Parallel Space
The word "authority" originally referred to people whose opinions and decisions were voluntarily accepted and respected by society. Today, the term is often mistakenly associated with state institutions, which are mostly authoritarian. Teachers, police officers, bureaucrats, and politicians enforce obedience based on a social contract we never voluntarily accepted. In a democratic society, we elect representatives to whom we grant powers that we, as ordinary citizens, do not have. But how is it possible that these individuals have powers that ordinary citizens lack? Where does this power, which affects nearly all of our lives, originate?
We see democracy as the will of the people, yet politicians often make decisions with which we disagree, and we are forced to comply under the threat of force. We are required to regularly pay for state services, which are often inefficient or substandard. Most of us take responsibility for our decisions and accept the consequences of our actions. However, when the state fails, it is we, the citizens, who bear the consequences, while those responsible for the failure often face no responsibility. This is why some people view the state as a monopoly on violence. Does the state deserve to have respect as an authority, or is it more accurately described as authoritarian?
At a time when the state is losing the trust of many citizens, this documentary unveils the stories of those seeking alternatives. The author goes on a personal journey in search of a greater sense of freedom. Along the way, he meets anarchists, digital nomads, and experts who offer alternative perspectives on the relationship between individuals and the state. Through contrasts between history and the present, personal experiences, and visions of freedom, the film provides a critical examination of the role of the state in individual lives and the possibility of living independently in the modern world.
We see democracy as the will of the people, yet politicians often make decisions with which we disagree, and we are forced to comply under the threat of force. We are required to regularly pay for state services, which are often inefficient or substandard. Most of us take responsibility for our decisions and accept the consequences of our actions. However, when the state fails, it is we, the citizens, who bear the consequences, while those responsible for the failure often face no responsibility. This is why some people view the state as a monopoly on violence. Does the state deserve to have respect as an authority, or is it more accurately described as authoritarian?
At a time when the state is losing the trust of many citizens, this documentary unveils the stories of those seeking alternatives. The author goes on a personal journey in search of a greater sense of freedom. Along the way, he meets anarchists, digital nomads, and experts who offer alternative perspectives on the relationship between individuals and the state. Through contrasts between history and the present, personal experiences, and visions of freedom, the film provides a critical examination of the role of the state in individual lives and the possibility of living independently in the modern world.
I had a Dream about an Elephant
On the Slovak–Hungarian borderland, far from both Bratislava and Budapest, Mikuláš Vareha built his own "state within a state". The former policeman made his fortune on multimillion-euro tax fraud, handed out jobs, food and village parties, and became the "King of Zemplín" – worshipped by people the state had forgotten.
The film captures him after nearly a decade in prison. His kingdom lies in ruins, yet his ego refuses to surrender. He plans a comeback amid mud and rust – starting dead limousines, summoning his people, dreaming of a zoo with an elephant in the middle of the Zemplín plain. But his properties keep crumbling, and so does his body.
In early 2026, reality delivers an unscripted cut: Vareha dies suddenly while feeding his chickens. Everything he left behind passes to Daniela, the partner who stood beside him for decades – the only person whose voice he truly listened to. She does what he never could: she accepts the end. She auctions off the cars, sells the buildings, tears down what cannot be sold, and finally parts with the legendary petrol station where it all began. Yet in a tragicomic paradox, she commissions a larger-than-life statue for his grave, works on a book about his life, and lends her patronage to songs about the "King of Zemplín".
The empire ends up as scrap. The myth around him keeps growing. The film is a study of populism, of how a man like Vareha rises to power, and why his myth outlives him.
The film captures him after nearly a decade in prison. His kingdom lies in ruins, yet his ego refuses to surrender. He plans a comeback amid mud and rust – starting dead limousines, summoning his people, dreaming of a zoo with an elephant in the middle of the Zemplín plain. But his properties keep crumbling, and so does his body.
In early 2026, reality delivers an unscripted cut: Vareha dies suddenly while feeding his chickens. Everything he left behind passes to Daniela, the partner who stood beside him for decades – the only person whose voice he truly listened to. She does what he never could: she accepts the end. She auctions off the cars, sells the buildings, tears down what cannot be sold, and finally parts with the legendary petrol station where it all began. Yet in a tragicomic paradox, she commissions a larger-than-life statue for his grave, works on a book about his life, and lends her patronage to songs about the "King of Zemplín".
The empire ends up as scrap. The myth around him keeps growing. The film is a study of populism, of how a man like Vareha rises to power, and why his myth outlives him.