Unfrosted Is as Bland as It Sounds

In between groaning that political correctness is ruining comedy and making questionable visits to Israel amid their genocide of the Palestinian people, Jerry Seinfeld sat down for a recent tell-all interview in which he remarked that the movie business is over. “Film doesn’t occupy the pinnacle in the social, cultural hierarchy that it did for most of our lives,” Seinfeld said. “When a movie came out, if it was good, we all went to see it. We all discussed it. We quoted lines and scenes we liked. Now we’re walking through a fire hose of water, just trying to see.” In a sense, it feels like he’s right. I mean, how else could the creator and star of one of the most revered sitcoms of all time be putting out a lame streaming comedy about Pop-Tarts (that no one will remember past its marketing cycle) if the film industry wasn’t already a walking corpse?
I don’t doubt Seinfeld understands the dry irony of his statements in conjunction with the release of Unfrosted, which is why his stab at the recent trend of Brand Biopics feels extra cynical. Unfrosted feels like a writer/director’s feature-length expression of “Movies are over, I’m bored, let’s throw this piece of shit out into the world, let them eat it up.” While it’s true that the movie business isn’t what it used to be, and is under constant threat of being stripped for parts by the hands of venture capital, an enormous amount of great movies are still released every year. Unfrosted is not one of them.
To give Seinfeld some credit, this thrown-together hodgepodge of half-baked bits in search of a movie seems like it was made on a lark. The world was in the deep end of the pandemic, and Seinfeld writer Spike Feresten suggested they commit to a throw-away fascination the comedian would bring up about 1960s Battle Creek, Michigan, where the Pop-Tart was invented. The two rounded up fellow Bee Movie scribes Andy Robin and Barry Marder, and soon they had something that resembled a script, though I can only assume it was the delirium of cabin fever that led to them thinking it was something worth making.
Nonetheless, the great minds at Netflix saw fit to have the project produced, and thus Seinfeld was able to make his directorial debut (and give his first live-action lead performance) in a tepid comedy about a battle between corporations to invent the now-ubiquitous toaster pastry. He stars as Bob Cabana, a fictional Kellogg’s executive who, together with the likes of CEO Edsel Kellogg III (Jim Gaffigan) and fellow suit Donna Stankowski (Melissa McCarthy), goes head-to-head with rival sugary breakfast company Post to reinvent children’s breakfast—each racing against the clock to move away from cereal and create this new, exciting goo-filled rectangle.
If there’s one apt element Seinfeld and company bring to Unfrosted, it’s that they knowingly treat it like a bunch of silly bullshit. Whatever story exists here is simply an excuse to service an assortment of recognizable comic actors participating in goofy antics revolving around the comically dramatic, occasionally life-or-death rivalry between breakfast cereal corporations. Any commitment to historical truth is brazenly disregarded, clearly aiming for a spoofing tone that lies somewhere between Mel Brooks and David Wain.