The Entertainment Beast
There is something about Melodifestivalen, Sweden’s selection show for Eurovision, that separates it out from every other National Final out there. I don’t mean the hit songs that dominate the local charts. Look at Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu which flourishes now year after year. I don’t mean the way that each song is staged and given a different look and feel, which is something that Benidorm Fest has truly developed since its rebirth. I don’t even mean how this show has become such an institution of its culture, as shows like Eesti Laul and Söngvakeppnin have managed to build up throughout this century.
I only realized what was truly different and unique about modern Melodifestivalen when I was thrown back in the Melodifestivalen merry-go-round after my trip to Moldova. After watching selection shows from Luxembourg, Croatia, and Greece, I noticed those shows had competent, intelligent hosts of utmost professionality who ran proceedings. They did everything correct and were utterly charming, but I don’t remember anything notable one said or did.
Those shows, classic straight up Eurovision National Finals rather than evolved separate beasts, had two separate gears. One gear was entertainment, and that was provided by the musical acts on stage. The hosts brought the show into a different tempo, informing and leading but not necessarily keeping entertainment in full focus.
That’s so different here in Sweden. Melodifestivalen’s heats are only 90 minutes long, but each second of that is entertainment output. In Moldova I was running out of the arena after every four songs for a visit to the bar or toilet. At Melfest, the only time I see people scurrying around to take a break from the show is while being dragged by a child who has drank too much sponsor-provided Coca Cola. At home, nobody leaves the sofa for the entire thing, with a table of lördagsgodis and sweet treats galore only an outstretched hand away to keep you sugar rushed to the very end.
Coca-Cola are one of the many sponsors of the Melodifestivalen tour (Photo: Ben Robertson, ESC Insight)
When the Show is the Story
I’ve finally understood the essence of Melodifestivalen being more than just a National Final. Other competitions are filmed concerts. Instead, this is a variety show where the songs are centerpieces but the pace and entertainment never skips a beat.
Heat 3 of Melodifestivalen 2026 is unlikely to go down as a series highlight in years gone by. That’s not because of the songs. While both qualifying acts Medina and Saga Ludvigsson are seen as unlikely acts to win Melodifestivalen this year, the source of criticism of the show was not pointed at them. Criticism was pointed at the show itself.
With a show as big as Melodifestivalen, many of the biggest names in entertainment journalism comment on the happenings each week. Few are saying negative things about the contestants, especially with the warmth and joy about seeing Nanne Grönväll’s electric performance following a recent operation. However, Matilda Källén from Dagens Nyheter said the script felt a bit to wish upon. SVT’s reporter Daniel Wyser commented that the jokes fell flat, meanwhile Jan Andersson from Göteborgs Posten commented that the hosts have started to slip up.
I contrast Melodifestivalen to the other National Finals around the continent. In Estonia, all the conversations were about the results as the who’s–who debated the wafer thin margin that saw Vanilla Ninja win. When Dora decides to wheel up an interval act, they bring Danijela Martinović to the stage to perform a medley including her 1998 entry. When Sweden brings Charlotte Perrelli to Melodifestivalen, we don’t get the classics. They create a whole new number, ‘Mello Baddie‘, in a musical style completely at odds with what the Eurovision 1999 winner is known for, creating a song that got comment threads talking in a way nostalgia alone would just be wallpaper.
The Standard of Excellence
Each second of Melodifestivalen’s 90 minute run has to be entertainment. It’s not a concert or a nostalgia trip, it’s the most important cultural showcase that the country has each winter. Each joke that doesn’t land, each technical mishap, or each camera cue missed is a reason for critique. I can’t share the exact thoughts of Tobbe Ek on the Schlagerkoll podcast, discussing how he felt it was is “sad” that the production team seems “satisfied” with the show, in referring to their return to their hotel as early as midnight after Friday’s rehearsal. But that sentiment from one of the most experienced journalists is poignant to the importance of the content and the higher than high expectations that come from Sweden’s biggest TV production.
Gina Dirawi, hosting Melodifestivalen this year for her fourth time, spoke to ESC Insight at the first heat of Melodifestivalen in Linköping. Already by that point had lots of ideas been mapped out for this season’s script, and was proud of the “surprises every episode” and how the team have actively planned to “reach out to a lot of different generations” in their content.
“I’ve hosted most of the biggest shows in Sweden throughout my career, and I keep coming back to Melodifestivalen because it is the most fun TV show to do. Like, there’s no other show in Sweden where you can, you know, just do whatever you want. Like, there’s no limitations almost to what you can do. And also that you can show so many sides of yourself as a TV host or as an artist.”
This pushing-to-the-limit desire and expectation is a part of what makes Melodifestivalen the spectacle it is. And the limit also comes in pushing viewers expectations and boundaries. Some of those sides of the personas that Gina commands during the six-week run, or the characters that her co-host Hampus comes up with, will be adored by people. Some will be despised.
Christer Björkman, the Melodifestivalen 1992 winner who worked on this show’s production for the best part of two decades, explained in 2013 how he wants to create a show that “moves people” and must “awaken feelings.” This is supported by today’s Project Manager for Melodifestivalen, Anders Wistbacka, who said this to the OGAE Sweden podcast Nu Kör Vi.
“As long as you feel something, but as long as you find a favourite, something you really like and a good song that you want to win, then it is also absolutely fine that we have some songs you think are bad.”
The Cultural Contract
Not all those feelings throughout the show should be saying everything is fantastic, there should be songs each week you love, and songs each week you don’t. There should be interval acts that speak to you, and interval acts that speak to others. Few moments in music and culture speak to everyone. While Melodifestivalen, especially with its voting system, hopes that after six weeks we have a conclusive winner that all generations agree on, the journey shouldn’t coalesce into this full agreement, because that would not be entertaining.
And Melodifestivalen has so many ways to feel what people are feeling. While there’s a plethora of journalists with opinions making their voice heard, Anders Wistbacka made it clear speaking to OGAE Sweden that it isn’t journalist criticism that moves the show, but the people’s. Stronger than the words of a chosen few at the hundreds that end up in social media comments threads, the thousands who engage when SVT uses the app to send a survey to viewers watching at home, or the absurd voting numbers each week that has seen only one song of the first 18 competing entries score less than a million votes.
We saw this in reality while in Linköping as Melodifestivalen launched. While the press were unanimous with their critique about the ten minute channel switchover to streaming for the final qualifier place, it was when viewer feedback came 24 hours later that wheels were set in motion to change the structure for the future weeks back to the action-packed 90 minute broadcast. But the viewer feedback wave did come, and it was heard. I don’t know if viewers of other National Finals would ever feel so emotionally connected to their broadcast, and be able to influence the production decisions of the show, in such an immediate way.
The furore after the first heat wasn’t about the songs, the results, or the jokes, but about a decision made by the executives at SVT. That shows to me how much this competition matters to the people. When the broadcast didn’t end in the traditional celebration with the two qualifiers, bouquets in hand, sharing the stage for the photo that will plaster the front pages on Sunday morning, it felt amiss.
Other National Finals host their competitions like business, an on the whole formulaic experience to find the song for Eurovision. Melodifestivalen has its own formulas, but here the entertainment pace is priority and is faster than any other out there. The show is an intense investment of a cultural cacophony.
More than any song, the one thing viewers will complain about is when their entertainment emotions of love, hate, despair and celebration, have been lost.