Three, four, five. So Mariette's final history looks. True to her habit, she went straight ahead with mediocre Shout it out. A bubbly number with a very troublesome guitar solo. Difficult because it, along with the happy melody loop, resembled how Jamie Lee Curtis wiggles his forced electric guitar in the 2003 comedy Freaky Friday.
Mohombi also went on, without stomp, without surprises.
Sad to see Fatih Kakembo's foggy Twin Peaks numbers leave the competition, but that's how life is. In Mello, the wacky lunatic (Drängarna and Anis Don Demina went on to the Second Chance) and the well-produced, but oh so predictable, pop.
In this development , Mariette's final placements are symptomatic. An almost profit in 2015 leads to a reversal of annually repeated attempts to repeat the result. Mariette wants to win, nothing wrong with that. But in the compulsive competition, something unpleasant behaviorist hides. She wants to please TV viewers, but it doesn't get any better. Third place 2015, fourth 2017, fifth 2018. She is the marshmallow child or the pavlovan dog who does what we want, except to cut identity politics correctly. Good but sacrificing. So is the Swedish Melodifestivalen. Always top five in the international finals. Rarely surprising or evolving. The bloodthirsty desire to win stifles the genre and the art.
Mariette needs vacation. Find yourself back. And Melodifestivalen needs to learn to release the concepts before they are torn apart by overuse. Risk something.
Tonight's middle act was about everyday life. Was it entertainment? Well. But we have become accustomed. Looking good and coming back next week. Just like Mariette.