Unfrosted (2024) Movie Drinking Game
Down a Shot of Milk: every time a mascot appears in full costume
Down a Shot of Milk: every time a cereal magnate disses another cereal magnate
Down a Shot of Milk: every time a grimacing Marjorie glares out her window blinds at the glaring red K across the street, a la the Grinch looking down on Whoville (complete with a familiar lime green outfit)
Down a Shot of Milk: every time Walter Cronkite trauma-dumps on his producers
Down a Shot of Milk: every time the mythical lab is mentioned in a conversation
By: Vidal D’costa (Three Beers) –
It’s the swinging ’60s, and cereal magnates have started beef over whose breakfast is the tastiest/most lacking in nutrition/packed with toxins of them all. It’s not long before the dairy syndicate wants a piece of the pie, and meanwhile, a tiger who’s been sealed off in a sweaty costume for far too long returns for revenge, resulting in other beloved mascots who are also hungry for more staging a coup (in this case, a literal food fight). And before I forget, this movie is also a highly fictionalized origins story for a revolutionary real-life delicacy known as… the Pop Tart! Come to think of it… Unfrosted is just Death of Stalin, but with grape nuts and Cheerios.
A Toast
The tone of Unfrosted is akin to Jerry Seinfeld’s previous magnum opus Bee Movie, and so it’s best to brace yourselves for an extremely buffoonish yet thought-provoking and timely social commentary on similar lines, with the movie taking jabs at the chokehold of materialistic desires, consumerism, power plays, office politics, gatekeeping formulas, stealing formulas, and TV show tie-ins alike- showcased via an ensemble of eccentric yet highly believable characters and subplots such as the ‘antagonist’ of the tale, Marjorie Post, who heads Kellogg’s’ rival company and is basically a female Mr. Burns, Kellogg’s’ star employee Bob Cabana, who dreams of becoming rich enough to afford sod (the king of lawns and the ‘real deal’, as he claims) and one might even say this man needs to touch some grass, as well as the whimsical Krispy Boys comprising Snap, Crackle, and Pop whose popularity boost has led to them demanding a record deal, but rest assured who remain undermined by the ‘big man’ along with the other overworked mascots.
Aside from acting as a pastiche on pastry, Unfrosted also boasts of solid comedic interludes where the lines between improv and scripted gags are blurred. But what probably serves as the droolworthy frosting atop this Pop Tart are its convincing cast members and well-timed cameos, all of whom commit to the absurd material and roles handed to them, thus allowing even the jokes that would’ve otherwise fallen flat to go down one’s gullet smoothly: With Amy Schumer channelling her inner Ray Liotta from Bee Movie and impressing as the snappy and driven Ms. Post, Max Greenfield lending her ample support as a secretary who is forever at the mercy of her temperamental nature and penchant for flinging typewriters at him, Hugh Grant turning in a grrrreat, self-deprecating act as the calculating thespian Thurl Ravenscroft who won’t go down without one final roar (and this character could very well be an extension to the Paddington lore too), the trio of Drew Tarver, SNL alumni Kyle Mooney, and Mikey Day cracking me up as Snap-Crackle-Pop, Thomas Lennon chewing up the scenery with his put-on German accent as Harold von Braunhut, Peter Dinklage playing it straight in a not so friendly appearance as a possibly psychotic milkman, Jon Hamm unexpectedly dropping by for a tongue in cheek cameo that addresses how the quality of a product is easily overlooked in favour of advertising/grabbing eyeballs, Jim Gaffigan channeling his inner Jeffrey Tambor as the mellow head of Kellogg’s who is only holding the post due to nepotism and is unsure of his own capabilities, Melissa McCarthy delivering an endearing performance as Stan, a wise-cracking former NASA food scientist/the real brains of the operation, and last but not least, Bill Burr killing it (no pun intended) as JFK with a hysterical performance that should earn him a presidential honour. Even newcomers Eleanor Sweeney and Bailey Sheetz are a hoot as the dumpster-diving kids.
Unfrosted is also a variety pack full of countless pop culture references (both current and ancient) involving urban legends, cereal wars, and the beef between the US and the USSR, never coming across as overstuffed and also occasionally treating viewers to a true fun fact or two. It brims with running gags which are milked with brilliant results that left me wheezing- be it a troubled Walter Cronkite trauma dumping on his producer in between breaks in the newsroom and also indulging in a growing obsession with the latest innovations in novelty toys, a surreal subplot involving Chef Boyardee teaming up with fraudulent novelty toy magnate Harold von Braunhut to create a modern-day Frankenstein’s monster in the form of a Sea Monkey Pop Tart that’s straight out of a B grade horror movie, janitors going undercover with makeshift GoPro devices (cameras attached to their mops), and even a clever ode to Apocalypse Now that subtly mirrors the ongoing AI uprising. The movie also features the second-most side-splitting funeral ceremony since the one from Death of Stalin (even if Dean Norris’ take on Krushchev doesn’t hold a candle to the genius of Steve Buscemi’s more nuanced take on the same historical figure), both of which are a masterclass in cringe humour.
Lastly, its costume design and production values are tacky, retro, and overall highly period accurate while also amplifying its colourfully robust aesthetics.
Beer Two
Strangely, Jerry Seinfeld ends up being the weakest link in a movie that he wrote and directed himself, paling in comparison to his co-stars with a one-note and rather inconsistent comic delivery that doesn’t extend beyond his stand-up persona. Acting is clearly not his strongest suit.
Beer Three
The first half faces a dip in quality due to a half-baked tone and a lack of structure with certain scenes dragged to the point of coming across as an extended commercial of the very products it parodies.
Verdict
While there is room for improvement, Unfrosted still won me over mainly thanks to a delightful cast that’s earned their paychecks and were committed to the flavourful gags and downright tomfoolery throughout, as well as a ballistic second half that’s funnier than the first half. It also ends up rising above light fare and is an endlessly goofy, unpredictable, yet spot-on spoof on consumerism. Oatmeal aficionados might need to sit this one out, though. Also, stick around for the musical end credits which are choc-a-bloc full of bloopers.
