REVIEW
Ratatouille – An Honest, Winsome and Genuinely Smart Pixar/Disney Success

For anyone who has harbored a dream that garnered not only disapproval but derision from beloved family and friends, Remy the rat’s steadfast hope and fearless determination to follow the promptings of his heart no matter the consequences may inspire you to keep on keeping on. After all, you may think you have it bad, but at least you’re not a rat.

Continuing the streak of winning, smart and authentic animation films begun with the memorable Toy Story in 1995, the Pixar Entertainment and Disney Pictures production Ratatouille builds upon the impressive foundation of A Bug’s Life, Monsters Inc., Finding Nemo, The Incredibles and Cars with obvious success. Though perhaps not brimming with characters as winsome as the loveable Sulley or as endearing as the irrepressible Nemo, Writer/Director Brad Bird’s Ratatouille nonetheless has all the marks of a Disney Pixar success.

What could be more unconventional than for a rat to not only have good taste but wish to share that taste with the world? Idealistic, audacious and just slightly crazy, Remy (Patton Oswalt) believes that his dream of culinary mastery can be realized despite his four paws and mile-long whiskers. After all, as his idol Chef Gusteau (Brad Garret) says, “Anyone can cook.”

After an escapade in the country with a gas-mask bearing, shotgun bearing Granny separates Remy from his family and friends, the dreamer finds himself in the city of lights, mere inches from the wonderful and legendary, though recently fallen from grace, Gusteau’s Restaurant. Peeking in on the staff and the newly arrived bus boy Linguini (Lou Romano), Remy can’t help but fix a dish that Linguini has accidentally spoiled. His audacity costs him as he is spotted by the staff, caught in a glass jar and toted towards a watery grave in the river.

Linguini however is in desperate need of a helping hand and recognizes that, odd as it seems, Remy could be the answer he’s been looking for. As the two begin a splendid partnership that puts Gusteau’s promptly back on the map, the only person dissatisfied with the blossoming success is Head Chef Skinner (Ian Holm). Hiding a lucrative frozen dinners franchise under Gusteau’s name, Skinner is mere weeks away from seizing full control of the restaurant and wants nothing out of the ordinary to upend his plan.

As expected, things complicate themselves, wind up, wind down, twist into love and then spiral into vanity all before the final critique of restaurant and food given by the most famous and feared food critic in all of Paris – Anton Ego (Peter O’Toole).

What is so amazing about Ratatouille is the fact that despite some pretty typical plot twists the film refuses to wind to a flawlessly perfect happily ever after ending. Between struggles amidst Remy’s enormous rat family, the woes of inter-kitchen politics and the heart-sickness of a dream deferred, Ratatouille is infused with a healthy dose of reality. It refuses to idolize a far off and ultimately unachievable ideal and instead points quietly to the fact that sometimes what we think we want is not always what is ultimately best.

Pixar again meets its own stellar animation standards. The lights, the sounds, the attitude and the mood present in each painstakingly sketched frame by frame drawing all point beautifully and succinctly toward Paris. And Michael Silvers and Randy Thom should be applauded for their sound design as the pitter-patter of rat paws was so dead on I found myself picking my feet off the floor of the theatre – just in case.

Above all however, I must comment on the wonderful character of Anton Ego. Despite his ghastly appearance, forbidding attitude and unnerving stare, I recognized a kindred soul for the critic’s life is a rather lonely life. Seeming like wicked fun and a startlingly easy way to make a living, the bottom line is that it is still criticism – it still consists of the picking apart of someone’s heart and soul, the dissecting of an endlessly worked on project, ultimately giving it either the stamp of approval or a curt dismissal.

It is easy to abuse this privilege (dare I say curse?) of criticism – easier still to wonder if it really means anything in the long run. For critics may attempt to shine a light on the difference between good and bad, to show the intricate details that make quality . . . quality - but ultimately a critic’s work, however eloquent, shining and profound, comes to nothing more than a solitary opinion swirling amidst many others. Only the lucky ones like Anton Ego receive revelation.

Perhaps one day, I’ll be so lucky.