Most people who know me are familiar with my tendency to devour movies that fit into one of three categories:
1. Foreign
2. Independent
and
3. Depressing
If you can find me a depressing, independently financed foreign film, I’m going to like it 90% of the time. Yes, it makes me sound like a snob. So, in an effort to “branch out” and get away from my “snobby” film consumption, I was grudgingly dragged to Disney/Pixar’s latest animated offering, Ratatouille.
I tried to dislike this movie with all my being.
“It’s about rats… in a restaurant! That’s disgusting!” I told myself.
“It’s about a rat… that cooks! That’s preposterous!” I reminded myself.
But try as I might, as I watched my icy snob exterior began to melt away. I was actually enjoying myself! I caught myself laughing… out loud! I was amazed at my reaction to this cartoon. So amazed, actually, that when I got home I looked up any and all information about the film that I could find in an effort to justify my liking of it.
Ratatouille was written and directed by Brad Bird, the same guy behind The Incredibles and The Iron Giant, two animated movies I’m not at all ashamed to admit that I liked. So it has that going for it. It also stars (the voice of ) Patton Oswalt, whose stand-up comedy specials I always leave on when I see them on Comedy Central. So that’s good too.
I found myself connecting to the main character in many ways. Oswalt voices Remy, the rat with a super keen sense of smell and a palate that is not satisfied scrounging for garbage and stealing discarded scraps. He wants to cook! And not just burgers and fries, oh no. Remy’s a snob! I can relate! He wants to cook haute cuisine and convince all his rodent friends that settling for scraps is not the way to go. I feel the same way about movies.
After getting separated from his family and winding up in Paris, Remy befriends lanky(and human) Linguini, a garbage boy in a three-star kitchen, who Remy can control like a marionette by yanking on his hair. Realizing that he can't cook and Remy can, and Remy realizing that rats aren’t allowed in restaurants, the two protagonists join forces and try to trick everyone in the kitchen and in the formidable culinary world, including the dour, super-serious Anton Ego, France’s most feared critic.
The animation, of course, was also fun to watch. The colors pop and the digitally rendered landscapes and backgrounds practically look real. But that really isn’t what sticks with you. Over all, what I think I liked most about the movie was its sophistication. Yes, it’s a kids movie about a rodent that cooks, but it never felt dumbed down. Remy has to decide between his family responsibilities (food safety inspector - he sniffs for rat poison) and the consequences of chasing his own dreams of cooking without thinking of the results of his decisions. Every choice has a price and we watch as Remy learns this through his journey.
Even the supporting characters are fleshed out. Camille, for example, (voiced by Janeane Garofalo) is the only woman in the kitchen and she explains the only reason she’s been successful in a male dominated industry is because she’s tough as nails. But against her better judgment, her tender and vulnerable side also gets displayed as she falls for Linguini as she teaches him the ins and outs of professional cooking. These are not common topics for kiddie movies.
Furthermore, Ratatouille avoided the all-to-common practice of animated movies (the Shrek movies in particular) pandering to adults with double entendres while lobotomizing the kids with goofy songs and oversimplified moral platitudes. Come to think of it, the theater was full of twenty-somethings. I only remember seeing one kid in the audience. That should tell you something about the level at which this movie operates. It’s not just a kids movie (though have no doubt, it is a movie suitable for children). It challenges the notion of what kid’s movies are and what they could be.
That’s why when the movie ended I was convinced I needed to add another category to my list of genres I enjoy: “Sophisticated Animation”. Or does that make me sound even more snobbish?
1. Foreign
2. Independent
and
3. Depressing
If you can find me a depressing, independently financed foreign film, I’m going to like it 90% of the time. Yes, it makes me sound like a snob. So, in an effort to “branch out” and get away from my “snobby” film consumption, I was grudgingly dragged to Disney/Pixar’s latest animated offering, Ratatouille.
I tried to dislike this movie with all my being.
“It’s about rats… in a restaurant! That’s disgusting!” I told myself.
“It’s about a rat… that cooks! That’s preposterous!” I reminded myself.
But try as I might, as I watched my icy snob exterior began to melt away. I was actually enjoying myself! I caught myself laughing… out loud! I was amazed at my reaction to this cartoon. So amazed, actually, that when I got home I looked up any and all information about the film that I could find in an effort to justify my liking of it.
Ratatouille was written and directed by Brad Bird, the same guy behind The Incredibles and The Iron Giant, two animated movies I’m not at all ashamed to admit that I liked. So it has that going for it. It also stars (the voice of ) Patton Oswalt, whose stand-up comedy specials I always leave on when I see them on Comedy Central. So that’s good too.
I found myself connecting to the main character in many ways. Oswalt voices Remy, the rat with a super keen sense of smell and a palate that is not satisfied scrounging for garbage and stealing discarded scraps. He wants to cook! And not just burgers and fries, oh no. Remy’s a snob! I can relate! He wants to cook haute cuisine and convince all his rodent friends that settling for scraps is not the way to go. I feel the same way about movies.
After getting separated from his family and winding up in Paris, Remy befriends lanky(and human) Linguini, a garbage boy in a three-star kitchen, who Remy can control like a marionette by yanking on his hair. Realizing that he can't cook and Remy can, and Remy realizing that rats aren’t allowed in restaurants, the two protagonists join forces and try to trick everyone in the kitchen and in the formidable culinary world, including the dour, super-serious Anton Ego, France’s most feared critic.
The animation, of course, was also fun to watch. The colors pop and the digitally rendered landscapes and backgrounds practically look real. But that really isn’t what sticks with you. Over all, what I think I liked most about the movie was its sophistication. Yes, it’s a kids movie about a rodent that cooks, but it never felt dumbed down. Remy has to decide between his family responsibilities (food safety inspector - he sniffs for rat poison) and the consequences of chasing his own dreams of cooking without thinking of the results of his decisions. Every choice has a price and we watch as Remy learns this through his journey.
Even the supporting characters are fleshed out. Camille, for example, (voiced by Janeane Garofalo) is the only woman in the kitchen and she explains the only reason she’s been successful in a male dominated industry is because she’s tough as nails. But against her better judgment, her tender and vulnerable side also gets displayed as she falls for Linguini as she teaches him the ins and outs of professional cooking. These are not common topics for kiddie movies.
Furthermore, Ratatouille avoided the all-to-common practice of animated movies (the Shrek movies in particular) pandering to adults with double entendres while lobotomizing the kids with goofy songs and oversimplified moral platitudes. Come to think of it, the theater was full of twenty-somethings. I only remember seeing one kid in the audience. That should tell you something about the level at which this movie operates. It’s not just a kids movie (though have no doubt, it is a movie suitable for children). It challenges the notion of what kid’s movies are and what they could be.
That’s why when the movie ended I was convinced I needed to add another category to my list of genres I enjoy: “Sophisticated Animation”. Or does that make me sound even more snobbish?
