Starring: Ed Norton, Seth Rogan, Kristen Wiig, Nick Kroll
Director: Greg Tiernan, Conrad Vernon
Somewhere in the world there is a man. A busy man. A man who wants to take his kid out to the cinema this weekend to make up for all the time he spends at the office. He will take a look at the cinema times, see a picture of a jovial animated sausage, smile and book front row seats for the early showing on Saturday. That man’s life will be eternally changed within the first five seconds of Sausage Party. For it is approximately five seconds before you witness the first animated sausage leisurely uttering ‘Fuck me, man’.
Our shopping items live for the day their Gods (us lot) choose them. They perceive it as a religious epiphany, a transition from the mortal world to the heavens. Joyously spending their days in packaging on shelves desperate for opening time, they sing hymns to the glory of shoppers and savour the chance to be chosen. There are rumours that the world outside of the store is not the paradise they all believe; a heavily scarred jar of Honey Mustard returned from the heavens tells of unspeakable events, but the unwavering trust in the Gods turn this into a simple test of faith.
One particular sausage, our hero Frank (Rogan), is more excited than most. His true love Brenda (Wiig), the most suggestive hot dog bap ever put to screen, is waiting to move to the heavens with him, to be united without the constraints of packaging, to spend eternity in each other’s arms.
Finally, they are selected but fall from the trolley in a scene ripped straight from Saving Private Ryan; a fantastic moment of warzone terror; Oreo’s missing sides, tins spilling spaghetti from their stomach, all filmed in slow motion through a fog of spilt bread flour. In the aftermath Frank and Brenda attempt to make their way home while the rest of the items elatedly continue their journey to the heavens, before rapidly finding out what their Gods actually have store for them in their kitchens.
There are some underlying messages about the ridiculous nature of humanity, social intolerance and how religion curves reality to fit its own vision of existence, but it’s all just sugar coating. Where Sausage Party excels is in its unapologetic filth, funniness and ingenious references; the Mexican sauces hanging out in illegal bars, the non-perishables known as immortals, a Turkish lavash awaiting his 72 virgin olive-oils in heaven, the tube of sauerkraut sauce fascist leader who systematically exterminates ‘the juice’ (yep, this is the level we’re talking here). It’s a never-ending barrage of offensive genius nonsense. There’s even a bottle of coke and a packet of mentos who team up as a suicide bomb for the good of the many.
As an intelligent adult you may occasionally feel like you shouldn’t be laughing at any of this, but it is almost impossible not to. When Brenda and Frank have an argument she threatens to date an aubergine; ‘you’d be amazed what I could fit in here, mister’. It’s clear how much fun the writers had making this film and it oozes out of every second, not a single scene left wanting for one liners. It’s entirely possible to think watching cartoon food swearing for ninety minutes would become monotonous, yet somehow it doesn’t.
If you find watching a lesbian sex scene between a bread roll and a taco distressing or a graphic four-way bisexual orgy consisting of a bagel, a sausage, a middle eastern wrap and a hot dog bun upsetting then perhaps this movie is not for you. If you’re willing to leave your sexual and social morals at the popcorn counter and are happy to accept some awkward squirming in your seat towards the end, then Sausage Party will be an absolute blast. It is a wonderful homage, and it really is made as a homage, to animated movies everywhere, just leave the kids at home. Please.
8 / 10