From The Beatles to Elton John and Guns N’ Roses, and even artists such as Anouk and the Israeli band Mashina, quite a few musicians have found a “Michelle” worth writing about.
Considering that Bettan himself did not exactly emerge from the reality show The Next Star as a meteor of extraordinary originality, and given the national mood amid, well, a war with Iran, expectations for the song were not exactly soaring. The drawn-out broadcast by public broadcaster Kan — stretched as though people had the time and patience for it with all the air raid sirens — certainly did not help.
But then, at long last, the song was revealed. And what do you know: it’s a pretty great “Michelle.” Tzlil Kalifi, Nadav Aharoni, Yuval Raphael and Bettan have concocted an excellent Eurovision entry — easily among Israel’s best of the past decade (even without help from Keren Peles).
It is simple but not simplistic, tailored like a bespoke suit to the charismatic singer, produced in line with the restless spirit of the times yet carrying the sweet haze of cigarette smoke from a Parisian brasserie in the 1970s. Even the blend of languages — Hebrew, French and English — does not sound like an emergency gathering of AI experts.
Tourists may return to Israel only when the Messiah arrives, but perhaps we will at least see a spike in Google searches for Florentin, the hip Tel Aviv neighborhood namedropped in the song.
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Noam Bettan in the video clip for Michelle
(Screengrab: Kan)
The stylish music video, directed by Ofir Peretz, completes what is a fairly attractive artistic package, and not only by the standards of Israel’s current national chaos.
Of course, that does not mean success in the competition itself is guaranteed — and not just because “everyone is antisemitic.” The main professional challenge is that the nature of the song requires Bettan to deliver a peak vocal performance at the decisive moment of the live show. It might be wise to show him again and again the off-key notes by Harel Skaat in the 2010 Eurovision final, as a reminder of what happens when you try to feel like you’re standing on top of the Eiffel Tower but your voice ends up sounding like a roadside motel.
In that sense, Bettan’s existing stage experience may help him, even if a stage like Eurovision is something he has never experienced before — and may never again.
At the end of the broadcast, presenter Hila Korach proudly described the entry as “a love song that sounds like a country living normal lives.” Of course, shortly afterward, crowds once again had to run to bomb shelters as sirens sounded — the real melody that cannot currently be switched off.
On the other hand, it is possible that the next hit in public shelters will be “Ai-ai-ai-ai / Oh-oh-oh-oh.” That’s something, too.