Seinfeld’s serially funny breakfast biopic
Unfrosted (M, 96 mins)
Directed by Jerry Seinfeld
Reviewed by James Croot ****
For a man whose nine-season, 167-episode self-titled sitcom was famously “a show about nothing”, Jerry Seinfeld’s first foray into cinematic features was certainly something.
Although on one level, Bee Movie was a knockabout animated adventure following the fortunes of the self-aware Barry B. Benson, its humour was decidedly adult. While parents perhaps squirmed at his relationship with the Renee Zellweger-voiced florist Vanessa Bloome, it was jokes like, “You’re not dating a WASP? Your parents will kill you”, and Barry’s attempt to sue humanity for their exploitation of his fellow bees (“When I’m done with them, they won’t be able to say ‘honey, I’m home’ without paying a royalty.”) that really struck a chord and made it not only an unlikely hit, but one of the more enduring cartoon movies of the past two decades.
Seventeen years on, Seinfeld is back, making his feature directorial and liveaction-movie acting debut, with a scattershot farce that may seem like the Austin Powers of the recently burgeoning making-of-a-brand genre (see Tetris, Air, The Founder, The Beanie Bubble), but is in fact a whip-smart parody of the Space Race (Seinfeld himself says he was inspired by 1983’s The Right Stuff) and a pointed satire of both 1960s and modern-day politics.
Yes, it’s true, its helmer, co-writer and leading man has done himself and his film no favours with his recent rants against modern-day mores (and trepidation) when it comes to comedy, but once immersed in Unfrosted’s sheer nuttiness, you’ll find a gag-to-guffaw ratio that’s almost on a par with the greats of 80s and 90s like Airplane!, The Naked Gun and Caddyshack.
Aiming to tell the “real story” of the invention of America’s staple breakfast pastry (“the greatest two rectangles since The 10 Commandments”) – Kellogg’s Pop-Tart – Unfrosted pitches it as a race between Battle Creek, Michigan’s two warring cereal giants – Kellogg’s and Post.
Part of the country’s five “cereal families”, their bitter rivalry has spanned generations, even as current heads Edsel III (Jim Gaffigan) and Marjorie (Amy Schumer) seemingly have unresolved feelings for one another.
Dominating the annual Bowl and Spoon Awards, Kellogg’s enters 1963 on the back of 14 straight quarters of record profits.
Despite that, head of development Bob Cabana (Seinfeld) is a worried man. The company’s in-development Fruit Loops are soggy within 15 seconds, Snap, Crackle and Pop are agitating for “a board game, album deal and maybe even a beach movie” rather than just making supermarket appearances, while rumours persist that Post may have finally cracked the fruit-filled pastry that Cabana himself had once declared “a dead end”.
“It’s portable – and it might even be nutritious,” he wails, “This could sink us – there isn’t a Kellogg’s cereal that could survive.”
Persuading his former co-developer and sparring partner Donna Stankowski (Melissa McCarthy) back from Nasa, the pair assemble “some of the most innovative, unconventional minds on the planet” to get to work on their own shelf-stable, heatable fruit pastry breakfast product.
But as well as the competition, news of Kellogg’s move prompts outrage, not only from within certain departments of their own organisation, but also a powerful cartel, deeply upset that it might be cut out of the lucrative breakfast market altogether.
What follows is a hilarious, cameoladen, laugh-a-minute joke fest featuring an alternative explanation for the Cuban Missile Crisis, a sea monkey monster, mafioso milkmen and the truly inspired appearance of two period-appropriate characters from one of the most beloved dramas of the past 20 years.
A cross between The Hudsucker Proxy and Don’t Look Up, Unfrosted is filled with off-beat and unexpected delights.
From Hugh Grant’s pompous Tony the Tiger actor Thurl Ravenscroft to Christian Slater and Peter Dinklage’s “lactose low-lifes”, this features the cream(ed-corn) of American Saturday Night Live-style comedians (everyone from Jack McBrayer to Ronny Chieng and Fred Armisen), unleashing them on a riotous romp that most certainly isn’t above puns, scatological humour and pratfalls among its deceptively sugar-coated barbs aimed at those of a certain political leaning.
Unfrosted is available to stream on Netflix.