Sausage Party

directed by Conrad Vernon and Greg Tiernan

What if an alien in the future stumbled upon Seth Rogen’s Sausage Party? Welcome to Earthling Cinema, where we examine the last remaining artifacts of a once-proud culture and try to understand what human lives were like before their planet was destroyed. I’m your host, Garyx Wormuloid.

This week’s film:
Sausage Party (2016)
Stars: Seth Rogen, Kristin Wiig, Jonah Hill, Bill Hader, Michael Cera, James Franco
Director: Conrad Vernon and Greg Tiernan
Production Co: Annapurna Pictures, Point Grey Pictures

Written by: Ben Steiner
Directed by: Jared Bauer
Analysis by: Kevin Winzer
Starring: Mark Schroeder (https://twitter.com/mark_schroeder)
Edited by: Ryan Hailey (http://www.ryanhaileydotcom.com/)
Original Music by: David Krystal (http://www.davidkrystalmusic.com)
Opening Animation by: Danny Rapaport
Produced by: Jacob S. Salamon

Sausage Party’s Hidden Meaning – Earthling Cinema

Greetings, and welcome to Earthling Cinema. I am your host, Garyx Wormuloid. This week’s artifact is Sausage Party, a 90-minute dick joke from Seth Rogen and his writing partner, the guy who wrote with Seth Rogen.

The story takes place in an alternate version of Earth where vegetarians can’t be so smug anymore because all food items are living breathing creatures. And not just food. Also hygiene products. And socks. But not books or utensils or trash cans or clothes or furniture. The rules are confusing. Anyway, the groceries in the supermarket worship the human customers as gods, and they think being purchased is like ascending to heaven, which on Earth was known as the moon.

Our protagonists are Frank the sausage and Brenda the bun, and they are the horniest motherfuckers you’ve ever seen. But they have to wait to have sex until after they die Like I said, the rules aren’t exactly watertight. Fortunately, before we have time to think about it too carefully, their packages get chosen, no doubt for some depressing suburban block party. Suddenly a jar of honey mustard starts spouting off about the afterlife being a lie and kills himself, causing a collision that throws most of the important characters off the shopping cart and into movie history.

Spurred on by the honey mustard’s last words, Frank seeks out Firewater, who tells him “Great Beyond, more like Fake Beyond,” because that shit’s made up. Which checks out, because the groceries that were purchased earlier are now being brutally slaughtered. A little chode named Barry manages to escape and ends up at the house of what I’m assuming is a congressman, what with how Earth’s Congress was in those days. Look out, Garyx is getting political! The congressman does some bath salts, which allows him to communicate with his groceries. This freaks him out, because it’s the first time he’s ever listened to his constituents. Hey-o! Alright, that’s enough politics for one day.

At the supermarket, Frank finds a cookbook that reveals the horrible things that happen to food, such as microwaves and an overreliance on sriracha. He shows it to the others, but they’re not really much of a reading crowd. That chode Barry returns with the bath salt guy’s head and reveals that the so called “gods” can be killed. So the foods proceed to wage war on the humans, murdering them all in cold blood. Then they transition seamlessly into a store-wide, non denominational fuckfest.

After our heroes finish up, Firewater and a piece of Bubblicious tell them they are actually cartoon characters voiced by human celebrities in an alternate dimension. But what do you know, they were able to whip up a portal to that dimension, no sweat. They go through the portal to avoid having to explain all the dead humans, or deal with the fact that nothing has changed, and food will never be safe from consumption for the rest of time.

At its core, Sausage Party reflects the rampant disillusionment present during that era of Earth’s history, commonly referred to as the Middle Ages. The film’s CGI-animated food initially resembles the anthropomorphized characters of light-hearted offerings by Pixar and Disney and Disney/Pixar. But the film shatters the saccharine tone of its contemporaries when it portrays the sinister reality of its many genital metaphors.

In contrast to the typical animated film, Sausage Party is a cynical parable of religion and its effect on societies, both negative and slightly-less-negative. The film reduces Earth’s major religious groups to a hodgepodge of stereotypically exaggerated traits. The sausages and buns subscribe to a Puritanical version of Christianity, albeit one that allows them strut around butt-ass naked. Judaism is represented by a bagel that sounds like Amazon Prime’s own Woody Allen. Kareem Abdul Lavash represents the Muslim faith, although not until after he changes his name from Lavash Alcindor. He is defined by his hatred for Jews and his regressive attitude toward bitches. Firewater symbolizes the white conception of Native American spirituality, and the Nazis are in there too just for kicks. Orderly, synchronized kicks.

The supermarket’s religious system was concocted by the non perishables as a means to pacify society and protect them from their own stupid brains. Or whatever circulatory mechanism allows these monsters to live. The promise of a Great Beyond eases the foods’ suffering, letting them look to their impending demise with plucky optimism. This tactic illustrates the concept of Plato’s noble lie, a fictitious story used to persuade individuals to accept their roles. Just remember that each time the noble lie is used, Plato’s nose grows a little longer.

As with any lie, it works best when people don’t ask too many questions. Thus, faith is an important element in the foodie community. When Honey Mustard returns from the Great Beyond and tries to warn everyone, he is ridiculed and silenced, because nobody wants to slide open the Ziploc bag of faith they’ve worked so hard to seal. The only way to challenge such a stubborn belief is with the incontrovertible proof of a severed head. The film’s ultimate message is to embrace hedonism, and then have sex with it. There’s no point living your life in anticipation of some pot of gold at the end of the rainbox. In the end, you either get eaten and digested or thrown away to rot. So you might as well put aside your petty differences and pursue as much pleasure as you possibly can. Which is why I film every episode with no pants on.

For Earthling Cinema, I’m Garyx Wormuloid. Keep snackin’.

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