RatatouilleReview by Jeffrey Overstreet |
posted 6/29/2007
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It wouldn't be Paris without romance, and Linguini has his eyes on Colette
A few words about animation: Just when you think that Pixar has set an unsurpassable standard (Finding Nemo, The Incredibles), they astonish us with new innovations.
The most impressive aspect of Ratatouille's animation is its depth and color. When the Almighty sees the glory of a Paris sunrise in this movie, he might just give Pixar the controls for real-world artistry. The dark, reflective surface of the rushing stream that washes Remy away from his family of thieving rodents proves that even the gutter can be beautiful through the eyes of an artist.
Even more surprising is Pixar's continuing progress in creating animated human beings. Ratatouille introduces two outrageous cartoon personalities—Skinner the diminutive head chef, and Anton Ego, the stilt-legged restaurant critic whose attitude fits his name (voiced with grandiose contempt by Peter O'Toole). Both of them command our attention even more powerfully than the fuzzy little critters. Ego, with his magisterial condescension and Nosferatu posture, deserves a place in the Disney villain hall of fame alongside Cruella de Vil and Captain Hook.
But Linguini (Lou Romano) is the main event. He's the most reluctant of Disney heroes since The Rescuers' Bernard, but what he lacks in personality he more than makes up for in choreography. Cooking up a storm, Linguini flails about the kitchen like a marionette in the hands of a particularly animated (pun certainly intended) puppeteer. Remember when Steve Martin was possessed by Lily Tomlin's ghost in All of Me? You get the picture.
It wouldn't be Paris without romance, and this stew is spiced with the help of a beautiful, hard-working chef named Colette Tautou (Janeane Garofalo), who laments the difficulty of being a woman in the dog-eat-dog restaurant industry.
Skinner, the wicked franchise-master, doesn't know the meaning of good food
And as you watch Colette and Linguini work, you'll be enthralled by the animators' attention to detail. These kitchens bustle in a way that shows the animators' research in some first-rate kitchens. Ratatouille is probably the first animated feature to deserve inclusion on the list of great "foodie" films, alongside Babette's Feast, Mostly Martha, Big Night, Like Water for Chocolate, Sideways, and Eat Drink Man Woman. Fine restaurants located alongside movie theaters are about to experience a boost in their business.
Enough about animation: Any movie helmed by Brad Bird is just as much a feat of storytelling as it is a triumph of animation. And Ratatouille is no exception.
From Cinderella to An American Tail, we've seen a lot of rodents on the big screen. (Watch for one clear visual nod of acknowledgement to Don Bluth's The Secret of NIMH.) But Remy, voiced by comedian Patton Oswalt, is remarkable. Where most famous rodents are merely clever, Remy has a passion for culinary creativity.
As Remy tries to save his fellow rats from the humiliation of swallowing trash, he discovers what so many art lovers already know: It's hard to teach good taste. To steal a phrase from Franky Schaeffer, this fast-food nation is addicted to mediocrity. As we content ourselves on junk food, avoiding the opportunity to experience new things and discover delicious, nourishing fare, we also demonstrate our lack of discernment in what we choose to watch on television, order from iTunes, or see at the movies. Excellence matters, says Remy. And he tries to awaken his friends to a new world of flavor. As he does, savory sensations are illustrated brilliantly through abstract explosions of color.
There is so much to enjoy and celebrate here, Ratatouille deserves more than a review: it could (and probably will) inspire books about creativity and good taste. First and foremost, it's a story about claiming your passion, and pursuing it with excellence, whether you make big bucks or not. Children and grownups alike will learn the joy of adventurous taste—not just in the kitchen, but in art.