Czechs’ Turn to Debate Lowbrow TV as American Shows Fill the Air

East Europeans force-fed bland communist state TV for decades are feasting on “The X-Files,” “Melrose Place” and other spicy imports broadcast by a host of private stations.

Yet in the culture-conscious heart of the old continent, the Hollywood diet is not for everyone.

Soaps, sitcoms and crime shows, paired with “slash and crash” newscasts and aggressive marketing, draw blockbuster ratings. But critics link rising crime to the violence-soaked Western imports. Others worry about fading national identity and say earnings are being siphoned out of the region instead of financing home-grown productions.

Private television has proved “a gold mine” for the investors, says Petr Stepanek, vice chairman of the Czech Republic’s broadcasting regulatory council. “But civilized countries usually want something in return for the broadcasting license”--namely, quality TV.

Even more troubling, he and other critics say, is the propriety of allowing foreigners to control a network, given the opinion-molding potential that comes with a broadcast license.

“In much of Western Europe and in the United States, such a situation would be illegal or at the very least questionable,” says Jan Culik, a Czech media observer and journalist.

Most criticism is directed at U.S.-financed Central European Media Enterprises, which was the first to launch a national commercial network in the former Soviet bloc.

CME’s TV Nova went on the air in February 1994 in the Czech Republic and quickly became the No. 1 network. It still garners up to 70% of the audience, against two state channels and a newer private upstart.

CME and its partners also operate the leading national stations in Slovakia, Slovenia, Romania and Ukraine. Last fall’s launch of the TVN network in Poland and a TV station in Budapest, Hungary, extended CME’s reach to more than 100 million people.

All that helped make CME, controlled by cosmetics heir Ronald Lauder and former U.S. Ambassador to Hungary Mark Palmer, a media darling on Wall Street.

But in a sign of growing public distaste for its formula, CME failed to win a license last summer for a nationwide network in Hungary. The government chose two Western European-led groups even though their bids were lower, because they promised more public service programs.

The decision, which CME is challenging in court, is ironic because CME started out with similar pledges.

Teamed with five Czech and Slovak intellectuals, the company beat 20 other applicants for the free TV Nova license in 1993.

CME put up two-thirds of Nova’s start-up cash, more than $9 million.

The locals provided a vision of “intelligent TV”--quality films, educational programs and other highbrow fare matching the presumed tastes of a country with a playwright for president.

But when Nova started broadcasting, programming was more “Dallas” than Dostoevsky. And viewers loved it.

“It’s the first thing I turn on when I get home,” says Petra Havlova, 23, sipping beer at the Nova pub in Prague. “There’s a better chance of finding something to watch.”

Intellectuals cried foul. Stepanek calls Nova’s license application “a fraud,” suggesting the company never intended to stick to the original proposal.

But the regulatory council cannot act because Parliament later revised the broadcasting law, extending programming exemptions to CME that initially were planned only for small cable and satellite TV operators.

TV Nova’s station manager, Vladimir Zelezny, one of the five founders and now president of CME’s television station group as well, denies promises were broken.

Intellectuals dislike Nova for revealing that Czechs are “normal Europeans” and not a cultural elite, he says.

Nova, CME’s biggest moneymaker, earned $44 million in 1996 on advertising revenue of $108 million. Year-end figures for 1997 have yet to be released, but they are expected to be hurt by last year’s devaluation of the Czech koruna.

Zelezny says 42% of Nova’s air time features its own productions. Mostly, though, that means inexpensive game shows, talk shows and self-promotion.

“I would be happy with a good Czech soap opera,” says Milan Smid, a media expert at Prague’s Charles University.

Many East Europeans also associate violent shows from the West with rising crime rates.

Although cause and effect is hard to prove, “even the American public favors regulating the amount of violence on TV,” says Czech filmmaker Peter Krsak, the only one of Nova’s founders to challenge CME. He is suing CME for control of the license.

Smid blames Czech lawmakers for writing an “unsophisticated media policy.” But he sees private television as positive overall because it gives viewers more choice.

CME also wins some praise for its aggressive newscasts, which have forced dowdy state channels to liven up.

Yet the quest for dramatic video sometimes leads to questionable judgment, such as showing a severed head from an auto accident, or Czech President Vaclav Havel in his hospital bed -- shot through the window with a telephoto lens.

In Romania, CME-controlled PRO-TV was full of pro-NATO hype last spring and has been accused of favoring reform-minded parties in its reporting.

“Whether they have any political agenda is hard to say,” Culik, the media analyst, says of CME. “It’s mostly about scandal” to attract higher ratings and profits.

Zelezny insists CME stations are unbiased and independent.

“Everywhere there’s the fear that this tool will be misused,” he says. But “we are hated by all political parties in some way, so that’s a good sign.”