Hollywood. Golden Age. Lights, glamour, and a brand-new tribe of ancestral minions who have absolutely no business being here, and yet here they are.

They don't come looking for fame. Fame finds them the way it tends to find people who crash film sets and refuse to leave. Before they know it, the Minions are bona-fide movie stars. Lavish parties, a sprawling mansion, and an army of devoted fans turning up everywhere in overalls and goggles. Hollywood has a new obsession, and it is exactly as chaotic as it sounds. For one brief, genuinely ridiculous stretch, the Minions are Hollywood.

Then cinema learns to talk. Sound arrives, and with it a problem nobody anticipated. Studios aren't interested in subtitles for Minionese. Careers evaporate overnight, and the dream ends the way most Hollywood dreams end, faster than it started and with considerably less ceremony.
James and Henry are not ready to accept that. Tracking down Goomi, a former villainous overlord they once served, the pair use his spellbook to summon fearsome monsters to star in their very own film. For a moment it works beautifully. Then the monsters stop cooperating entirely. Their monstrous creation Irene, a terrifying mass covered in eyes, destroys the studio and begins consuming everything in her path, threatening the entire planet.

Saving civilisation was not in the original budget.