; a rolling bridge with an appropriately rising scale to the soaring chorus; a tweaked bridge on the repeat that's saturated with Bassey; and lots of flame effects to hammer home the imagery. The themes of the song (transformation; triumph over adversity) put this alongside "I Belong" and "Let's Get Happy" at the front of the Eurovision Gay Anthem Songbook.

It wasn't just melodrama and playground plunder taking place on the Danish stage (which takes its inspiration from The Cube, if The Cube were made from Energon). If Austria's entry was going for the Queer Vote, Poland were chasing the Pervy Old Man. Choreographed by Benny Hill, their number was pure smut: all saucy milk-maids and suggestive ponching to a fun but rather thin-sounding Pussycat Dolls skank. The ethnic sleaze penetrates the lyrics too ("This special thing we have in our genes / Makes us proud of our natural shapes"). Ukraine (what's left of it) gave a satisfying sub-Svetlana clockwork dance-pop romp around a hamster wheel that rather lacked in dynamism (owing to the far-too-skittish camerawork; contrast with the elegant simplicity of Austria); the tune owed more than a little to Greek glories past. Meanwhile, Italy played their bye in style: Emma (not the UK entry from 1990, though this year's UK entry was on similar ground to her) dressed like John Hurt's Caligula and doing her best Garbage impersonation. It was one of the pacier and livelier tunes of the night.