’s eye-popping zaniness but its virtuous speechifying set your teeth on edge, have I got a sugary treat for you. And by “sugary,” I mean empty calories, not saccharine sentimentality.
A couple of dumpster-diving kids have clued in exec Bob to Post’s advances on that front. In an evil-looking edifice across the street, the turbaned and ruthless Marjorie Post and her relentlessly abused right-hand man are ready to launch their new product, though whether they’ll call it Dextrose Dillies or Fresh Flatties has yet to be decided.
At the helm of a cast filled with virtuosos of comic timing, Seinfeld draws performances that are, for the most part, understated, effectively heightening the ridiculousness of the setup by playing it straight. The cavalcade of cameos climaxes with a supremely apt and satisfying surprise, and along the way there are meetings with JFK , Khruschev and the boss of Big Sugar .
Best of all, there’s not a drop of corporate mythologizing in the mishmash of factoid and fantasy. Seinfeld’s love of packaged breakfast foods might color this movie’s world, but far from an ode to product integrity posing as thoughtful and irreverent,tosses off Pop-Tart putdowns as fast as you can toast ’em. Nothing is sacred here. I could have lived without the Gus Grissom jokes, but it’s refreshing to see the perpetually valorized Walter Cronkite as something of a pathetic buffoon.