When Superstore first premiered on NBC back in 2015, it quickly distinguished itself as a fresh, funny take on the tried-and-true workplace comedy formula. Set in a fictional big box store called Cloud 9, the show followed a lovable ensemble of retail employees as they navigated the daily grind of low wages, corporate nonsense, and eccentric customers. But for many viewers, one question loomed large: was Cloud 9 actually based on Walmart?
As a retail industry expert and self-proclaimed picky shopper, I‘ve spent countless hours in just about every major chain store you can imagine. And from the moment I first set eyes on Cloud 9‘s familiar blue-and-gray color scheme and cavernous warehouse layout, I couldn‘t shake the sense that I‘d seen it all before – specifically, in Walmart.
Sure, Superstore‘s showrunners have played coy over the years about whether their fictional store was directly inspired by the retail giant. In a 2016 interview with TV Guide, creator Justin Spitzer coyly deflected when asked if Cloud 9 was meant to evoke Walmart, stating, "I think it‘s a store that‘s similar to a Walmart or a Target or a Kmart, one of those giant stores that sell everything."
But come on – the similarities between Cloud 9 and Walmart are simply too striking to ignore. From the employee dress code of khaki pants and blue vests, to the store‘s intercom codes and rollback sale signs, nearly every detail feels ripped straight from Sam Walton‘s playbook. That‘s no accident, either – as Spitzer revealed to The Wall Street Journal, the show‘s creative team actually consulted with members of OUR Walmart (now known as United for Respect) to get the details just right.
So while Superstore may not be an officially licensed Walmart parody, I think it‘s safe to say that the country‘s most ubiquitous big box chain was the show‘s number one muse. And frankly, it‘s not hard to see why. Love it or hate it, Walmart is a retail behemoth without equal. With over 4,700 stores in the U.S. alone and a staggering 1.5 million employees worldwide, Walmart isn‘t just a store – it‘s a cultural institution.
Indeed, Walmart has become so ingrained in the fabric of American life that, for many of us, it‘s practically synonymous with the very concept of a "superstore." Whether you‘re a dedicated bargain hunter or an avowed Walmart avoider, everyone has an opinion on the company and its impact on consumerism, labor, and local economies. That cultural cachet has made Walmart a go-to punchline and plot device in countless movies and TV shows over the years, from "Where the Heart Is" to "Mad TV."
But what sets Superstore apart is the way it balances biting satire with a genuine affection for its working-class characters. Through storylines about unionization efforts, immigration raids, and minimum wage woes, the show shines a spotlight on the often invisible struggles of retail employees – many of whom do indeed work at Walmart. At the same time, it also revels in the quirky camaraderie and inside jokes that can only develop among coworkers stuck together in the trenches for 40 hours a week.
Some of Superstore‘s most memorable moments deliberately evoke real-life retail experiences that will feel instantly recognizable to anyone who‘s ever set foot in a Walmart. Take the season one episode "Shots and Salsa," in which a seemingly endless line of customers descends on the store for a suspiciously cheap salsa sale, leaving the employees scrambling to restock (and clean up the inevitable broken glass). As a frequent Walmart shopper myself, I‘ve witnessed my fair share of frenzied crowds jostling for Black Friday doorbusters or cleaning supply panic-buys.
Or consider season three‘s "Health Fund," in which assistant manager Dina institutes a store-wide weight loss competition in a misguided attempt to reduce the company‘s health insurance premiums. It‘s a farcical yet pointed nod to Walmart‘s notoriously stingy approach to employee benefits – one that feels all too real to the 43% of Walmart‘s workforce enrolled in Medicaid.
Even minor visual gags, like the store‘s perpetually flickering fluorescent lights or its cringeworthy employee training videos, will elicit a knowing chuckle from anyone who‘s pulled a shift in an actual big box environment. By nailing all those little atmospheric details, Superstore immerses viewers in its uncannily Walmart-esque world.
But Superstore isn‘t content to simply replicate the Walmart experience for comedic effect. Instead, it uses the familiar touchstones of big box drudgery as a jumping-off point to explore the rich inner lives of its characters. From the forbidden workplace romance between Amy and Jonah to the unexpected activism of mild-mannered Mateo, these are not your generic, interchangeable retail drones. They‘re fully realized people with hopes, dreams, and unabashedly weird obsessions.
In that sense, Superstore actually has more in common with other classic workplace sitcoms, like The Office or Parks and Recreation, than it does with more superficial industry parodies. Yes, it‘s a show about working at a Walmart-like store – but more importantly, it‘s a show about the complex bonds that form between people who are stuck working together, day in and day out.
Personally, I‘ve always been struck by how deftly Superstore captures the peculiar intimacy of workplace friendships. When you‘re trapped under the same soul-crushing fluorescents for 40+ hours a week, swapping complaints about entitled customers and clueless middle managers, you develop a foxhole camaraderie with your fellow coworkers that can be hard to explain to outsiders. Superstore gets that dynamic exactly right, and elevates it into something oddly beautiful.
So while I‘ll always be the first to crack a joke about Cloud 9 being "Walmart-lite," I also appreciate the way Superstore transcends mere parody. To me, the show‘s Walmart-inspired setting ultimately functions as a clever Trojan horse, luring in skeptical viewers with the promise of breezy retail jokes, then blindsiding them with a heartfelt, humane portrait of working-class life. That‘s a bait-and-switch I‘m happy to fall for every time.
At the end of the day, does it really matter whether Cloud 9 is officially based on Walmart? Well, maybe not – but it sure does make my weekly shopping trips a lot more entertaining. Now if you‘ll excuse me, I have some rollback-priced salsa to stockpile.
