France
Louane – Maman
France arrives this year draped in melancholy and bathed in sepia, with Louane delivering what is arguably the contest’s rarest creature: an actual song. Maman is a slow-burn, piano-led ballad that smells faintly of autumn leaves, regret, and something warming in a chipped enamel mug. It’s all very French—as French as Gauloises smoked under a bridge in Lyon, or Brie left out just a little too long on a hot day.
It’s emotionally rich, if occasionally a little overwrought—Louane emotes like she’s got a contractual obligation to cry at the two-minute mark—but in a field full of chaotic genre-hopping and half-hearted bangers, this feels like the grown-up in the room. The melody is simple but effective, and while it echoes several past French efforts (some successful, many less so), this time they may have hit the sweet spot between sentimentality and sincerity.
Much will depend on staging—there’s a fine line between evocative minimalism and standing on a dark stage looking lost—but the reveal during the Six Nations final hinted at quiet confidence. Juries will swoon, and if Europe’s had enough of wind machines and pyrotechnic key changes by the time she takes to the stage, the televote might just follow suit.
10 points