The Czech Dream: Hey Ho! Nobody Home

Socialist Czechoslovakia, 1972: crowds gather in lines to acquire goods during a period of shortage. Insurgence, 1989: riots break out in Prague, paving the way for the Velvet Revolution. Capitalist Czech Republic, 2002: riots and lines combine as masses of people enter grand stores looking for the newest products on the market. With this sequence of archival footage, directors Vít Klusák and Filip Remunda open the film Czech Dream (2004) and subsequently present their plan: to create the Czech Dream, a fake hypermarket with a complex marketing campaign around it, wherein they wish to lure as many people as possible to its sham opening on May 31, 2003. Klusák and Remunda do not explicit their reasons for the stunt, but it functions as an exercise to understand the impending new phase in the country´s history: becoming EU-member Czechia in 2004.[1]

The Czech Republic’s transition from socialism to capitalism generated an influx of products previously unavailable in the country, which created a social group addicted to consumerist experiences. This infatuated attitude, according to the film, lasted well into the early aughts, taking the Marxist idea of fetishizing commodities to extremes.[2] With their experiment, Klusák and Remunda question if Czechs were still mimicking what they understood as Western behavior and if in doing so they were losing their identity. Was that the Czech dream?

The first step in the directors’ experiment was re-packaging: Klusák and Remunda got fashionable haircuts and Hugo Boss suits to act as CEOs of the Czech Dream, while attractive labels were stamped on the products they would promote. Next, an advertising agency created a campaign with billboards, TV commercials, and even attractive women distributing flyers. All materials commanded people not to go to the hypermarket or spend money there, combined with images of high-quality goods at bargain prices. The provocative strategy, as expected, only made the new establishment more enticing.

At opening day, hopeful customers arrived at the field where the Czech Dream’s fake façade loomed in the background and, upon realizing the truth, attitudes varied. Some expectant clients became angry that no market existed and associated it with the Czech Republic itself: “this whole country is a big scam,” said one, “Czechs will fall for anything,” stated another. Many paralleled the situation with the European Union referendum campaign, a central topic in the country at the time: “now I am certain that I will vote against joining the EU,” one person affirmed. The government ads on the matter were perceived by many, the repercussions of the fake market showed, as just as devoid of content as the Czech Dream’s promotional materials.

At various points in the experiment, the advertisers Klusák and Remunda worked with voiced concerns about differences between publicizing and lying, and the ethical boundaries of the profession. One point of discussion entailed whether they could say that Czech Dream customers would not leave the inauguration empty-handed. Examining Poland’s adaptation into capitalism, researcher Magda Szcześniak observes that in the opening of the first McDonald’s restaurant in Warsaw in 1992, police officers were seen waving flags with the fast-food company’s logo on it.[3] Similarly, Czech Dream flags were distributed on its fake launch, strengthening the interpretation that behaviors created by the fall of the iron curtain were still resonant. By distributing flags and keychains, Klusák and Remunda ensured people did not literally leave empty-handed, but what they seemed to be challenging was the underlying issue of what it means to take something away from an experience, which goes beyond material aspects. That perception was shared by those who went to the Czech Dream’s inauguration event and, even after learning that there was no hypermarket, were still content because they had spent time outdoors.

Earlier in the film, when accompanying a shopaholic family’s trip to Tesco, the directors inquire about the mother’s hobbies. She mentions that she likes singing and does an impromptu presentation of “Hey Ho! Nobody Home” with her children. At that moment, the family seemed genuinely happy and connected in an activity that is absolutely unrelated to consumerism (enhanced by the lyrics “Meat nor drink nor money have I none / yet shall we be merry”). At the same time, their knowledge of the British song attests the Czech Republic’s relationship with the west. The choice is even more fortuitous as ultimately, “nobody home” and the absence of meat, drink, and money is precisely what the Czech Dream hypermarket was.

It is problematic to argue that the Czech Dream is a documentary because it creates an event more than examines it, making it rather a documented performance. Yet, by inserting moments like this caroling, Klusák and Remunda give viewers a wealth of material to reflect on consumerism, media, Western culture, and the Czech character.

[1] “Czechia - European Union - European Commission,” European Union, accessed November 17, https://europa.eu/european-union/about-eu/countries/member-countries/czechrepublic_en.

[2] A study of this behavior can be found in Magda Szcześniak’s study on Poland’s transition into capitalism through newly-introduced American and European products and its counterfeits. Magda Szcześniak, From Uma to Puma – on the role of the fake in Polish transition, unpublished, shared by the author.

[3] Szcześniak, From Uma to Puma, 1.