Honestly, nobody expected Will Ferrell to become the unofficial face of European pop culture. But here we are. When Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga dropped on Netflix in the middle of a global pandemic, the real-life contest had just been canceled for the first time in history. People were devastated. Then, Lars Erickssong and Sigrit Ericksdóttir showed up with "Volcano Man" and silver spandex. It was weird. It was loud. It was exactly what we needed.
Most American parodies of international things feel mean-spirited. They punch down. But this movie? It’s different. It’s basically a two-hour love letter written by someone who actually stayed up until 3:00 AM watching the voting sequence from a couch in Reykjavik.
The Weird Truth About How the Movie Was Made
Will Ferrell didn't just wake up and decide to make a movie about sparkly outfits. His wife, Viveca Paulin, is Swedish. She’s the one who introduced him to the actual Eurovision Song Contest back in 1999. He became obsessed. He started attending the shows in person, hanging out backstage, and soaking up the sheer, unadulterated chaos of the green room.
The production was surprisingly massive. They didn't just build a set; they filmed at the actual 2019 contest in Tel Aviv. If you look closely at the stage shots, those are real crowds. The crew had to sneak in and out between actual rehearsals for the real contestants. It’s that dedication to the "vibe" that makes the movie work. You can’t fake that level of pyrotechnic insanity.
Why Iceland fell in love with a comedy
You might think Icelanders would be annoyed at Ferrell’s accent. You'd be wrong. Húsavík, the tiny fishing town where the movie is set, basically turned into a shrine for the film. There’s a "Jaja Ding Dong" bar now. Seriously. The song "Húsavík" became an unofficial national anthem.
When the song was nominated for an Oscar, the town went nuts. They even painted the main street red to celebrate. It’s rare for a Hollywood comedy to actually improve the tourism economy of a remote volcanic outpost, but Fire Saga pulled it off.
The Song-Along: A Massive Flex of Real Talent
Let's talk about the Song-Along. You know the scene. It’s the party at Alexander Lemtov’s mansion where everyone starts singing a medley of "Believe," "Ray of Light," and "Waterloo."
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That wasn't just a bunch of actors.
The producers called in actual Eurovision royalty. You’ve got Alexander Rybak (Norway 2009 winner), Loreen (Sweden 2012 and 2023 winner), Conchita Wurst (Austria 2014 winner), and Netta (Israel 2018 winner) all standing in a room together. To a casual viewer, it’s a fun musical number. To a Eurovision fan, it’s the Avengers: Endgame of pop music.
Dan Stevens and the "Lion of Love"
We need to address Dan Stevens. As Alexander Lemtov, the hyper-masculine, incredibly wealthy Russian singer, he nearly stole the entire movie. The tragedy? He didn't actually sing "Lion of Love." The vocals were provided by Erik Mjönes, a Swedish baritone. But Stevens played the part with such commitment—the chest hair, the operatic gestures, the "there is no gay in Russia" subtext—that he became the breakout star.
Rachel McAdams didn't do all her own singing either. Most of Sigrit’s vocals belong to Molly Sandén, a Swedish singer who actually competed in Junior Eurovision. Sandén’s voice has this specific, ethereal quality that makes the final performance of "Húsavík" feel grounded in reality. It’s not a joke song. It’s a genuinely great ballad.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Humor
People call this a spoof. I don't think it is.
A spoof mocks the subject. The Story of Fire Saga mocks the absurdity surrounding the subject while respecting the heart of it. The real Eurovision is already a parody of itself. You have people dressed as monsters (Lordi) and women churning butter suggestively (Poland 2014). How do you parody something that is already at 11?
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You do it by making the characters believe in it 100%. Lars Erickssong isn't a loser because he likes Eurovision; he’s a loser because he’s stuck in the past. The movie treats the contest as a legitimate peak of human achievement. That’s why it resonates.
The Technical Side of Fire Saga
Netflix knew the music had to be top-tier. They hired Savan Kotecha. If you don't know the name, you know his work. He’s written for Ariana Grande, The Weeknd, and Britney Spears.
- "Double Trouble" is a perfect pastiche of mid-2000s Europop.
- "Jaja Ding Dong" captures the aggressive polka-pop energy of "troll" entries.
- "Volcano Man" is basically a tribute to Björk and Sigur Rós.
The mixing was done to sound like a stadium broadcast. If you listen with headphones, you can hear the simulated reverb of a massive arena. It’s those small details that separate this from a standard SNL sketch stretched into a feature film.
Why it didn't win over critics immediately
When it first came out, critics were lukewarm. They complained about the two-hour runtime. They said it was "too long for a comedy."
They missed the point.
The movie is structured like a Eurovision broadcast. Those things go on for four hours! The bloat is part of the aesthetic. It’s supposed to feel like a marathon of sequins and emotional outbursts. Over time, the audience score has far outpaced the critical reception because fans recognized the "inside baseball" nature of the writing.
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Actionable Takeaways for Movie Lovers and Fans
If you're revisiting the film or watching it for the first time, keep these points in mind to get the full experience:
Check out the real Húsavík If you ever travel to Iceland, the town is real and looks exactly like the movie. You can visit the Eurovision exhibition there. It’s a legitimate cultural landmark now.
Watch the "Real" Eurovision To truly appreciate the jokes about the "Graham Norton" style commentary (played by Graham Norton himself in the movie), you have to watch the actual finals. The movie makes 50% more sense once you realize the real show is often weirder than the film.
Listen to the Soundtrack Separately The songs stand up on their own. "Húsavík" actually reached the top 10 on various charts worldwide. It’s a masterclass in how to write "character songs" that don't feel like "comedy songs."
Look for the Cameos Beyond the Song-Along, look for Salvador Sobral (the 2017 winner from Portugal). He’s the guy playing the piano in the park when Lars is wandering around Edinburgh. It’s a quiet, beautiful moment that honors the "music is feeling, not fireworks" philosophy he championed in real life.
The legacy of Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga isn't just the memes. It’s the fact that it took a niche European tradition and explained the "why" of it to the rest of the world. It’s about the "Speylacist" (ghosts) and the dream of a small-town kid wanting to prove his father wrong. It’s silly, it’s bloated, and it’s surprisingly full of heart. Just like Eurovision itself.
To get the most out of the experience, watch the 2021 Eurovision Grand Final immediately after the movie. You will see where the fiction ends and the very strange reality begins.