The breakfast wars of the 1960s were legendary. At their center: cereal rivals Kellogg’s and Post. Writer/director Jerry Seinfeld has apparently worked for years on developing the perfect project to harness the power of the Pop-Tart. Coming on the heels of so many excellent biopics in recent years, Unfrosted opts for an entirely different approach. In this case, that means a full-on comedy with childish humor, a mismatched musical score, and more celebrity cameos that there are Pop-Tart flavors. Maybe in some alternate dimension, the zany whimsy practically baked into the premise would make for a deliciously potent burst of comedy. As is, this limp nostalgia burst leaves little room for enjoyment.
Our window into the world of Kellogg’s is Bob Cabana (Seinfeld), the alleged creator of the legendary Pop-Tarts, as he recounts “the real story.” In an era defined by milk and cereal, the battle for supremacy began and ended in Battle Creek, Michigan, the home of both Kellogg’s and Post. Bob recounts vital moments in the creation of the Pop-Tart, although what any given viewer would consider “vital” may be very different from what Seinfeld and his team think. I knew we were in trouble when Kellogg’s swept nearly every category at the “1963 Bowl and Spoon Awards,” culminating in a needlessly silly “cereal we lost segment.” Clearly this bit takes aim at the Oscars and other superfluous awards ceremonies. Lacking so much as a modicum of subtlety, many moments here echo similarly ridiculous sentiments and practically nonexistent takeaways. Why not just tell the story we have all come to see? Did we really need a physical representation of Chef Boyardee or Little Debbie?
After sampling a pastry filled with goo from children in a dumpster outside of a Post factory, Bob becomes obsessed with beating the other company to the punch in being the first out of the gate with this revolutionary addition to the breakfast landscape. The villain, Marjorie Post (Amy Schumer), and her sidekick, Rick Ludwin (Max Greenfield), set out to become top dog in the breakfast world. Meanwhile, Bob and his team come out with all manner of insanely mundane inventions with no real value, such as a fresh fruit puree in a sardine can. Trying to keep up with the direction has very little in the way of rewards, though eagle-eyed watchers will be able to pick up on various movie and television references. The rarest stroke of genius makes for the best sequence of the movie: an ode to AMC’s wonderful Mad Men.
Following in the misguided footsteps of horrendous fictionalized Bob Ross movie Paint, Unfrosted makes the mistake of trying to mess with a story that would have been wild enough without twisting it into something else. Think Weird Al “biopic” Weird, but without any laughs whatsoever. At one point, the mascot of Tony the Tiger (Hugh Grant) leads a revolt with all the other breakfast mascots to storm the Kellogg’s building. Milk men are said to be ruthless and cartel-eque, and side character eccentric dreamer Donna Stankowski all but wastes a game Melissa McCarthy. None of the random celebrity cameos seem to fit, relying on their shock value as a gag to carry the story along. If any of this was genuinely funny, it could almost get a pass. Hailing from comedy heavyweight Jerry Seinfeld, this should have been an instant home run. Instead, Unfrosted is so burnt around the edges that only a fool would attempt to eat its gooey insides.
Crack open the truth behind Unfrosted, coming to Netflix on Friday, May 3rd.
