Everyone has been gabbing about Jerry Seinfeld’s lackluster new Netflix comedy Unfrosted—which has hit the top of Netflix’s most popular movies—particularly one scene in which Mad Men’s Don Draper (Jon Hamm) rises from the dead. But perhaps we’ve lost sight of the scene we should actually be talking about when it comes to this dull comedy: the moment in which Hugh Grant stages a cereal-based scene of the Jan. 6 Capitol riots.
(Warning: Spoilers for Unfrosted ahead.)
The moment comes right after we see Don and Roger Sterling (John Slattery) developing an ad campaign—who want to name the Pop-Tart the “Jelle Jolie” and market it as a sexy breakfast—which is just so jarring to watch, one after the other. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to watch flirtatious Don saunter around an ad sales office, then, immediately after, Tony the Tiger in full MAGA gear? Oh, you weren’t curious about that? Too bad. Now you can experience this total comedic whiplash.
A few minutes after leaving the Sterling Cooper office, Unfrosted takes us to the front lines of the U.S. Capitol. Alright, no, it’s not D.C. We’re actually in Michigan at the Kellogg’s headquarters in 1963, where all of the cereal mascots are waving flags, pitchforks, and threatening posters around to signal their distrust in the breakfast brand’s governing.
Thurl Ravenscroft (Grant), a Shakespearean actor who has been hired to play the Tony the Tiger mascot in commercials, is leading the charge. All of the cereal mascots—from Snap (Kyle Mooney), Crackle (Mikey Day), and Pop (Drew Tarver) to Toucan Sam (Cedric Yarbrough)—are ready to storm Kellogg’s HQ. They’re upset that the Pop-Tart has taken over, replacing cereal as the healthiest, most popular form of breakfast. For what it’s worth, local milkmen are also trying to assassinate Kellogg’s employee Bob Cabana (Seinfeld), upset that the Pop-Tart requires no milk, unlike cereal.
The world is in a real tizzy over this new invention.
In the scene, Thurl sports the same viking horns that are seen in an infamous Jan. 6 photo—this time, though, the cap is adorned with tiger fuzz. “Cereal mascots and mascot patriots from across the land,” Thurl shouts to a fiery crowd. “Gather ye, gather ye, one and all.”
This looks less like a riot and more like an angry furry convention. I digress; as the Kellogg’s execs ready the Pop-Tart to be released nationwide, the mascots break into the front doors of HQ and storm the offices.
A German exec who declines to share where he was in the 1940s—hint, hint—even shares this remark: “I’ve seen angry mobs gather like this before. Where was I?”
These cereal mobsters will not go gentle into the night. They’re throwing smoke bombs, scaling the walls, even crapping in the middle of Kellogg’s HQ. “Snap, Crackle, Pop? Our mission here is to stop the certification,” Thurl shouts to the Rice Krispies boys. The comparison was already pretty clear, but Unfrosted feels the need to bang us over the head with what’s going on here: They’re poking fun of Jan. 6. Get it?
(Although Unfrosted hasn’t been advertised as a true story, I feel the need to repeat that this was not how Pop-Tarts were created. Just to be clear: There was never a Jan. 6-like riot on Kellogg’s HQ. Before you went to Google to dig up old news reports.)
There’s a smart way to satirize the events of Jan. 6, 2021. Succession brilliantly dramatized the “Stop the steal!” aspect of the riots. This, however, was not it. Seinfeld’s humor falls flat, because he’s essentially comparing labor movements (since the mistreated mascots seem to be unionizing, kind of?) to QAnon. Somewhat offensive and deeply unfunny—unless Tony the Tiger in viking horns is super-hilarious, and I’m just a killjoy—this scene was simply unnecessary.
And it’s not that there’s a “too soon” feeling about this, either. After more than three years, Unfrosted could definitely have taken notes from other parodies, recreating what happened in a way that doesn’t feel so eyebrow-raising. But, as Seinfeld recently suggested, comedy movies are dead—and while that may or may not be true, we know at least one grave has opened up for Seinfeld’s stale sense of humor alone.
