About the only lucid thing in the Junior Eurovision Song Festival (TVM, Saturday) was the choice of venue. The event was held at St Agatha’s Secondary College in Rabat, thus indicating that it is not only the MCC and the rest of the usual suspects which can cater to events of this magnitude.

Apart from that, everything pertaining to the event was thoroughly cringe-worthy. We are told 54 songs were submitted for this year’s edition, and that a professional jury had selected the 20 songs performed on the night. I shudder to think what the songs that did not make the cut for the finals night were like.

I find it both amusing and irritating that whereas the names of the members of this jury – Fr Karm Debattista, Joe Gatt, Jacqueline Delicata, Francesca Aquilina, Marouska Muscat and Neville Pace – were made public (with the seventh vote coming from SMSs and televoting), the generic word ‘professional’ still serves as an umbrella term for the shortlisting one.

As it is, we had a mix-and-match Kylie Minogue performance, a re-hash of Phantom of the Opera; a song title in Maltese orthography that nonetheless had English lyrics, and so forth.

I was flabbergasted that at the beginning of the contest, a statement was read that (some of the) singers might not have known about the regulations concerning the number of backing vocals permissible, and that the jury members were therefore to take this into account. The mind boggles. I was under the impression that when you enter a contest, you pore over the rules, no?

Whoever prepared the scripts for Francesca and Daniel probably thought that increasing the ‘hip’ factor would make the teens sound ‘more natural’. It could also be that the pair was told they could ad lib. In any case, a national song contest loses much of its calibre when the hosts use expressions such as ‘tal-ġenn’ and ‘il-laħwina dinja’.

The modish trend was also, alas, visible in Daniel’s clothes, which were more suitable for a lounge lizard than a young man. But this lack of sartorial eloquence was nothing compared to the dresses worn by Francesca, which were definitely too ‘grown up’ for her.

These were a pathetic attempt to gild the lily – Francesca does not need clothes that veer on the edge of ‘costumes’ in order to make her presence felt; she is personable enough to be able to do her thing in sackcloth, if need be. I understand that the sponsor must display what is available to boost sales; but the denim dress looked too baggy and the silver grey get-up had a skirt that looked like an old-time theatre curtain, hung badly.

The clothes worn by the singers – was there a special offer on tutus? – were reminiscent of fundraising talent contest shows. This was perfectly evidenced at the curtain call stage, when the bizarre collection could be seen in all its technicolour glory.

I had never believed for one moment, when the rules stated that the songs were to be penned by the singers themselves, that this was happening in its entirety. The term ‘editing and proofreading’ cover a multitude of sins. But now that adults are permitted to compose the songs, some of the lyrics were so puerile it would be easy to believe they had been written by children of primary school age.

Speaking of children – why is it that when Angie Laus does a children’s version of her programme, hundreds of them turn up, and in this children’s festival, only a handful did? Does it ever occur to PBS to organise a gathering, at the end of which the young audience would be ferried back to Gwardamangia for collection by parents, even if this is done against a nominal fee?

The trophy was hideous beyond words. Most people immediately dubbed it ‘vażun mingħand tal-Lira’ (this is not an unpaid advertisement, for I doubt whether the chain stocks anything as horrendous).

As much as I dislike all things feline, my favourite song was Sarah Bonnici’s Kitty Kitty-Cat; this had a complete package of a cute singer who made no attempt to go beyond the range of her voice, a team wearing suitable clothes, simple lyrics, movement, and a topic suitable for a children’s song. Some songs sadly lacked one or more of these qualities.

First place was won by Nicole Azzopardi, who sang Knock Knock… Boom! Boom! Accompanied by her team – what probably made it win were the Maltese lyrics and the steps from the traditional action-song Bumm Bumm mil-Bieb.

I cannot for the life of me understand why it had lyrics that take us back to a feudal past, when il-barrani is said to have exercised jus primae noctis with Maltese young ladies. It is debatable whether this alleged offence actually took place on a widespread scale – but that is not the point at issue here.

Be that as it may, Azzopardi will be representing Malta in Minsk, Belarus, in the Junior Eurovision Song Contest come November 20. It is too much to expect these happenings to be slotted into school holidays time.

I hope nobody asks about the provenance of the ditty, and the etymology of the lyrics.

• Crass Comment of the Week Award goes to the newscaster to whom National Punctuation Day is a non-event.

Adding fuel to the fire of ­controversy over the latest pyrotechnics-connected tragedy, when mentioning the number of victims, he said (and I quote verbatim) “jekk tista’ tqis tarbija li għadha ma twelditx bħala ħajja”. Granted that in Maltese, ‘ħajja’ may mean both ‘a life’ and ‘alive’, he was both insensitive and uninformed to pass that comment. Albeit certain sources are insisting that the young lady was not pregnant, that has no bearing on what the journalist said.

television@timesofmalta.com