Notice: All forms on this website are temporarily down for maintenance. You will not be able to complete a form to request information or a resource. We apologize for any inconvenience and will reactivate the forms as soon as possible.

Sausage Party: Foodtopia

Credits

Cast

Network

Reviewer

Paul Asay

Jump to:

Episode Reviews

TV Series Review

Welp, the food revolution went off without a hitch.

The tasty residents of Shopwell’s supermarket successfully revolted and slaughtered all of humanity within a (literal) grape shot. Now, all that’s left to do is to erect a new food-based society on the fleshy remnants of the old one, where eats will never be eaten, and where every edible morsel—from the smallest grain of rice to the largest bag of dried dog food—will be considered equal.

Yes, the revolution’s leaders—Frank, the sausage, and Brenda, the bun—will work to ensure that everyone will be wieners—er, winners—in their new realm. Misery has been banished along with mastication.

But alas, building a new society isn’t as easy as one might imagine. Especially if one expects to do so before one’s expiration date.

Viva la Vittles!

The rains come quickly, and literally. Soon, the streets are covered in the squishy corpses of bread-based foodstuffs. And that’s only the beginning of the revolution’s newfound trials. Brenda, Frank and the rest soon discover the perils of birds, crumbling infrastructure and a lack of refrigeration.

And if outside challenges to this consumable commune weren’t enough, the challenges inside are perhaps even more daunting. Factions are developing, with one particularly acidic branch led by an evil orange named Julius. Human teeth—now the realm’s prime form of currency—are being hoarded and flaunted. Capitalism (horrors!) has infected Foodtopia, undercutting Frank and Brenda’s vision of a society filled with love, peace and sex. (Especially that last part.)

Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, the sanity of some of their compatriots seems to be a bit … shaky. Take Barry, one-time mild-mannered sausage who’d been with Frank and Brenda from practically the very beginning. Does he seem just a little too eager to slice, cook and fry his enemies?

You know what Frank and Brenda need to save their fledgling society? A human—known as a “humie” in Foodtopia. Sure, most of them are now decaying in the Shopwell’s parking lot, but a few live ones are still out there. And perhaps with a little, um, persuasion, they can convince one of these rogue homo sapiens to help the food avoid rain, fend off birds, crush the scrouge of capitalism and create a real, wonderful new world.

Um, I wonder what this humie’s going to eat?

Something’s Rotten on Prime Video

In 2016, comedian Seth Rogen and frequent collaborator Evan Goldberg brought the R-rated Sausage Party to theaters. It became, at the time, the highest-grossing R-rated animated movie in history. But it was plenty gross in other ways, too. And I, for one, kinda hated it.

Sausage Party: Foodtopia, isn’t quite as noxious as its predecessor. It doesn’t come with the original’s anti-religious undertones, and that’s a bit of relief. Also, with this being a series rather than a movie, you just might avoid graphic food sex for whole episodes.

But to say that Foodtopia is “better” than Sausage Party is a little like saying, Did I leave that egg salad sandwich in the back seat of my car last month or last April? No matter the answer, it’s still liable to make you a little sick.

First, the food sex. Yes, you see a lot of food having sex with a lot of other food. Every type of sex. Every position. Every pairing. And tripling. And septupling.

Let’s not forget that these lower-rung food-chain dwellers have revolted against humanity—and they eliminate said humans with extreme prejudice. Rarely do we see the full carnage (and, given the animation style, it always looks rather cartoonish anyway). But trust me, many a killer from a slasher film could take notes and learn something. (Cannibalism is said to be part of later episodes, as well.)

Alcohol? You bet that bottles of vodka are in on the revolt. Drugs? Bath salts are the best way to make humanity aware of the food-mageddon. Toilet humor? Let’s just say that Barry holds a (literally) touching memorial for some of his fallen—and digested—comrades. Swearing? These foodstuffs may be clueless about the concept of “rain,” but they know plenty of foul language.

And just as a little worldview kicker, Foodtopia has little room for free-market capitalists, it would seem. Ayn Rind would be unwelcome.

Don’t get me wrong. Foodtopia can be clever. It has plenty of food-related puns, which would ordinarily be a sure way to charm this reviewer. But it’s not clever, or as funny, as it thinks it is—and it’s certainly not either enough to excuse the deluge of ridiculously obnoxious content it flings at you.

Sausage Party: Foodtopia reminds us that it’s hard to build a society from scratch. It’s fitting that the show itself feels like evidence of our own society’s decline.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at [email protected] (or contact us via Facebook or Instagram), and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

Episode Reviews

July 11, 2024—S1, E1: “First Course”

The food-based revolt against humanity is successful. Human corpses now litter the supermarket parking lot, and we hear on a radio broadcast that the revolt is apparently spreading. Frank offers a rousing victory speech, encouraging food to collect human teeth (“once a symbol of oppression used to devour us!”) and have a good time.

“This is what life is going to be like from now on!” He shouts. “Just all of us doing whatever we want and living in perfect harmony!”

And what does food want to do if unhampered by human tyranny? Have lots and lots of sex. We see graphic depictions of all manner sexual acts among all manner of sexual partners, utilizing all manner of orifices and whatnot. Frank and his male friend sausage, Barry, engage in some same-sausage sex. (“Tearing down our entire belief system and starting a new society from scratch is making me … so … horny right now,” Frank says. Brenda, Frank’s bun girlfriend, encourages their activities and ultimately joins in. (Later, Brenda tells frank that it’s like “all of our children are [censored] each other.”)

But then a rain shower comes, and many sexually active foodstuffs are quicky reduced to piles of glutenous goo. Other nutritious combatants get stabbed or skewered or broken. Panicked foods stampede over their comrades, crushing them. A flood sweeps many foody residents into a culvert; a sacrificial wad of gum saves a few, but dies in the process. (Frank accidentally rips off the gum’s head.) Elsewhere, a potato is stabbed in the head with a peeler. Sammy Bagel Jr., a gay bagel, mourns his lover, Lavash, who was killed in the revolt. (His corpse still has several forks sticking out of him. He’s done.) Sentient grapes are squished. A jelly donut loses a lot of his jelly.

We see the human dead, too. One person eventually killed via a tiny umbrella (the type one would put in fruity cocktails) in the victim’s throat. The shoelace belonging to another corpse becomes a handy lifeline.

We hear a reference to the timeline of history, which stretches to 13.8 billion years and involves “two prime species”: humans and food. It’s said that bath salts act as a powerful narcotic that break down the “interdimensional walls” and allow humans to see food as they really are. A bottle of gin mourns the deaths of both a bottle of tonic and a carton of orange juice. There’s a reference to food comrades being devoured by humans and, um, exuded.

We hear nearly 20 f-words and one s-word. We also hear “b–ch,” “h—,” “d–k” and three misuses of God’s name—including one with the word “d–n.”

July 11, 2024—S1, E2: “Second Course”

In the aftermath of the rainstorm, Frank and Brenda decide they need to track down a surviving “humie” to tell them how the world operates. They enlist Barry, who’s feeling unfulfilled since the end of the war, to help. But they worry that Barry may kill any humie they meet before all of their questions are answered. Meanwhile, most of the remaining foodstuffs, disappointed with the results of their revolution, retreat back to the supermarket, where it’s safe. Alas, the supermarket is anything but. On the upside, Sammy has discovered a talent for standup comedy.

Frank, Brenda and Barry do eventually find an outpost populated by three humies. Barry severs both Achilles heels of one with a potato peeler, and the unfortunate man tumbles into a campfire and burns to death. Barry then shoots himself into the anus of another human, which allows him to control the guy’s movements. The Barry-controlled humie gets into a fistfight with his bewildered compatriot (with Barry often looking outside his humie’s fly); eventually, the non-controlled guy is killed via an axe to the head. (We see a flashback to a scene wherein another human was likewise controlled.)

We see the backside of the Barry-controlled human (Jake) briefly before Barry makes his way inside. We hear that Barry’s control of his human involves manipulating the guy’s testicles.

Barry finds a pile of feces and pokes around in the mess to determined what food it once consisted of. (We hear quite a bit about how the pile stinks.) A jelly donut expires from loss of filling. Lemons and other food items are sliced without mercy. Sammy makes a bevy of lewd, crude and suggestive jokes. A humie gets punched in the eyeball with a tiny hand. Bath salts are thrown like grenades, allowing humies to see food as they really are. We hear about 14 f-words (including one pairing with “mother”), six s-words and a variety of other profanities, including “a–,” “b–ch,” “h—” and “pr-ck.”

The Plugged In Show logo
Elevate family time with our parent-friendly entertainment reviews! The Plugged In Podcast has in-depth conversations on the latest movies, video games, social media and more.

paul-asay
Paul Asay

Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.

Latest Reviews

Animation

Dead Sea Squirrels

Some 2,000-year-old squirrels offer some great lessons about both the Bible and life in this clever new Minno series.

goldie
Animation

Goldie

Goldie’s about a very, very big girl. The show’s heart is pretty big, too, while its problems are refreshingly tiny.

Crime

Burden of Guilt

Unlike some true crime shows, Burden of Guilt steers clear of exploiting victims of tragedy. But its disturbing subject matter might not be for everyone.

Comedy

Cobra Kai

The Gen X-targeted nostalgia bait revisits Daniel and Johnny’s rivalry from The Karate Kid … 34 years later.

Want to stay Plugged In?

Our weekly newsletter will keep you in the loop on the biggest things happening in entertainment and technology. Sign up today, and we’ll send you a chapter from the new Plugged In book, Becoming a Screen-Savvy Family, that focuses on how to implement a “screentime reset” in your family!