Ratatouille

After the opening short Lifted—an intergalactic driver’s ed comedy that is sound extraordinaire Gary Rydstrom’s ingeniously funny directorial debut--comes perhaps the most unusual and sophisticated film Pixar has yet released. First of all, I have three words for those detractors who predicted that a rat would be too disgusting a star for a children’s film: get over it! Rats (at least those that are domesticated--and especially animated) are adorable creatures, and make for far more engaging screen characters than the goggle-eyed vehicles of Cars. The film is so conscience of its questionable appeal to American audiences that one character even makes fun of the title (“it sounds like ‘rat-patootey’”).

Written and directed by Brad Bird, whose last film for Pixar was the Oscar-winning The Incredibles, Ratatouille further illustrates the filmmaker’s ambition to delve into more audacious—and decidedly adult-centered—waters. Though only rated G, the film’s content may at times lose small viewers in its overt maturity. Comedian Patton Oswald voices Remy, a rat whose love of gourmet food has labeled him an outcast among his garbage-chewing family. Aided by the (imagined?) ghost of his idol—deceased chef Django (Brian Dennehy), author of “Anyone Can Cook”—Remy sneaks his way into a famous Paris restaurant, and befriends hapless scullery boy Linguini (Lou Romano). Together, they become an unstoppable cooking machine, with the brilliant Remy manipulating Linguini’s arm movements by pulling on his hair ventriloquist-style (this is one of the film’s few annoyingly inexplicable elements).

Yet no bare-bones description of the plot can hint at the glorious texture and razor-sharp wit given to every creature onscreen. The rat’s passion for gourmet ingredients and the cooks’ desire for five-star ratings probably won’t interest young viewers, though they will be tickled by the infectious culinary slapstick, as well as the flat-out delicious animation (an astounding blend of old-school Disney style—circa Lady and the Tramp--and eye-popping photorealism).

However, Bird has admitted that children are not the majority of viewers he’s intending to reach with his films. Indeed the character dynamics and dimensions are so complex that they could easily engage viewers of any age. Not only does he throw in some decidedly edgy one-liners—Linguini says of his dead mother: “she believed in heaven, so she’s covered—afterlife-wise”—but he also injects flawed, messy humanity into the most seemingly clear-cut character relationships. Even the romantic attraction between Linguini and chef Collette (a fiery Janeane Garofalo) unfolds in a way that is delightful in its unpredictability.

Though the film lacks the universally engaging spark of something like Finding Nemo (still Pixar’s best film), Bird uses his film to illustrate a message with the ability to move audiences of any age. Remy’s improbable quest to make his unlikely dream come true mirrors our own desire to accomplish what surrounding critical eyes deem impossible. There’s even a villainous critic in the film, Anton Ego (exquisitely voiced by Peter O’Toole), who at first comes off as a grotesque (albeit hilarious) caricature. Yet the way the film uncovers his own humanity (in a breathtaking moment toward the end) may be the film’s greatest moment of genius. Thus, the film becomes a celebration of art itself, and those who aspire to create it…and in the case of the critic, admire and champion it.

Although I’m not giving Ratatouille the coveted five-star rating, I admire its audacity and champion its message all the same. This uniquely satisfying dish proves that change is nature, and yes, anyone can cook.

Rating: ****1/2 (out of *****)