What a relief that the creative, warped minds of Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg (the hilarious “Pineapple Express” and 4-star “Superbad”) are behind “Sausage Party,” an animated adventure in which anthropomorphized food discovers that seemingly benevolent human gods are actually savage murderers of innocent potatoes (and countless other products) who scream for their lives. In lesser hands, this R-rated comedy surely would stoop to lazy gags like a beet saying “Actually, I feel healthy” in response to “This beat is sick”; addressing a living can of beans after saying the expression “Spill the beans”; and a container of meat loaf who sings like, well, duh.
Wait. That’s exactly what happens in this shocking disappointment, which seems to have been conceived in a 3 a.m. haze and never re-evaluated as merely a rerun of a “Find your way home” kids’ movie, not a reinvention. Yes, I realize most kids’ movies don’t include bath salts and a literal orgy of food.
Frank (Seth Rogen) doesn’t just dream of being “five inches deep in some bun”; this hot dog believes in “bunogamy” and wants her to be Brenda (Kristen Wiig), who, well, returns his affections, adding no drama whatsoever. The only question is if they’ll ever emerge from their packaging, which they do in a convoluted, strained sequence that sets up an angry Douche (Nick Kroll, reusing his Bobby Bottleservice voice from “Kroll Show”) as a villain who continually grows louder and less funny. Can Frank and Brenda learn the secrets of the world both in their grocery store and out in “the great beyond” before the Douche (also the name of Kroll’s character on “Parks and Recreation,” weird) gets his revenge or something?
Sigh/groan/dammit. Like Rogen/Goldberg, who conceived the story with Jonah Hill (who voices another sausage) and share writing credit with two others, couldn’t do better than a bagel (voiced by Edward Norton, doing a good Woody Allen) named Sammy Bagel Jr. being picked on by an anti-Semitic Lavash (David Krumholtz) who longs for the 77 bottles of extra virgin olive oil promised him. Or a taco (Salma Hayek) who also has eyes for Brenda and says things like “Let’s not start eating each other’s boxes just yet.” Or a double meaning of “crackers” and the embarrassing use of “guac and balls.” We’re not that far off from giggling at “camel toe” in the South African-set, black hole of a dumpster that is “Blended.”
What makes a half-hearted attempt at advocacy for sexual and personal liberation mostly feels like a juvenile remake of “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids” with the wit of Trader Joe’s packaging Asian products as Trader Ming’s. I laughed at a returned jar of honey mustard (Danny McBride) identifying the folly of wanting to leave the store (“You’re celebrating your doom!”) and one product whose name initially lists all of its chemicals. Won’t spoil it, and not funny on paper anyway.
But toilet paper complaining? The inevitable mention of tea-bagging and even more inevitable descent to extreme violence? Just because you can tackle “Toy Story 3” like it’s a second-rate “Team America: World Police” doesn’t mean you should. Though I know once someone comes up with brilliance like “stiff sausages and sexy tacos,” they couldn’t possibly just leave it on the bar napkin where the idea belongs.
C-.
