Picture it: the year is 1963, and in the imagined cereal capital of Battle Creek, Michigan, the stakes for breakfast food have never been higher, even surpassing the urgency of national security. “Unfrosted,” a new satirical film directed by comedy legend Jerry Seinfeld, takes us to an America so consumed with the breakfast habits of its youth that President Kennedy himself deems “commie breakfast” a greater peril than a Russian ship laden with nuclear arms. This is the backdrop for Seinfeld’s first directorial venture—a rollicking, nonsensical ride through a semi-fictional narrative about the birth of Pop-Tarts, where the traditions of children’s satire are both celebrated and utterly ignored for a spree of simple silliness.
The quirkiness of the setting cannot be overstated, featuring an Oscars-like ceremony for breakfast products and a funeral steeped in cereals, complete with mascot mourners. Seinfeld cleverly tells the story through the framing device of a narrative relayed to a questioning child, which leads one to muse about the deeper, potentially less-appropriate spins on history sheltered beneath the film’s goofy exterior. After all, it’s not every day you watch a film that presents a libidinous John F. Kennedy scheming with the Doublemint Twins, or delves into the dark neo-Nazi ties of Sea-Monkeys inventor Harold von Braunhut.
At the forefront of the plot is the heavily fictionalized competition between Kellogg’s and Post. The former, led by Edsel Kellogg III (played by Jim Gaffigan), enlists the ingenuity of NASA scientist Donna Stankowski (Melissa McCarthy) and a cadre of off-kilter thinkers to create a revolutionary pastry. This crew includes the aforementioned von Braunhut (Thomas Lennon), fitness guru Jack LaLanne (James Marsden), soft-hearted Tom Carvel (Adrian Martinez), cycling fanatic Steve Schwinn (Jack McBrayer), and the very embodiment of Chef Boyardee (Bobby Moynihan). Amy Schumer’s ‘Madamme Cereal’ Marjorie Post makes for a worthy adversary as she scrambles to counteract Kellogg’s maneuvering after her rivals corner the sugar market.
The sheer audacity of the film’s narrative—featuring a bizarre Sea-monkey-pasta hybrid and a mascot-led strike—promises to captivate viewers. Yet, the potential of Seinfeld’s comedic prowess seems lost in translation as quantity masquerades as quality. The film’s second half, showcasing cameos such as Peter Dinklage’s disgruntled milk syndicate boss, leaves one yearning for substance amidst the stream of lackluster one-liners. The promise of a showdown between Kellogg’s and Post fizzles into a repetition of gags that move from amusing to merely tolerable.
Seinfeld’s foray into observational humor never fully extends beyond the eccentricities of these fringe characters. The film’s slapstick efforts fall flat, and its lack of incisive comedy writing is not compensated for by a compelling storyline. Viewers might find themselves wishing for more substance among Cabana’s team beyond their accidental contributions to the Kellogg’s project or their goofy antics.
Lauded for its high production values, striking visual effects, and a cavalcade of celebrity cameos, “Unfrosted” has all the trappings of a hit film except for a robust script to bring it all together. The film seems to unwittingly critique itself when characters opine that adding frosting to Pop-Tarts is an ill-conceived notion, much like enjoying this cinematic confection that, while sweet, lacks any real nourishment.
“Unfrosted” is an exercise in unbridled whimsy, a carnival of comic invention that may leave some viewers yearning for more hearty humor. It is currently available for streaming on Netflix for anyone hungry for a nostalgic—and nutty—cut of cinematic satire.
