Dress: Modcloth
Blouse: Kohl's
Shoes: Charles Albert, Alloy
Bag: Xhilaration, Target
Sunglasses: Michaels
Merry Cherry Necklace
Tee: Marshalls
Shorts: ELLE, Kohl's
Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's
Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's
Dress: Modcloth
Top: XOXO, Macy's
Belt: Marshalls
Shoes: Not Rated, DSW
Bag: Eleven Peacocks, Etsy
Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's
Dandy Candy Bag
Sailor's Sweetheart Necklace
Tee: Merona, Target
Shorts: ELLE, Kohl's
Shoes: Ami Clubwear
Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's
Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's
Ah, the carnival. That bastion of horror and glamour catered by corn dogs and deep-fried everything. I was inspired by its strange, seedy splendor when I made this week's stuff, buoyed up by some leftover summer snack wagon (for this was no hallowed hipster food truck) photos. My favorites are the two bags, castoffs from my closet that I prettied up with paint and rhinestones. The Carnival Candy one reminds me of the Gravitron because its rows of rhinestones look like the Grav's lights against the stark white of that flying saucer-like vessel. (Not that I'd ever ride such a beast, the Tilt-a-Whirl being far more my speed.) To really seal in those carnival juices, this bag and its pastel twin also each sport an explosion of -- Flash Charms! Yes, it's Flash Charms, Flash Charms, and more Flash Charms, now enough to open a shop up on Ebay. But enough about that; time to get to the meat of the matter.
Last week, I referenced the classic and dignified novels of Agatha Christie. This week . . . I'm going to talk about Sausage Party. An animated raunch-fest from the minds of Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, it's about what happens when anthropomorphic supermarket items discover their fate when someone buys them -- which is to say, that instead of going to paradise as they've been told, they get eaten. As premises go, it's kind of a jarring one, so much so that I was thankful not to be chomping on popcorn or Junior Mints at the time. Luckily, the voice-over cast is entertaining and helps to take the edge off. It includes Jonah Hill, James Franco, Micheal Cera, Bill Hader, Danny McBride, Craig Robertson, Paul Rudd, and . . . Ed Norton? What's he doing slumming it here? Apparently, playing the Hulk back in 2008 was his gateway drug to more lowbrow fare. Also puzzling, Selma Hayek.
No, this ain't no Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, a title, incidentally, I find much more offensive than Sausage Party, what with its balls of sauce-covered meat falling out of the sky and ruining everyone's outfits. This one's not for the kiddies, a message my local theater sought to drive home with hand-written signs just in case the movie poster of a hot dog grinning under the words "a hero will rise" didn't send the message. That having been said, there's a good, old-fashioned boy-meets-girl story sandwiched somewhere deep in here. Seth Rogen and Kristen Wiig reprise their roles as star-crossed lovers in yet another bizarre what's-the-meaning-of-life-anyway movie (I refer, of course, to Paul, which was headlined by an extraterrestrial instead of foul-mouthed food). Rogen is Frank, the aforementioned hot dog, and Wiig is Brenda -- what else? -- a hot dog bun. Now, this movie is weird. Like, weirder than Vanilla Sky weird, and that starred Tom Cruise. For one thing, it employs a strange juxtaposition of cute and grotesque imagery. Like Garbage Pail kids or Inside Out Boy from "PeeWee's Playhouse" -- only X-rated. Also, you know how we all sometimes wonder if aliens will take over the world and eat us? Well, this is like that, only with cartoons and cursing.
As ever, a high point for me was Michael Cera. (Sorry Paul Rudd, but your mean geek grocery store cashier just didn't do it for me.) Ever the self-deprecating beta in a crowd of crude alphas, he plays Barry, the runty and misshapen hot dog who -- spoiler alert -- not only defies death, but gets the girl -- or, in this case, the smushed hot dog bun.
Gross-outs and nihilistic worldview aside, it cannot be denied that Sausage Party asks some of life's most probing questions: What happens when we die? Is anarchy ever the answer? Will my Twinkies ever talk to me? And, of course, is Sausage Party a trenchant social satire or just the by-product of a hallucinogenic spree?
The movie plays at answering this by sending Frank and friends through a magic portal at the end, making us think, wait, maybe there is something out there after all. Then, before we can start reading too much into it, Frank cheerfully reminds us, hey, it's just a cartoon!
I've heard they say the same about SpongeBob.