What did the creators – Vít Klusák and Filip Remunda – of the documentary Czech Dream propose as an alternative to capitalist consumerism isn’t explicitly spelled out. There is no nostalgia for the Czech communist past. In fact the dominance of the commercial ecosystem that filled the Czechoslovakian social and economic niche after the fall of communism and the integration into the European and world markets makes such a return seem an impossibility. But when they interview one of the dedicated shoppers of the “hypermarkets” – what the Czechs call Wal-Mart-like big box stores – about her real desires, it is her dreams for literary and artistic pursuits such as writing, painting and singing, that maybe point towards another way.
In Czech Dream the filmmakers follow the creation of an ersatz hypermarket and the marketing campaign for the opening day of a store that is actually just a facade and scaffolding in the middle of a meadow. The motivation for such a prank/hoax is never really spelled out, although like most good hoax/pranks they tend to take on a life of their own, and like most successful hoax/pranks hilarity is provoked as well as wincing sympathy alternating with head shaking derision for those stupid enough to be easily duped, and enlightened moments for some who had their realities turned upside down, anger and violence from those who felt it was cruel to have their worlds turned the same.
It’s instructive – yet typical – that the consumers that came out for the opening and the usual politicians and media types direct their anger towards the filmmakers yet little against those who structure and guide them through the pens and gates of intelligence insulting ads and third world slave produced junk towards finding enlightenment in a jar of gherkins, heaven in bottled water.
Judged on a level of a prank though, there is much here to admire. Clues are seeded throughout the marketing campaign hinting of the illusionary nature of the hypermarket, such as the bubble-based logo, the ludicrous and hilarious ad jingle and the faux-ironic slogans – “don’t come” and “don’t spend” – which would have tipped off the shrewd beforehand and (hopefully) deliver a Zen whacking stick to those not so much after the prank was exposed.
And at the very least it made people get outside of the damn hypermarkets and shopping centers on a beautiful day and stimulated them to talk, debate and interact, a healthy irruption of more genuine being and sociality, a small price to pay for those who got their pride and egos hurt a bit.
Czech Dream
Czech Dream
Jason Lubyk
What did the creators – Vít Klusák and Filip Remunda – of the documentary Czech Dream propose as an alternative to capitalist consumerism isn’t explicitly spelled out. There is no nostalgia for the Czech communist past. In fact the dominance of the commercial ecosystem that filled the Czechoslovakian social and economic niche after the fall of communism and the integration into the European and world markets makes such a return seem an impossibility. But when they interview one of the dedicated shoppers of the “hypermarkets” – what the Czechs call Wal-Mart-like big box stores – about her real desires, it is her dreams for literary and artistic pursuits such as writing, painting and singing, that maybe point towards another way.
In Czech Dream the filmmakers follow the creation of an ersatz hypermarket and the marketing campaign for the opening day of a store that is actually just a facade and scaffolding in the middle of a meadow. The motivation for such a prank/hoax is never really spelled out, although like most good hoax/pranks they tend to take on a life of their own, and like most successful hoax/pranks hilarity is provoked as well as wincing sympathy alternating with head shaking derision for those stupid enough to be easily duped, and enlightened moments for some who had their realities turned upside down, anger and violence from those who felt it was cruel to have their worlds turned the same.
It’s instructive – yet typical – that the consumers that came out for the opening and the usual politicians and media types direct their anger towards the filmmakers yet little against those who structure and guide them through the pens and gates of intelligence insulting ads and third world slave produced junk towards finding enlightenment in a jar of gherkins, heaven in bottled water.
Judged on a level of a prank though, there is much here to admire. Clues are seeded throughout the marketing campaign hinting of the illusionary nature of the hypermarket, such as the bubble-based logo, the ludicrous and hilarious ad jingle and the faux-ironic slogans – “don’t come” and “don’t spend” – which would have tipped off the shrewd beforehand and (hopefully) deliver a Zen whacking stick to those not so much after the prank was exposed.
And at the very least it made people get outside of the damn hypermarkets and shopping centers on a beautiful day and stimulated them to talk, debate and interact, a healthy irruption of more genuine being and sociality, a small price to pay for those who got their pride and egos hurt a bit.
Link to movie.
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