The sitcom A mi kis falunk (Our little village), on RTL Klub, entertains a lot of Hungarians on Saturday nights. About a year ago I wrote a post describing an outraged article in Magyar Idők by Kata Jurák, who seems to be a regular at Pesti Srácok. According to her, “RTL was over the top” when it decided to air “this unbelievably tasteless, primitive, and dumbed-down television series which discredits people living in the countryside.” The show greatly offends “conservative and Christian people.” The scriptwriters portray the villagers as “stupid, easily influenced, and corrupt drunkards.”
RTL chose Pilisszentlélek (Pilis-Holy Spirit) as the scene for Pajkaszeg, the imaginary village. According to Jurák, the choice of venue was an added affront to the conservative Christian audience. The area is full of such significant Christian treasures as the ruins of a monastery and a “holy well” where a miracle occurred in 1949.
Naturally, Kata Jurák never watches such “trash,” but she read an article in Pesti Srácok about the case that Krisztina Morvai, then a Jobbik member of the European Parliament, brought against RTL Klub, questioning the company’s right to film the series in Pilisszentlélek. The reason for her suit was simple. Morvai owned a house in the village and was greatly bothered by the inconveniences the filming caused as well as by the many enthusiasts who came to see the real Pajkaszeg. Despite all the noise she made, Morvai’s case went nowhere, especially since Pilisszentlélek was very happy with the extra income the filming brought in.
Of course, Jurák was wrong about the draw of “Our Little Village,” which is the most popular of all RTL Klub programs. Initially, the critics were not thrilled with the quality of the program, but they knew that sooner or later it was bound to become a favorite because it was a Hungarian adaptation of the Slovak sitcom Horná Dolná, the Slovak equivalent of Pajkaszeg, which had been a favorite ever since 2015. Horná Dolná is the most successful show in the history of Slovakia. On average, 900,000 people watch each episode in a country of 5.5 million. The Slovak original also portrayed Horná Dolná as a place where almost everything revolves around the pub, which is located in the same building as the office of the mayor. The Slovak show is in its tenth season, with 90 episodes so far.
It was not just critics on the right who found fault with the Hungarian show when it first aired. Magyar Narancs panned it after the first episode. But a year later the same critic had to admit that “Our Little Village had become a favorite” of television audiences. Although the episodes in the first season were not blockbusters, by the second season more than a million people were faithful viewers. By now, even Népszava has taken note of the new season, writing that “this series is one of those few that steadily grows on its audience. All of their crazy characters can be equally liked.”
Clik here to view.
The mayor of “Pajkaszeg” in front of the “brioche with cocoa” statue, commemorating his election
So, a couple of weeks ago I decided to watch two episodes, and I found them to be hilarious. The first was about the village inhabitants’ anxiety over the news that Pajkaszeg will lose its independence and will have to join Pajkarét, the neighboring village and their rival. If only six people were to move into Pajkaszeg, the problem would be solved. The show is about the ruses the main characters devise to achieve this aim, culminating in a ghost inhabitant Pajkarét’s mayor conjures up to save the independence of both villages. Almost everything that happens in the village is done under the table.
The second episode, which is new, is about dentistry. It may have been inspired by the current “dentist strike.” One of the characters has an awful toothache but refuses to go to the city to see a dentist. The mayor and his secretary discover that a mobile dentist can come to the village, and they believe that the service is free. Unfortunately, the information is not quite accurate. The service is free only if 25% of the population actually use the dental service. They try to entice people to go, but everybody is afraid of the dentist. And so, they can’t meet the 25% threshold. At which point the mayor has a little chit-chat with the dentist and the problem is solved. The episode calls attention to the dreadful situation of Hungarian dental care and, at the same time, shows how even the dentist can be bribed.
In addition to watching these two shows (which, of course, are a lot funnier when viewed than when summarized), I read a recap of a couple of others. One recent episode features a young couple who decide to move into Pajkaszeg, which is such a rare occasion that the district policeman almost arrests them because he thinks they are stealing someone’s furniture. They quickly discover that internet service in the village is so slow that it is almost unusable and that the cell signal is so weak that no call can be made from their house. But then, the mayor finds out that free money is available from the European Union for that specific purpose. He is quite ready to take advantage of it, although most of the people in the village have no interest in the internet.
One criticism of the show, coming from the Christian conservative side, focuses on the portrayal of the priest. For example, he can be seen taking erotic photos of one of the beauties of the village. Their other gripe is that the villagers are shown as drinking to excess. Indeed, just as in the Slovak original, most of the community life in “Our Little Village” is centered in the pub. The Christian right might complain, but alcohol consumption, according to the World Health Organization, is very high in both countries. The show most likely gives an accurate picture of the situation in those villages that still have pubs.
All in all, the show is popular light entertainment, a comedy with occasionally farcical elements, sprinkled with some social criticism. A welcome break from not so comedic real-world events.