Written by PJ Grisar May 2, 2024
Ahead of Jerry Seinfeld's directorial debut, Unfrosted, the world witnessed a high fructose bloodbath.
At Orlando's Pop-Tarts Bowl, college football players competed for the chance to eat sentient Pop-Tarts. Pop-Tarts happily waved as they climbed into the giant toaster and emerged on the other side as a Grand Guignol communion for hungry athletes. They gutted Strawberry as Donna Summer's “Hot Stuff” played in the stadium.
The memes were quick and the sentiment was confusing. Was Pop-Tarts having a brand crisis? Did they forget that their target market was children? Similar bewilderment surrounded Seinfeld's new Netflix movie, inspired by a joke from his performance, about the origin story of the familiar hole-punched breakfast pocket. Who was it for?
In a later scene in Unfrosted, Seinfeld's Bob Kavanagh, a product developer at Kellogg's in the 1960s, meets two men from Madison Avenue (Jon Hamm and John Slattery). (The resemblance to Don Draper and Roger Sterling is purely intentional) was invited to make an advertising pitch. Their presentation includes packaging with pin-up models gazing seductively at consumers.
“You know we're a children's cereal company, right?” Kellogg's boss, Edsel Kellogg III (Jim Gaffigan), comes in.
Unlike Seinfeld's previous cinematic venture, the instantly memorable “Bee Movie,” “Unfrosted” isn't aimed at Kinderlachs, who will nostalgic for many of its Kennedy-era references. Rather, this movie is about the sensibilities of adults who refuse to grow up.
Set in Battle Creek, Michigan, the epicenter of American breakfast innovation, the film revolves around Cabana, who perhaps coincidentally doesn't have the same name as the astronaut, woos his partner Stan (Melissa McCarthy), and sets him up with her. It follows the outline of “The Right Stuff,'' which invites people outside. Her job was to make space food and assemble shelf-stable pastries for NASA. The enigmatic code name “Dingus” may have been a play on Oppenheimer's “gadget.”
Across the street from Kellogg's headquarters is the Post Company, a competitor led by Marjorie Post (Amy Schumer, one of the few real-life characters in the film), which is hard at work developing processed foods for toasters. Both companies engage in tense, sugar-filled experiments with corporate espionage and competing to be the first to hit the shelves. The resulting antics incorporate elements of The Godfather, with five grain families, a milk delivery mafia, and a sugar drug lord named El Sucre added to the mix.
Introducing a new genre of movies like Air, Flamin' Hot and Barbie, Seinfeld, co-written with Spike Feresten, Andy Robin and Barry Marder, is more than just a cozy Oscar image. Aiming for something. -Bait sponcon. And no matter how much you admire its core product, this movie is more than just his 90-minute commercial. At least it's not a purely Pop-Tarts commercial.
The film features a mid-century crew of “Taste Pilots” including the creator of the Schwinn bicycle, soft-serve ice cream pioneer Tom Carvell, and Chef Boyardee himself, who was brought in to provide inspiration for Bob and Stan. A look back at the innovations of (Thomas Lennon, as the inventor of the German-born Sea Monkey, who disappeared in the 1940s, suggests a kind of kitsch Operation Paperclip.)
A group of aspiring actors playing serial mascots, led by Hugh Grant as Tony the Tiger with an Oxbridge accent, rebels in a scene that momentarily recalls 6th January. Dean Norris appears as Nikita Khrushchev and Bill Burr as JFK as they head to the sugaring venue. Cuban crisis. A descending helicopter knocks off a block of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em robots, and Cabana discovers Baby Ruth in the pocket of William Howard Taft's suit.
Everything is thrown at the wall, and much of it sticks together like the gooey filling in a Pop-Tart.
With a cast of famous faces, including a former senator, and incredibly hit-or-miss gags, Seinfeld breathes cinematic life into what he's always done best. It's about asking, “What's wrong?” about things that most people dismiss as trivial matters.
A really stupid set piece with Drew Tarver as Pop, Mikey Day as Crackle, Kyle Mooney as Snap, and Andy Daley as Isaiah Lamb (of Quaker Oats). Photo by John P. Johnson/Netflix © 2024.
The stand-up, who decried the arrogance of serials who call themselves “life,” gives us a funeral scene in which the characters are buried in cornflakes and the widow presents free prizes folded like flags. The actor who recited the name “Newman” in an unforgettable line applies the same fiery anger to the word “Zantan.” An avowed connoisseur of junk that adults shouldn't eat, he brings childlike wonder to the false history of the invention that upended the cereal aisle forever.
Despite the bitter headlines he made in April while bickering about “PC crap,” this is the rare Seinfeld who only cares about things that don't matter and is actually fun and even a little sweet. It has become a vanity project.
The world of Unfrosted is one where Walter Cronkite (Kyle Dunnigan) cracks silly putty and moans about his marriage when he's off camera. It's a universe that's completely disinterested and uninterested in making any kind of statement. You can get away from a lot of heat and breathe some fresh air.
Express his stuff to Jerry. A galaxy of unrelated things that he filled with new absurd meanings. It's nice to see him playing with his food again.
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