Are the Minions the least likely subjects for a children’s film ever? Somehow, they are cute, despite the fact they’re essentially yellow capsules wearing goggles. They don’t speak English, rather a kind of chirpy, manic gibberish composed of several different languages (including English). Most importantly, they’re the bad guys. Their goal in life is to find the baddest of the bad and to serve them.
And yet, somehow, improbably, they work—partly because the baddies they serve are rarely that bad (mostly just misunderstood) and partly because they go about their task of serving evil with a combination of childlike glee and unflagging loyalty that makes them downright loveable.
Minions proved to be the delightful secret sauce in the Despicable Me series, but can they be the main course? Well…sort of.
Minions, which is directed by Kyle Balda and Pierre Coffin (who also voices all the Minions) starts out wonderfully, showing us the Minions through the ages—first serving dinosaurs, then a burly cave man, then Count Dracula, then Napoleon. But despite their pesky eagerness to serve, they have a nasty habit of killing their masters (in my fave, they greet Dracula with a cake on his birthday and open the blinds to cheer him up, at which point he turns to dust. Shrugging, one Minion blows out the candle, sending the count scattering). They eventually take refuge in a cave and are able to build a little community of their own, but without an evil master to serve, they grow depressed, listless. One brave Minion named Kevin decides to venture out in search of a worthy villain, accompanied by the guitar-toting Stuart and the diminutive—even by Minion standards—Bob. They end up in New York City, then hitchhike to a Villains Convention in Orlando (they catch a ride with a cheerful all-American family in a station wagon—with a twist). It’s in Orlando they meet uber-villain Scarlett Overkill (Sandra Bullock), who takes them on as her henchmen and brings them home to swinging London, where they’re tasked with stealing the queen’s crown. Despite Jon Hamm’s particularly winning efforts as Scarlett’s groovy husband, Herb Overkill, it’s from there that the film begins to flag a bit, as the filmmakers seem to run out of ideas and rely on British classic rock whenever there’s a lull. (Yes, “Mellow Yellow” does eventually make its inevitable appearance.)
Still there’s a lot to like about Minions, which is filled with wonderful bits of physical comedy, mostly involving the Minion’s unusual shape (if you try to hang a Minion, they will slide through the noose, drop on the floor, and happily say, “Again!”), their gonzo love of bananas, and their childlike cluelessness (Scarlett tells a threatening “bedtime story” that leaves Stuart and Kevin shivering and Bob snoring in a blissed-out reverie).
Much as I enjoyed Minions, I found myself actively dreading a sequel even as I watched it (and pitying poor parents who will be stuck with it on permanent repeat). Against all odds, this one turned out pretty well, guys. Now quit while you’re ahead.