Original subtitles

Hello there.

I'm Ryan Reynolds.

Yeah, hmm.

That Ryan Reynolds.

I'm a film actor,

occasionally I dabble in television

and other industries.

I'm also a father.

But I'm ready to move on from all of that crap.

So what's next?

Wildlife, that's what.

Nope, not these blowhards.

They don't need my help.

I'm here for these guys.

Nature's benchwarmers.

I'm talking grade-A freaks

and their freakin' bizarre, weird, freakshow lives.

Get ready for the Underdogs.

♪ I wanna be your underdog ♪

These guys are the grossest, weirdest...

♪ I'm not number one, but I'm second to none ♪

...the most unlikely stars in the great movie of life.

♪ Heroes are overrated when you are the outlaw ♪

Now it's their time to shine.

♪ Cuz I wanna be your underdog ♪

Wherever there is blatant mischief,

wherever there is abject cowardice,

wherever there is unbearable sexual tension...

...that's where you'll find the underdogs.

You tell 'em, Green Day.

♪ I'm not a loser ♪

♪ I'm not a loser ♪

♪ I wanna be your underdog ♪

I'm Ryan Reynolds.

♪ I wanna be your underdog ♪

And I endorse these weirdoes.

Welcome to my home.

It's a busy temple overlooking the Indian Ocean.

And a beautiful setting for an ingenious hustle.

This is me, a long-tailed macaque.

Some say I sound like Ryan Reynolds.

I don't know why. I've never been to Canada.

This is the story of how underdogs like us can get ahead

through slightly underhanded means.

Generalized scheming.

Thievery.

Also, maybe just a little bit of light, uh, racketeering.

Not sure what I mean?

Take it away, guys.

Ah!

They say crime doesn't pay.

Sure does in our case.

The real prize is food,

which we figured out we're given in exchange

for returning the tourists' trashy-ass belongings.

Nice work.

But petty theft, that's just the beginning.

There are underdogs out there

with a whole host of special skills,

and I've got a job in mind that calls for the best of the best.

I'm building a crack team of devious animals,

drawn from all over the world.

Each one a hustler.

Each one a master of their own unique con.

Experts when working alone.

But put 'em all together and I've got the lineup I need

to pull off the perfect heist.

First up, we need someone who knows how to go undercover.

Deep undercover.

But there's no one here.

Or is there?

Oh, you've just been fooled by the hairy frogfish.

His flamboyant frills aren't my idea of subtle,

but down here, they allow him to blend in perfectly

while he goes hunting.

The change of current has just blown his cover.

That's bad news for a guy

who relies on the element of surprise.

But you don't live life as a bottom-feeder

without having a few tricks up your sleeve.

Including walking.

That's not bad for a fish, huh?

But with this guy, I've learned to expect the unexpected.

Now he just has to motor his boat to a new location,

his next big target.

This place looks pretty good.

Plenty of prey in these dark crevices.

Reminds me of that airport bathroom in Minneapolis.

Now, watch the master at work.

A quick disguise change

that takes...

two... whole... weeks.

Two, what, two full business weeks?!

Ooph.

Wow.

Okay, so he's not the most efficient criminal on Earth.

But you give him a mere 336 hours,

and he has transformed from a mid-winter pale

to a late summer dark and deadly.

That's perfect for blending in to his new hunting grounds.

And just like my Internet browser,

incognito mode, baby.

Wow.

Now all he's gotta do is set the bait and reel 'em in.

What's the bait?

Oh, you know, it's a bit of modified fin

that looks like a worm.

It's a little gamey, but, uh, it's also, you know, chewy,

impossible to digest.

Oh, that poor unsuspecting fish.

He will be missed.

Gone, in a few thousandths of a second.

And that was just the appetizer.

There's the main course.

And there's dessert.

And besides a little indigestion,

he's the perfect hidden hitman.

And a must for my lineup.

Sadly, with my international notoriety,

I've no hope of going incognito.

But you do not get the job done with undercover work alone.

We need intel, and lots of it.

Most animals out there

subscribe to the same tired deal we all do.

You work hard, you try your best,

follow the rules, and you'll be rewarded.

Well, we hustlers have a word

for animals who fall for those instructions:

suckers.

Marks.

Targets.

Morons.

These warblers are living the all-American dream.

Teeny, tiny white picket fences,

working day in and day out to put food on the table

so their 2.5 kids can grow big and strong.

And deeply resentful of their parents

and all their hard work.

Yes, those little won't understand it

till they have their own kids.

But one of their little ones is turning out to be

much bigger than the others.

To understand why that is,

we need to rewind the tape a little.

For weeks, these hardworking warblers

have been under surveillance.

By a master of the secret sting operation.

That's right, it's a cowbird.

She's been secretly staking out the nest,

keeping track of the number of eggs as they're laid.

And then, while the warblers go off warbling,

or whatever it is that warblers do all day...

...the cowbird comes by to drop off a very special package.

If she's caught, her plan will be ruined.

But my colleague has an unusual talent,

perfect for an aviary infiltrator.

She can lay an egg in under seven seconds.

Boom.

Special delivery, suckers.

This inexplicably giant extra egg might seem pretty obvious,

but these warblers are dumb as a bag of bricks.

How do you still exist?

Sorry.

To these literal birdbrains, it checks out.

But don't go thinking that this is a one-off, no, no, no, no.

This is just a tiny part of a whole empire of espionage.

Over one season, the cowbird gathers data on multiple nests,

memorizing their locations and monitoring their status.

Ready to hit each nest with an extra egg

when it maximizes her own chick's chances.

And she's got no fancy mainframe computer, mind you.

The most impressive part is all that intel is safely stored

in her high-powered, pistachio-sized brain.

By the end of the season, this feathered little egg dispenser

can have laid up to 50 stealthy eggs in unsuspecting nests.

Now that's a hustle.

The warblers, they never appear to catch on to the reason

that one of their babies is so oversized.

They feed him and raise him along with their own brood.

And by outsourcing the work,

the cowbird produces far more chicks

than she could on her own.

As parenting goes, it's a masterstroke.

And as an example of reconnaissance,

it's just genius.

And the reason that she's the one I trust

to be the eyes and ears of my operation.

So, I have my master of disguise

and surveillance specialist.

But what about when we need equipment?

Well, when it comes to making something out of nothing,

turns out I know just the guy.

I just need to pry him away from the ladies.

Welcome to Wales.

Don't call it England.

Beautiful country, and allegedly a great place

to go into witness protection.

They call my next associate The Spider.

Because he's, well, he's a... he's a spider.

With this one, what you see is rarely what you get.

But charm like this can entangle anyone.

He's out doing what he does best.

Searching for a lady spider willing to mate.

Luckily for him, some females want to be found.

And they leave a trail of silk for him to follow.

Been there.

But if something seems too easy,

it's usually because there's a catch.

Yes, a trail of dead bodies is a bit of a red flag.

This is the female.

She's a man-eater.

Literally.

Eats them.

The last five guys, well, let's just say

they got more than they bargained for.

So our spider friend is gonna need a plan,

and he's thinking the perfect gift might do the trick.

The perfect gift obviously being the corpse of a fly.

But his skills don't extend to web building to catch food.

And catching flies on foot

is really hard work.

He's gotta get creative

and use his special set of skills...

Counterfeiting.

And what could he offer in place of a juicy fly?

Flowers, that's what, my man.

Flowers.

Expertly dressed up in silk to look like the real thing.

Flowers are not as popular in the spider-verse

as they are in the human world,

but as long as she doesn't notice until he's gone,

my old friend might just get away with it.

Understandably, he's a bit nervous.

After all, it's a first date with a serial killer.

We've all been there.

The trick is to get out of the car as quickly as you can.

Time to present the spider woman

with his generous package.

Careful now.

She seems to be taking the bait.

And if you don't want to know what spider sex looks like,

look away now.

Even though you won't. I know I'm not.

I'm never looking away.

That's hot,

but mostly weird.

You're still looking, aren't you?

Me too.

I can't stop.

Ah, so, so gross, but so beautiful.

So majestic.

But mostly gross.

So, he got away with it this time,

but I did say he's got an insatiable appetite

for the ladies,

and he never did learn to quit when he was ahead.

He keeps on wrapping flowers and keeps on fooling females.

Until he starts to get complacent,

wrapping up any old trash.

And as all forgers know,

when your handiwork starts to get sloppy,

that's the day consequence comes knocking at the door.

That's right.

That's the day...

you get nailed.

RIP Spider, you died doing what you love.

I guess this is one job

that I'll be pulling off without you.

So, I find myself with a vacancy in my lineup.

I'm thinking maybe it's time for an infiltrator,

someone, someone comfortable being behind enemy lines.

Trouble is there's always that one character

that takes the acting way too far, and goes 110% full method.

And I love working with method actors.

When your process has to become my process, that's teamwork.

These fancy feathered show-offs are male ruffs.

Once a year, thousands of these birds

fly all the way here from Africa,

for what I believe the Nordics call

a super friendly good time sex party.

The males are joined by less extravagant-looking females.

Among them is my contact, Philippa.

She and the other ladies are met with a dance extravaganza

that involves more feathers

than a cabaret in a chicken coop.

♪ Sinew exploding from chrome hooves ♪

♪ Can he run in a tutu? ♪

♪ 'Cause he moves like a generator ♪

♪ He puts the foot down and see you later ♪

What usually happens when a bunch of egomaniacs face off

in a high-stakes dance contest?

♪ Go-go ♪

♪ Watch-watch my-my... ♪

Yeah, it descends into a little slap fight.

♪ Look at him go ♪

No, keep going, it doesn't look stupid.

♪ Look at him go ♪

♪ Look at him go ♪

♪ Look at him go ♪

The males, they're so busy scrapping and posing

that most of them forget

they're even here to mate at all.

♪ Ask us to kneel and bow to the floor ♪

♪ She said no and she asked, "What for?" ♪

Which must be a little frustrating for the females,

who have flown 4,000 miles to...

not get any action.

But that's when Philippa steps up.

While the males are busy fighting each other,

she sneaks in

and mates with the females.

Yes, you heard me, plot twist!

Big one.

Philippa is actually Phil.

This method-acting genius is one of the 1%

of the male ruff population that has female plumage.

This way he avoids the brawling

and gets close enough to the ladies

to make sweet, sweet feathery love.

And when it comes to staying in character,

Phil is nothing short of a professional,

even letting the other males mate with him

to maintain the disguise.

That's commitment.

Textbook infiltration.

And thus I have come 180 on method acting.

There it is, that's why you do it, that's why you commit.

By the time the other males figure out they've been played,

he's out of there,

leaving them nothing to do but carry on fight-dancing.

Okay, guys, you can stop now, the ladies are all gone.

You know what, actually, keep going.

This is the one, this is the one that's gonna solve it.

No matter how stacked your lineup is,

when pulling off a heist,

you never know when you might hit a snag.

That's why every team needs someone with a cool head

and the smarts to figure their way out of a tight spot.

And they don't make 'em any more cunning

than they do...

down under.

One of my guys is about to demonstrate

exactly how you come out swinging

when your back is against the wall.

Because he's about to come up against her,

an assassin bug.

And take it from me, she didn't get that name

by helping old ladies across the road.

She's searching the forest for her next victim.

And is homing in on my little friend, the mad hatterpillar.

A name earned by sporting some of Mother Nature's

most unusual head apparel.

But unfortunately for him, he's about to enter

the most vulnerable stage of his life cycle.

After gorging himself on leaves,

he needs to shed his skin,

which has become too tight for his body.

Think of it like trying to wrestle your way

out of a sleeping bag that's two sizes too small,

or early 2000s skinny jeans while wearing a Halloween mask

with a unicorn horn on your head.

I'm not saying I've done that,

but a lot of things happened, uh, in the early 2000s,

that you carried over right into 2019, like skinny jeans,

and you just think wow, I should've,

why didn't someone say something?

I've been married, and you could've, you know.

Oh, no!

The assassin bug is closing in.

As he finally leaves his old skin behind,

he holds onto one bit:

the head.

Because it turns out his pointy headgear is not just a fun hat,

it's four stories of previous head skin

all stacked on top of the other,

and his secret weapon

in the fight against would-be assassins.

When it comes to carrying out all the murdering,

the assassin bug's evil-looking pointy mouth part

is capable of stabbing, liquefying,

and sucking up brains all in one neat, pointy package.

But only if you know which head is the real one.

She's utterly bamboozled

by the hatterpillar's four-story head hat.

And doesn't know where to strike.

In her confusion, she targets the fake heads.

Harmless to the caterpillar

who then uses his head hat...

...as a weapon.

Blow by blow, the hatterpillar battles the assassin bug

to the edge of the leaf.

And, well, so long, assassin bug.

The hatterpillar is a must on the crew.

And as I always say, don't bring a knife to a head fight.

I never say that, but I did that just now,

alluding to the fact that I do say it often.

But I don't.

So I've got almost every underdog I need

to pull off the perfect crime.

There's just one critical thing left.

Every team needs someone to take the fall.

And this family knows all about that.

The jackals.

An extra mouth to feed has put pressure on these guys

to deliver the goods.

Trouble is, everything they might hunt

is either too big...

too fast...

...or too much of a psycho.

Oh, you know who you are, Barry!

Remember that time in Baton Rouge?

Yeah, you do.

And frankly, when you've eaten termites once,

it's one time too many.

But other animals are managing to catch food.

Maybe steal something?

You do not wanna steal from this guy, though,

unless you're prepared to deal with the fallout.

Some of the team approach from the front.

But while the lion's eyes are on them...

the real hero sneaks around back.

His job is to distract the big guy.

And if he wants to come out alive,

he'll have to get it just right.

Knock-knock, Mufasa.

He has to run for his life,

but he draws the lion off for just long enough.

The rest of the pack can make off with the goods.

Back to the den,

to vomit up the spoils for their hungry child.

Get it all out, hold his hair back.

There you go.

And as for this legend,

he took the heat,

and this time he survived.

So, there you have it,

my little black book of associates.

All masters of deception,

and altogether, everyone I need to pull off the big one.

But we're not done yet.

There's something else you need to know about me.

♪ I am flesh and I am bone ♪

The reason I get to be the brains of this whole operation.

You know that part of the movie where you realize

there's slightly more to a crime caper than meets the eye?

That's this part.

♪ Mmmmmm ♪

♪ Like glitter ♪

So let's take another look at my Bali operation.

♪ Do you talk to the animals? ♪

♪ Do you hold... ♪

My light-fingered monkey cousins

may be fantastic at stealing the small stuff.

While they're busy doing that,

I figured out the thing humans value above all else.

They're willing to trade fruit

for their glasses and hats, right?

So I figured they'd give a whole lot more

for the tiny glass boxes that hold their souls.

♪ Rise up, ting ting, like glitter ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

And you know what?

I was right.

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ Like glitter ♪

♪ Do you walk in the valley... ♪

It may not be much to you,

but around here, an egg is an upgrade on a mango.

♪ Do you walk in the shadow of men ♪

♪ Who sold their lives to a dream? ♪

I've run the numbers, and it's 16.25 times better for protein.

But forget technicalities,

all you need to know is it's a stroke of genius,

carried out by yours truly, the mastermind.

♪ Like glitter ♪

Always one step ahead.

I'm sorry, I'm working on my evil laugh.

News just in of an audacious heist

police are calling the crime of the century.

Forensics say they are mystified by traces of fur, feathers,

and what looks to be a tiny sleeping bag

found at the scene.

Meanwhile detectives say they are searching for a...

am I reading this right?

A fish, some birds, a jackal,

a caterpillar, and a monkey,

thought to be the ringleader of the operation.

All remain at large.

I love a heist movie.

This one's giving me Rat Pack vibes.