The Czech drama of that time also starts to address the problem of the victim. What is different in this case is the motive: it is the problem of accidental death which changes nothing, and the indifference of others.

What is striking, however, is the parody-like reference to the model solutions of the old dramatic form by Czech authors—as a kind of complement to the experience of absurdity. Jaroslav Vostrý interpreted this tendency of his compatriots as a sign of a crisis that had to be overcome.

For example, Jan Jílek's play I Want to Live (premiere in 1986) resembles the form of a classic drama: it features five characters and the unity of place, time and action is preserved, with a single plot line. The topic seems to be borrowed from the textbooks of socialist realism. A couple of reckless young workers: Milan and Andula, preoccupied with themselves rather than with their work in a factory, damage a valuable machine. The dramatic problem can be reduced to the question of whether this “love crime” will come to light, or whether the perpetrators themselves will confess their guilt.

But the main conflict of the drama lies in the juxtaposition of two generations: the responsible “old” and the reckless “young.” In this case, the proof of the assumed thesis is never called into question. The initially distinct plot line is quickly broken by a cycle of independent scenes, governed by their own logic of episodes, completely unrelated to the main conflict or thesis. It is in the humorous aspect of these scenes that the real value of the drama lies. One can even suspect that the openly ostentatiously pretextual nature of the plot indicates its conscious disregard by the author.

The final death of an elderly, jovial pensioner named Orliček (Andula's grandfather) seems to be equally accidental and poorly motivated. All his death does is provide a formal excuse to close the plot mixed up in all the episodes. Orliček could not bear the disappointment caused by his reckless granddaughter due to her neglect at work. This cathartic death has little in common with the earlier image of the deceased—a likeable erotomaniac—nor does it change anything. All it does is trigger Andula's exclamation, which is the title of the play.