The first year that La 1 broadcasts the Eurovision semi finals marks a turning point in Spain’s approach to the contest. This is a strategic moment, not a verdict on any particular bet or decision made by the new company behind the project. Benidorm Fest has established itself as a lasting feature of the national scene, and after the initial excitement, the moment known as the Chanelazo sparked widespread discussion and debate across audiences and critics alike.
If the semi final viewership feels modest at first, there is reason for optimism. At the very least, the numbers will double compared with what was seen when the event aired on the second channel. Responsibility for the outcome rests with the program, but there are broader cultural factors at play. Spain has a distinctive television rhythm, and Eurovision tends to begin earlier than many viewers expect. The nine o clock start and the late-evening finish place the event inside a prime window that is coveted by advertisers and cherished by fans, yet this timing can also introduce a clash with routines and family viewing habits. As the voting unfolds, the most dramatic moments arrive, and those golden minutes often define the narrative and the perception of the festival as a whole.
It is worth recalling a historical note. In 1984, when José María Calviño led Televisión Española, the semi finals were not part of the broadcast plan and Eurovision was even sent to UHF in some regions. That era lacked the full spectacle familiar to today’s audiences, but it left a memory of a festival that could be read in different ways depending on how and when it was shown. Today, the contest has returned with renewed energy and has become a cultural event that many people anticipate each year, shaping conversations across the country and beyond. The revival is not merely a broadcast decision; it reflects a broader evolution in how national broadcasters curate, present, and celebrate European music and shared moments on television.
With respect to the recent entries from Ukraine and the national Chanel entry, a particular listening experience stands out. The standout track appears to be the Italian entry Brividi, performed by Mahmood and Blanco. The title translates roughly to chills, yet the song carries a wealth of untranslatable nuance that resonates with listeners in many languages. It is a ballad of quiet intensity, and it is difficult not to compare it with the understated emotional power of the Portuguese ballad Amar pelos dois, performed by Salvador Sobral. That song, which won San Remo and later the Eurovision crown, set a high bar for storytelling through melody. The current song many audiences remember from that era remains a touchstone when considering how a modern European ballad can bridge genres, languages, and cultural sensibilities. Such benchmarks illuminate why audiences respond so deeply to music that feels sincere and unforced, rather than merely polished for the stage.
Beyond individual performances, the overall arc of the Eurovision season in Spain showcases how a national festival can coexist with a broader European spectacle. Benidorm Fest has carved out a space within the calendar that makes room for new voices while honoring the tradition of the Eurovision stage. The balance between local passion and international appeal is delicate, and it requires careful curation, authentic storytelling, and a willingness to embrace risk. The result is a narrative that draws in viewers who might not identify as Eurovision fans yet find themselves drawn into the drama of the competition, the suspense of the voting, and the subtle choreography of national pride played out on screen. In this sense, the festival becomes more than a competition; it becomes a cultural reflection of how a nation sees itself in a global musical conversation.
Overall, the evolving presentation of Eurovision in Spain demonstrates a wider trend: audiences crave moments that feel real, honest, and emotionally resonant. When a song like Brividi or Amar pelos dois speaks to universal feelings, it transcends language and borders, inviting listeners to participate in a shared experience. As viewers tune in, they are not simply watching a performance; they are witnessing a tradition in motion, a living dialogue between yesterday, today, and tomorrow for the Spanish audience and for the broader European community that follows the contest with curiosity and affection. The result is a festival that continues to adapt while preserving the core magic that has kept Eurovision relevant and beloved for decades. © Source at Eurovision press and broadcast history, with contemporary adaptation notes from national broadcasters and cultural observers.