Movie Review: "Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga" Is Not the Best, Not the Wurst

Eurovision was cancelled in 2020 because of COVID-19. So, sure, let Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams host their own.

Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga is, by process of elimination, the funniest Will Ferrell movie in six years. That, of course, only sounds impressive if you didn’t sit through Get Hard, Zoolander 2, The House, Holmes & Watson and not one but two instalments of Daddy’s Home. Honestly, by this point, it would actually be harder for him to make a worse film, not a better one.

And The Story of Fire Saga still isn’t very good, but it is at least exceedingly good-natured, and has Ferrell at his sweetest and co-star Rachel McAdams at her most goofy and game. They play Lars and Sigrit, an Icelandic musical duo (who may or may not be related) that put aside their romantic feelings for one another in pursuit of professional success. And yet, they only achieve it by accident, scoring an invite to international music tournament Eurovision when every other Icelandic performer is incapacitated. Their hometown of Húsavík is embarrassed that they’ll be represented by the going-nowhere musical combo, Lars' (and maybe Sigrit’s) father Erick (Pierce Brosnan) chief among the ashamed. For reference, this is who Iceland sent to Eurovision in 2019. Guys, I think your musical reputation is safe with Will Ferrell.

Lars and Sigrit's love for the European singing competition is introduced with an opening scene where they witness ABBA leading Sweden to victory in 1974 with "Waterloo". It sets the tone, with director David Dobkin and co-writers Ferrell and Andrew Steele establishing this will be a kind tribute to the contest, and not a pointed parody of it or of membership to the EU. It also establishes that the age of both lead characters is about fifty-something, which makes it harder to buy the fact that Lars and Sigrit are starry-eyed kids who need to grow up. It’s especially bizarre that McAdams, 41 in real-life, has been aged up a full decade to match Ferrell, who is 52. I probably spent the first 30 minutes doing the sums to ensure I hadn’t made a gross miscalculation, and that the picture was indeed bending the laws of logic to justify its plotline. Don’t worry: at a lengthy 123 minutes, you can spend half an hour doing some intensive calculus on the side and not really miss anything, or feel that Eurovision Song Contest has raced too far ahead of you.

It's always nice to see Ferrell playing a pleasant and likeable (if stubbornly childish) doof, which he hasn’t done in nearly a decade. (I don’t count his milquetoast pushover in Daddy’s Home, because a likeable doof would not be friends with Mark Wahlberg or Mel Gibson.) McAdams is also wonderfully all in as the super-talented Sigrit (whose singing voice is provided by Molly Sandén), believable as a sweet naif who longs for the long-haired Lars and still believes in the myth of Icelandic elves. (Despite being, y’know, 50.) At one point, Dobkin basically just lets McAdams recreate her hall-of-fame delivery of the line "oh no, he died" from Game Night. Alas, you can’t always make lightning strike twice.

The main problem with The Story of Fire Saga is that it tries to replicate that which has made Eurovision such a beloved spectacle for millions around the world, and fails, because, as we learned from the 2019 Met Gala, high camp cannot be fabricated, and its definition is unknowable. Instead, Lars and Sigrit offer bouncy pop ballads that sound like they've come off the typical Scandinavian production line, and Dan Stevens, as a dastardly Russian (who admittedly takes a vulnerable turn towards the end), simply sings a variation on "Be Prepared" from The Lion King. Nothing, however, stands out for being stunningly outrageous or especially memorable. The closest this thing gets to its stated goal is a "Song-Along" (which is what they call a "Sing-Along" in this fictional Europe, apparently), where past contestants and winners such as Conchita Wurst and Netta perform a pop medley at a party while staring sincerely directly into the camera. Ferrell and McAdams join in without a hint of irony. It’s both the flick’s absolute best and worst moment. That’s camp. (I think.)

2.5/5