The best part of the Despicable Me series has arguably been the minions, the little yellow henchman of the villain Gru who desperately want to help but always seem to hinder instead. When their role was stepped up in Despicable Me 2, it seemed obvious that they were destined to get their own film, and so Minions has finally arrived.
So how do you get a whole movie out of a group of creatures with an extremely limited vocabulary? The honest answer is that you don’t, really, but that doesn’t stop the filmmakers from trying. A prologue shows the minions’ adventures from throughout history, from the time of the dinosaurs to their interacting with historical figures like Napoleon as they search for a proper villain for whom to be henchmen.
The bulk of the film is set in the late 1960s, as three of the minions — Kevin, Stuart and Bob (all voiced by co-director Pierre Coffin) — stumble upon a villain convention at which Scarlett Overkill (Sandra Bullock) is the headliner. When the trio accidentally proves its worth to her, she takes them under her wing so they can help her dastardly plan: stealing the crown jewels from the Queen of England.
There is, of course, a reason that sidekicks are called sidekicks. If you spend too much time with them, their endearing quirks can turn into annoying ones. When it comes to the minions, it’s not so much that their weird noises and oddly multilingual utterances are bothersome; it’s that they become repetitive and thus quickly lose their charm.
The plot of the film is fine, but there’s nothing utterly compelling about it. Other than the minions’ antics, there’s once again a real sense of fun missing from the film. The film’s biggest conflict, the one between the minion trio and Scarlett Overkill, lacks the requisite punch, and so it feels like the story is just going through the motions until the villain gets her comeuppance.
In order to make up for the film’s failings (or to distract from them), the filmmakers have stacked the voice talent with big names. In addition to Bullock, they roped in Jon Hamm as her husband, Michael Keaton and Allison Janney as the heads of a villainous family, Steve Coogan for a couple of minor roles, and Geoffrey Rush as the narrator. As is usually the case, the presence of these stars makes no noticeable difference in the quality of the film one way or the other.
With the box office still being dominated by the stellar Inside Out, which appeals to both kids and adults, it’s difficult not to view Minions as anything more than a lightweight offering. That might be okay some other time, but it just doesn’t cut it now.
The minions are back in Minions and as cute, if unintelligible, as ever.
Photo courtesy of Universal Pictures and Illumination Entertainment
The minions are back in Minions and as cute, if unintelligible, as ever.
Only in Austin does recording in a tin can create excellent sound. Specifically, this "tin can" is a 1955 Spartan Imperial Mansion trailer, a spacious mobile home converted into a relatively cramped studio. But the unconventional setup is no match for producer and engineer James Westley Essary.
Essary and his videographer brother, Brantley, have been using the space to build up their inner circle of musicians, capturing intimate performances in professional recordings available on YouTube. Live From The Tin Can premiered its second season on April 15, 2024, and is looking forward to a long string of diverse performances to come. Right now listeners can enjoy Ron Gallo, David Ramirez, Vondré, John Calvin Abney, Angel White, and more on the YouTube channel.
First up this season was Worn-Tin (an amazing coincidence of a name), performing "Hard Ease," "Bitter," and "Kid Changed," a pleasantly lackadaisical series of alt-rock romps, somehow squeezing in two drum sets. Worn-Tin, like many other artists this season on the YouTube series, performed live at South by Southwest in March. The festival, along with the concurrent Luck Reunion, brought a wealth of artists to the Live Music Capital, so the Tin Can crew took advantage of the easy scheduling.
"South By's website is actually a great way to find out who was coming into town," says Brantley. "So we started thinking about things like, what is what is their sound like? What is their performance like, and will that translate into our space? ... [We] just started contacting managers: 'Hey, do you have a free morning, free afternoon? Want to come by?' The sessions only take about a couple of hours."
Although the Essarys are hoping to get more national acts into the Tin Can to boost views, their hope is that over time they can narrow their focus back to local artists. (The series premiere featured Austin band Kelly Doyle.) Beyond the view counts, these recordings are mutually beneficial; Artists don't just get exposure, but lasting high-quality recordings for free, and the brothers get to build a portfolio. Westley, who just goes by his second name in conversation, appreciates the stylistic challenge.
Producer and engineer James Westley Essary does the auditory impossible.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"I get to create a little calling card, [and] they get a way to push their new record when they're rolling through town and on tour," says Westley. "As you put out records you get pigeonholed ... I want to make a punk record, and I want to make a metal record. I want to make a country record. So it allows me to be able to dabble in whatever I want — whatever we book in the studio."
Making these connections was Westley's main goal in creating the series during the pandemic. It'd been a loose idea at the producer's prior studio, with occasional shoots for social media. As we all remember, 2019 was not famous for its sense of urgency. But when the studio was "sold out from under" Westley in October, he got tired of hopping from one rental to another.
He bought the trailer in December 2019 and spent the following year working on it. The end of his work coincided with Brantley's desire to move back to Austin from Seattle, so the returning brother provided the property to park the trailer on. The rest was good, old-fashioned pandemic restlessness.
The Tin Can in all its metallic glory.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"When you're on the road all the time, you're meeting new bands every day, because you have a different opener or something," says Westley. "And I was like, 'How can I bring that to me?' It's a lot of fun when there's not really any money involved. You're not dedicating a ton of time, necessarily, to it. Bands come here, they have a really great time, [and] it's really nice to be able to host them."
Of course, recording in such a small space has its challenges. Most of the solution was in arranging; not the music, but the musicians. Placing everyone just right minimizes the bleed of certain instruments into other microphones, and as long as the singer stays relatively still, the drums — the biggest culprit — mostly keep their sound to themselves.
Some issues are also fixed with slightly quieter playing, unintentionally creating a sort of sonic brand for the series. It's not all bedroom pop, but the combination of a cozy recording environment and slightly restrained volume makes for some homey performances. This also works nicely for Westley — isn't that happening a lot? — who says he usually prefers listening at home to watching in a crowd.
Still, live recordings add a certain spice to the music. Many music fans will attribute it to the organic mystery of musicians clicking together, but Westley thinks there's something else at play. There's no substitute for practice, and by the time musicians are making live recordings, they've probably played the song live dozens or even hundreds of times. That allows for improvements on the original ideas — sometimes ones that originated in the studio at the time of the first recording.
Ron Gallo squeezes into the Tin Can.Still from Live From The Tin Can
It's also an easy way to make additional income without writing more, he says. Brantley points out that live music has always been at the core of the business.
"Live music has been at the top for forever," says Brantley. "Now we've got artists selling out huge arenas. They're competing with the NFL; They're not competing with movies or TV as much anymore. ... So I love the opportunity to not just record live music, but also film it. You're getting a full experience of both the really compelling live recording [and] even more compelling video to watch them in their element — really playing it live rather than just in a box in the studio."
The next frontier for the Tin Can crew will be hosting live shows onsite. Westley will be in the trailer recording while the band plays outside, and eventually Brantley might start capturing video, too. Also down the pipeline are audio-only live recordings, so listeners can enjoy the tunes without relying on YouTube.
One episode featuring NOBRO from Montreal, Quebec, is out now, with more to come. Next up is Evangeline from Los Angeles. Follow along with Live From The Tin Can ("Like and subscribe," says Brantley with a smile) on YouTube.