Every once in a while, Hollywood gets high on its own supply and makes a love letter to moviemaking. It happened recently with Steven Spielberg’s “The Fabelmans” and George Clooney’s “Jay Kelly.” Now it’s time for the unlikeliest of love-letter writers: canary-yellow, gibberish-speaking, overall-wearing mini-monsters.
“Minions & Monsters” — the third chapter in the ongoing standalone adventures of the “Despicable Me” pint-sized enablers — is about the sheer greatness of moviemaking, and it’s a navel-gazing misfire. Few industries — maybe journalism, sure — is as enamored at making its profession seem heroic.
The Minions this time find themselves at the dawn of both the movie business in Hollywood and the last push by suffragists to get the vote. It’s a weird confluence that writers Brian Lynch and Pierre Coffin fumble.
The movie has playful references to old screen gods — Harold Lloyd dangling from the hands of a clock and
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