The filmmakers have as much fun with this as they can. Meanwhile, in the great beyond, some of Frank and Brenda’s friends have made it home and await their great rewards, only to learn that Honey Mustard was being real as honey mustard can be. Kroll steals the show in his personification of the penultimate douche. (Edward Norton), and Teressa del Taco (Salma Hayek) to journey to learn the horrible truth-slash-return to their packaging on the shelf to be chosen again.Īnd then throw in a protagonist named Douche (Nick Kroll, as an actual douche) who, after finding his efforts to ‘get up in some sweet MILF’ defeated by Honey Mustard, mistakenly blames Frank and friends and acts as his name implies he would.
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Or tries to, and in the process set up a series of events that lead Frank, Brenda, Kareem Abdul Lavash (David Krumholtz), Sammy Bagel Jr. All good.įood is waiting to be chosen when Honey Mustard is returned to the store after being mistaken for regular mustard and dispels all that illusion. So while we’re dealing with what is perhaps a very simple movie, boiled down to the question “what if food had feelings,” it also takes the time to take shots at societal and sociological issues of greater scale. The foods and goods are all too eager to buy into this altruistic utopian vision. Enter, Frank (Seth Rogen), a sausage (the first of many, many, seriously, too many to count food puns), and Brenda Bunson (Kristin Wiig), a hot dog bun, two store-crossed lovers in respective ten and eight-pack packaging, aligned side by side on a display case.įrank, Brenda, and the rest of Shopwell’s denizens eagerly await the store’s opening so that they can sing on their readiness to be ‘chosen’ by the Gods to be taken to The Great Beyond, a magical land of R&R and copious out-of-package jackrabbit, food on food sex. Only, these foods and goods are living sentient beings. Sausage Party begins in Shopwell, the quinticential suburban super market: massive, sprawling, and home to many foods and goods.
So when the film posited a question in a Toy Story-esque fashion, and sticks to this question in a quasi-serious (albeit filled with excessive swearing and sexual innuendo) way, I am left asking myself what a particular bath salts using druggie asks himself when he learns that food is a collective of cognitive, walking, talking, foul-mouthed entities trying desperately not to be murdered (read: eaten) by us Gods (read: people): do I want to eat dirt forever in the face of this new reality? Little did I know that Sausage Party would prove to be Rogan and writing partner Evan Goldberg’s most coherent, linear, and stick-to-its-guns film to date. My mind, prior to entering the theater, soothsaid me sweet nothings like, “get ready to laugh” and “these guys are all right and usually funny, what could go wrong?” Well, not only was there no Jay Baruchel, but my mind was just way off base.
All things I can get onboard with, with the begrudging allowance that predominantly male parties can be OK (yes, we’d prefer more females, but we’ll manage). In my own world, a sausage party is an annual event that happens near the fourth of July in the woods, attended predominantly by males, accompanied by beers, drinking, and shenanigans.
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Furthermore, the safe confines of my mind intoned, sausage party would surely be what its name proclaimed it to be: a movie about sausages, a party, or a party involving sausages. In my mind, a sheltered place to be sure, this meant likely voice-acting incursions from Danny McBrides, Jonah Hill, James Franco, Michael Cera, and Jay Baruchel.
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But, as is often the case these days, leading the life so typical for people in this particular generation of having at least one-full time profession and one to three additional fulltime pursuits constituting another full time profession, I knew nothing about this film going into it other than it was animated, about food (sausages to be specific) and the brainchild of Seth Rogen and his cronies. Perhaps, as an individual who already entertains questions on whether or not I’m morally comfortable (in spite of a true appreciation for) eating meat, I should have more deeply considered whether or not Sausage Party was a film for me.