Monkey Business

As a working writer-filmmaker-journo with a soft spot for underdogs, I’m rooting for these guys:

Last week, the New York Times reported that 43 rhesus macaques had escaped from the Alpha Genesis research facility in Yemassee, South Carolina.

Monkeys?—check. Research facility?—check. Escape plot?—check. Holy shit, this is about to become my favorite Pixar movie. It’s The Secret of NIMH meets The Great Escape—with primates.

I submit that every screenwriter with a Times subscription has their head out the window and is yelling, “Hey, Hollywood, I’ve got your four-quadrant, high-concept summer blockbuster riiight heeere.”

Not one for hot takes, particularly a week after the fact, I must admit the idea of escaped research monkeys has captured my imagination (and is now ransoming it).

Lest I lose a month of precious writing time spec’ing a monkey script because I’m a slave to my muse (I’ve already got a “dog exorcist” script in a virtual drawer — thank you, Trane DeVore), permit me to memorialize (and then hopefully forget) the following sketch:

The Great Ape-scape

Logline: Galvanized by Milo, a scrappy circus chimp who has recently arrived at a government research facility, a rag-tag group of monkeys plots their great escape.

Milo is good at clowning and not much else. When his goofing off finds him missing the circus caravan out of town, he’s picked up by animal services and deposited to the only facility capable of caring for him — a shady government research facility. Oh no! Milo futilely attempts to escape and soon realizes he can’t do it alone. He goads the other monkey inmates to join, to no avail. His indomitable spirit, however, sparks hope in Lulu, a bonobo who is conversant in sign language thanks to her time in an ill-fated language program.

Milo openly daydreams about a place he once overheard some circus attendees talking about —Monkey Island, where monkeys roam free. The older monkeys dismiss it as an old myth, but Lulu believes him.

Aided by Lulu’s campaigning, together, the two young monkeys rally the older inmates — Reg, a seen-it-all Proboscis monkey in permanent lipstick and mascara thanks to a past as a cosmetics test subject; Harry, a gruff showbiz orangutan who conflates himself with his former human action star; and Gandalf, a silent, grey old chimp who’s said to have been pumped full of psychedelics as part of a government psychic research project. A dozen other monkeys also share the inhospitable compound but have resigned to their fate — eventual termination.

Meanwhile, an affable, single human dad joins the research team and discusses his misgivings about the primate program with his superiors. He’s rebuffed. Especially by Dr. Ashe (yes, her), the evil head of the research program and our Cruella Deville-esque villain.

Later, due to a childcare snafu, Seth, let’s call him, brings his young, deaf daughter to work. Lulu spots them signing, and from her cage, she signs, “Help us!” The girl tells her father, and though he’s learned to sign, he hasn’t learned to listen to her.

Fast forward to the escape plan, which the monkeys organize like a heist. When it’s time to make a break, comic hijinks ensue (think Curious George meets A Night at the Museum), but in the melee, old Gandalf, sadly, is left behind. The remaining troupe makes it out and hides in Dad’s SUV. He unwittingly takes them home.

Straight out of the E.T. playbook, the monkeys connect with the daughter — let’s call her Quinn. So, now we’re in the Second Act. Dr. Ashe is furious and determined to find those damn monkeys! If what’s happening at the facility got out, it would ruin her and everyone like her (insert obsequious hench-person here).

Meanwhile, Quinn tries to explain the monkey situation to her father. Again, he doesn’t listen. So, she collects clothes from her mother’s closet (she died last year, and Seth hasn’t the emotional bandwidth to empty it) and dresses the monkeys up in a people-ish manner (the women’s clothes spark something in Reg) to sneak them out.

Lulu and Quinn communicate. The plan: Quinn will help the monkeys through the city and to Monkey Island tomorrow. Lulu regrets that the troupe left the other monkeys behind. Knowing their fate, she doesn’t want to lose them. Quinn relates, having lost someone herself. But the moment is left unresolved—it’s bedtime.

The next day, Quinn ditches school and thus begins a madcap Ferris Bueller’s Day Off sequence of escapades, near misses, and cathartic moments through the city as she, Milo, Lulu, Reg, and Harry make their way to the promised land (cue the comic hot dog stand, department store shenanigans, an issue with a fire hydrant, etc.)At one point, a cynical taxi regards his ragtag passengers in ill-fitting athleisure outfits and harumphs, “Tourists.”

Meanwhile, Dr. Ashe tracks the monkeys via the chip(s) implanted in one or more of them. Moreover, Seth gets a call from the school that Quinn isn’t there and frantically begins to look for her. He calls her phone (they usually sign to each other via Facetime), but she doesn’t answer. She won’t listen to him if he won’t listen to her.

As the troupe nears Monkey Island (and the Third Act), they realize they’re being pursued by Dr. Ashe and her retinue of gnarly gamekeeper types. A few near-captures later, they find themselves at a crossroads. Their misgivings about leaving the other monkeys behind resurface as they approach something akin to this famous image from Dorset, England, often captioned, “What could possibly go wrong?”

Our monkey gang faces a dilemma: Should they go safely to Monkey Island or return and save the others?

We slowly push in on Milo’s pensive face. For once, the cheeky monkey is at a loss.

CUT TO:

Harry, the gruff showbiz orangutan — goggles on, a cigarillo dangling from his lip — pops out of the hatch of a rumbling tank, finally, truly an action star. He declares, “Gorilla warfare!” (I mean, shit, what else?) The troupe hightails it back to the research facility. There, they are met by Dr. Ashe and what amounts to the National Guard, not to mention the legion of police officers looking for Quinn… And her dad.

The monkeys have a tank, but they’re outgunned. Dr. Ashe is about to give the order to eradicate them when suddenly she’s thrust into the air—suspended, weightless, and dangerously high above the throng of gawking military personnel. How is this happening?!

The wincing monkeys turn to see Gandalf, his eyes closed, his wizened paw raised — it turns out he has telekinetic powers after all.

This is the moment—Milo yells, “Fire!” and Harry uses the tank to blow a hole in the facility wall. Their monkey brethren pour out. Gandalf goes full-on Carrie with his powers and wreaks holy havoc on evil Dr. Ashe and company.

Father and daughter are tearfully reunited. Milo gives a rousing speech that incorporates the movie’s broader themes and message. Lulu translates it to Quinn, who relays it to her father, and he repeats it out loud. Everyone learns something.

Coda: Monkey Island is a primate utopia — Milo and Lulu are together. She signs to a group of monkeys, “Apes together strong,” which they repeat in unison. Shit’s about to get real. Roll credits.

And now, back to humanity. — DH