Ratatouille: The Poll

[kooyah]

Apparently, this had a relatively lackluster opening. How in the world was it marketed? All I ever saw for it was a billboard. I didn't even know a lot of people who knew it existed.

[Sabin]

Well, there's next year's 'Wall-E'. That teaser has me completely fascinated.

[Hustler]

The last question I'd ask (which critics seem to ask with almost every new Pixar offering) is how long can this streak last? (Some might say it ended with Cars, but I actually found that film a little underrated. It didn't compare to its predecessors, but on its own terms it's a charming, heartwarming and visually stunning picture.)

I found this movie even higher in quality terms than Cars.

[The Original BJ]

I found Ratatouille absolutely delightful, though Sabin is right that it doesn't match the emotional heft of some earlier Pixar films. (I actually had a pretty similar reaction to The Incredibles.) Oh, it's not that I didn't tear up a little during this film -- who'd a thunk that the sight of a bunch of rats cooking could seem so magical? -- it's just that at no time did I feel overwhelmed by emotion, as I did during the aforementioned finale to Monsters, Inc., most of "When She Loved Me," or (in what may still be Brad Bird's finest moment as a filmmaker) the climax of The Iron Giant.

If nothing less, Ratatouille is escapist entertainment at its finest -- it's smart and witty, full of joie de vivre (literally), and, above all blessed with some absolutely astonishing visuals. This should be nominated for Best Art Direction. The views of Paris are gorgeous, the visual style full of imaginative caricatures, and most impressively, every space has been designed as some kind of incredibly detailed playground for Remy and co. to run, climb, jump, and perform other feats of rat derring-do that continually surprise the mind and stun the eyes. The plot may not be as economically compact as the earlier Pixar hits (again a statement you could apply to The Incredibles), but Ratatouille grooves along on its rollicking visual energy and I never felt it dragging even if some of the narrative threads (particularly on a second viewing) feel stunted.

At first, I wasn't all that wild about the character of the stone-cold critic (named -- groan -- Anton Ego). (This also surprised me, especially given the goodwill critics have shown towards Bird's films.) But the character is ultimately redeemed as a heroic figure, and I appreciated that Bird took the high road here instead of violently torturing that character a la Shyamalan.

Ultimately, the film serves as a wonderful metaphor for what Pixar has accomplished over the past decade. Remy rejects the commercial sell-out of pre-packaged frozen food items as Pixar has avoided lowest common denominator filmmaking. (Here's about the time Damien should be chiming in . . . :p ) But Remy's customers find great pleasure in ratatouille, a "peasant dish," in the same way that Pixar has consistently delighted viewers with a form that shouldn't be taken any less seriously as art simply because it is popular.

The last question I'd ask (which critics seem to ask with almost every new Pixar offering) is how long can this streak last? (Some might say it ended with Cars, but I actually found that film a little underrated. It didn't compare to its predecessors, but on its own terms it's a charming, heartwarming and visually stunning picture.) The last animated film renaissance ended when the cartoon musicals started becoming too derivative . . . but Ratatouille hardly feels like a retread of earlier Pixar efforts. It's more like a welcome step in a just-so-slightly different direction, or, to paraphrase Remy, "a move forward." I hope Pixar keeps moving forward like this for years to come.

[Hustler]

Great movie. I´ve enjoyed it a lot. this movie is plenty of big names:Peter O´Toole, Brian Denehy, Janeane Garofalo, Ian Holm.

[anonymous1980]

I haven't seen Ratatouille yet but I need to express this:

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

One of the things I absolutely love about PIXAR is that they are clearly not interested in intentionally picking big-named stars to voice their animated characters so that they can put their names up in the marquee unlike certain other animated studios do (*coughsDreamworkscoughs*). They pick the right actor for the right role.

Patton Oswalt is someone who's best known for being second-banana sidekick character in The King of Queens yet he gets to voice the lead character in this movie. Hell, the second lead character was voiced by a guy in the crew! Dreamworks would never do anything like that.

[Sabin]

Ah, 'Ratatouille'...

With this film, PIXAR eschews the emotional heft and/or strong voice over characterizations of their previous efforts (and by efforts I mean triumphs, as the worst you can say about any of them is that 'Cars' is only pretty darn good) for high wire comedy of mayhem. I won't linger on the inner-life of Remy the Rat or Linguini the Chef or really any of these characters after credits, but the atonishment of just sitting down and letting these images wash over you does not wear off for any minute of the film's running time. Simply put, this is animation like I've never seen before. Staggering.

Sonic posited with his take on 'The Incredibles' why it even needed to be animated. I think the answer is that 'The Incredibles' wanted to be animated, that it was an idea germinated by animators who desire it to be so. 'Ratatouille' could conceivably be live animation with $90 million+ devoted to Rat FX, but one would lose the complete control over the color palette and the rich and bizarre visual nuances of the most ancilary of walk-ons. These humans are stunning.

'Ratatouille' feels like a PIXAR Wallace & Gromit movie. It's light as soufflé and that's not a bad thing for the most jawdropping spectacle of the summer. If I can't quite fall in love with the thing, it's only because it's a bit long-ish and lacks the heartbreak and resonance of PIXAR's other films. I can't watch the end of 'Monsters, Inc.' without losing my shit altogether. Owen Gleiberman is correct that the central message that "Anyone Can Cook" isn't something I or anybody is going to care about in the slightest. If the text is weak, the subtextural glory of every single frame compensates in whole. The love that Brad Bird feels for fine cuisine is evident in the juxtaposition of Remy the Rat on every surface, in every spice, in every sink.

[anonymous1980]

This one gets a thumbs up (***1/2) from Slant Magazine.

[OscarGuy]

I don't listen to Owen Gleiberman. He's a twit and one without an interesting voice.

[Sabin]

OG gives it a 'B' and Mike D'Angelo gives it a lowly, barely-passing 55.

Maybe it's not the masterpiece we thought. Merely a dazzling piece of entertainment.

[Sonic Youth]

Ratatouille
Mike Goodridge in Los Angeles
Screendaily

Dir: Brad Bird. US. 2007. 110mins.

The Academy might as well hand over the animated feature Oscar to Brad Bird right now, since it is hard to imagine any other film coming close to his glorious new film Ratatouille in this or any year. After a couple of years when animation has become stuck in a creative quagmire of penguins and assorted zoo pictures, Bird and the wizards at Pixar have taken the format to the next level of smart storytelling and visual inspiration.

Ratatouille is rich, complicated, intelligent and long – 110 minutes to be precise, although last year's Cars was longer – but its unusual blend of human and animal characters, subtle charm and gentle humour, warm characterizations and wealth of detail render it as sophisticated as any live action film, and more than most.

Just as impressive is the style and movement of the animation itself. We have seen CG-animated characters come on in leaps and bounds since Toy Story in 1995, but Bird and his team experiment here with stylish camera angles, complicated set-ups and panning shots which bring the action to life.

For the kitchen in which much of the action takes place, they create a sense of physical geography which is unprecedented in these films, and to the streets of Paris, they bring an atmosphere and design which are surprisingly authentic. It's easy to forget you're watching animation, instead imagining that some hot new auteur is behind the camera.

Box office prospects are appetising for Buena Vista domestically and Buena Vista International, and the global demographic for the film is enormous. The situation where domestic box office exceeded international on Cars ($244.1m to $218m) will be reversed here, and international numbers will be closer to the $371m take of The Incredibles.

If the film doesn't near Finding Nemo numbers, it is only because the storytelling is too demanding for younger children. Certainly the nuances of the French setting and cooking terminology might be above the heads of many toddlers, although adults and critics will be delighted.

To crown his achievement, Brad Bird has finally found a sympathetic vehicle for that most vilified member of the animal kingdom, the rat....



....Bird, who never shied away from animating people in The Iron Giant and The Incredibles, creates as many memorable humans as rats in Ratatouille. Between Linguini, Skinner, Colette and Ego, the film is full of delicious characters in addition to Remy, a rat who is less mawkish and more cerebral than the average animated rodent, while just as cute.

Chief among the many pleasures here is the film's focus on story and character. There are few asides, no songs or comic routines to distract from the central narrative arc. By the finale, which manages to be both funny and strangely moving, it a genuine wrench to leave these characters behind.

[Sabin]

David Poland loves it...but then again, it's David Poland...


Ratatouille is not only the best animated film of this year and the best animated film to land in American theaters since Spirited Away, it is the best work of Brad Bird's already legendary career, and the best American film of 2007 to date. If that is not enough, there are only a couple of films due this summer that have any hope of matching this film for quality.

Now ... with all that hyperbole, what is truly remarkable about Bird's next great step is its subtlety.

Bird has done with a mainstream American animated film what we come to look for from European animators like Sylvain Chomet. Of course, while Bird has created a similar sense of artistry, personal voice, and intimacy as the French, he has made his film much more accessible to a traditional mainstream audience.

Trying to tell the story makes it sound like less than it is. A rat has a taste for the finer things in life and learns how to cook by observing, combined with a natural skill and an amazing sense of smell. He finds his way to fulfill his rat dream by Cyrano-ing a busboy who really can't cook, but has a great big heart. How can a rat make it in a high-profile kitchen?

But it is so much more than that. It is, for starters, one of the great foodie movies ever made. Get reservations for a really good restaurant for after this film because you will want to taste something fresh and rich and delicious as you head out of the theater, a big smile on your face. (We headed to A/O/C, a terrific Cali-tapas/wine bar here in Los Angeles, after the screening and it couldn't have been a better choice.)

The philosophy that is repeated in Ratatouille is, "Anyone Can Cook." It is an odd balance to the classic line from The Incredibles, "When everyone's Super... no one will be." The Incredibles was about, in part, the mundane nature of having all that power and no good way to use it. Ratatouille is, again in part, about finding excitement in the passion of those who seem to be average.

The family of our rat hero, Remy, is constantly telling him to be more like they are, to accept his place, and to enjoy life as they do. But he wants something else and is willing to put himself out to do the work to make it happen. And when he is lost in the magic of that work, he isn't lonely, he isn't worried, and he isn't a rat in any way ... except physically.

Another major theme is not judging a book (or anything else) by its cover. I don't want to give any of the delicious plot points or story turns away. But Bird, in his apparently infinite generosity, somehow finds something to love about almost everyone and everything with almost every point of view. As an artist, he understands and embodies the idea that everyone acts in their own interest and that is not an inherently bad thing, although it may chafe against the interests of others.

But it is more than the themes that make this film so special. Bird plays with the form in ways we never see in American animation either. There is a manifestation of the experience of smell that is most reminiscent to me of another breakthrough film, Walt Disney's masterwork, Fantasia. He works in long form with mime techniques. And he takes is time with the cooking sequences, turning them into wonderful jazzy pastiches.

You won't see a less predictable film this year. (This is the part where someone out there explains how they predicted something in the third act ... spoil sport!) But the weaving nature of the narrative and the philosophical bent of the writing keeps veering towards the expected ... and then swerves off somewhere completely unexpected. Just like real life. It is the consistency of this inconsistency, the sense that even the silliest moments will pay off in some honest way, or that a character will openly acknowledge just how close to the edge they have come, that grabs you.

Bird is a character himself. Besides the now traditional display of concept art in the credits, he has a tag at the very end of the film extolling the virtues of "real" animation, free of motion capture. (It's also funny to think about what 2D animators might think of Bird working in CG ... but no one in the modern game has tipped the hat more often or more lovingly than Bird to the work of the past.) He also seems to credit everyone at Pixar, a tacit acknowledgement that it takes a village to make a movie, whether craft services or delivery people.

Then there is the killer Michael Giacchino score, which is his most complex work to date, mixing up what seems like a half dozen major themes. While the score of The Incredibles (which should have won the Oscar that year) is all part of a whole, here Giacchino splashes together a wide array of ideas and musical references, not unlike Remy making a soup that will knock you out with one whiff. And like Bird, every time you think you are about to head over the cliff with something"too French" or "too cute," Giacchino brings you right back to something surprising and yet comfortable.

The only question about Ratatouille is whether it will be a great commercial success. It is a sophisticated film and one wonders, even with talking rats, whether smaller children will be amused long enough not to kick the seats. Yet it's another wonderful step forward by Pixar, which as a company has not only been very successful, but willing to push the envelope. I still feel the height of what that company has done is Finding Nemo, which somehow reached beyond simply storytelling, with that magical sound of water, to a deeper place in kids and adults alike. It was hypnotizing and iconic and near perfect.

In a different way, Ratatouille is another major revelation. It is the first great American animation for adults first. Take your date, take your parent, take your friends ... this is not your little brother's animated movie.

[Sonic Youth]

Ratatouille

By Kirk Honeycutt
Jun 15, 2007
Hollywood Reporter


Brad Bird and Pixar Animation Studios are proving to be an unbeatable combination. Bird, the cartoon writer-director with delightfully off-kilter sensibilities, and Pixar, the cutting-edge computer-animation company that places so very much emphasis on character, have their second hit together in "Ratatouille," a follow-up to the universally popular "The Incredibles." Who would think a rat in a restaurant's kitchen would induce anything other than comic slapstick involving knives and cleavers flying in all directions? Yet Bird builds a comic world in which a rat can become a chef and food can take on an almost unbearable sensuality.

Yes, there's something in the kitchen for everyone in "Ratatouille," so the Mouse House should clear a wing in its hall of fame for Cousin Rat. "Ratatouille" might not reach the international boxoffice heights of "The Incredibles" -- then again, maybe it will -- but the film does rep another huge leap in CGI technique and imagination by the Pixar folks.

Heroes with impossible dreams are the stuff movies are made of. But "Ratatouille" gives us two seemingly hapless protagonists battling impossible odds. The first is Remy (voiced by comic Patton Oswalt), an uncommon French rat who refuses to nibble on garbage. Mais non, he prefers haute cuisine delicacies out of human kitchens. Indeed, his hero is Paris' culinary superstar Auguste Gusteau, whose motto -- and best-selling book -- is "Anybody Can Cook." But did Gusteau have Remy in mind?

The second hard case is Linguini (Lou Romano), a garbage boy at Gusteau's eponymous restaurant. In a way, his is the more desperate case because he loves the world of food but can't cook worth a lick. When Remy, momentarily stranded in Gusteau's, sees the mess Linguini has made of a soup when no one was watching, he quickly hurls ingredients in from all over the kitchen, turning the soup into the best thing that kitchen has produced in ages.

It seems old Gusteau has passed on to that kitchen in the sky. His sous chef, Skinner (Ian Holm), drawn to look like an evil and miniaturized Cantinflas, is content to coast on the restaurant's name while crassly expanding into frozen food. When Linguini receives credit for Remy's artistry, Skinner is forced to hire him as a cook. But Skinner challenges him to repeat his "accidental" soup recipe. When Linguini comes to the startling realization that a rat actually created the soup, he knows his goose, you should excuse the expression, is cooked.

But wait! Linguini and Remy develop a means to communicate. Through trial and much error (meaning much slapstick), Remy learns that by perching on the top of Linguini's head under his chef's hat and pulling tuffs of thick hair to manipulate limbs, he can pilot Linguini through his food-prep station. Soon, Linguini/Remy have the old magic back in Gusteau's kitchen, light a romantic fire underneath its sole female cook, Colette (Janeane Garofalo), has Skinner doing a slow burn and attracted the unwanted attention of the town's haughtiest critic, Anton Ego (Peter O'Toole at his most imperial and majestic self).

Cartoon food certainly has come a long way from the spaghetti-by-candlelight scene in Walt Disney's "Lady and the Tramp." In Bird's kitchen, sauces steam and bubble over brilliant flames, red wine shimmers in crystal glasses, vegetables slice, grate and chop in a frenzy of tiny flying objects, and the camera and cooks are in constant motion in a choreographed ballet with swift, tuxedoed waiters. Everything is so realistic in its textures, colors and smells -- yes, you'll swear you can smell the food -- that the next time you switch on the Food Channel will bring disappointment: It doesn't look like Gusteau's!

The movement of all the characters from the rats, right down to their hairs and tail, to the humans flying this way and that has an authentic precision that adds to the comic action immeasurably. But trumping even the photorealism of this Parisian fantasia is the utter charm of it all.

The parallel rat world is rendered in equally imaginative details so that Remy becomes an outsider in his own community by his insistence that food is art. The symbiotic friendship between Remy and Linguini carries genuine sympathy and caring. An engaging chef Gusteau (Brad Garrett) appears to Remy frequently as "a figment of your imagination" to offer advice and support to Remy. And the ratatouille dish that breaks the great critic's heart is a reminder that all great food takes you back to mama's kitchen.

Bon appetit!

[Sonic Youth]

Ratatouille
(Animation)
By JUSTIN CHANG
Variety


"Ratatouille" is delicious. In this satisfying, souffle-light tale of a plucky French rodent with a passion for cooking, the master chefs at Pixar have blended all the right ingredients -- abundant verbal and visual wit, genius slapstick timing, a soupcon of Gallic sophistication -- to produce a warm and irresistible concoction that's sure to appeal to everyone's inner Julia Child. Though the latest crowd-pleaser from "The Incredibles" writer-director Brad Bird arguably reps a harder sell than earlier Disney/Pixar toon outings, the combo of critical excitement, energetic word of mouth and shrewd marketing should make this family-friendly feast a gastronomical success worldwide.

After the less than universally admired "Cars," Pixar's eighth feature sees the Disney-owned toon studio in very fine form, and confirms Bird's reputation as one of the medium's most engaging storytellers. Compared to his woefully underseen "The Iron Giant" and Oscar-winning "The Incredibles," "Ratatouille" may be smaller in scope, but in telling the story of a very smart rat striving to enter the very human world of French haute cuisine, it shares with its predecessors an affinity for gifted outsiders seeking personal fulfillment.

Pic also extends two of the great themes of "The Incredibles": the pursuit of excellence over mediocrity (a standard that has long distinguished Pixar from rivals and imitators) and the importance -- or rather, the unavoidability -- of family ties. Remy, a thin blue rat who lives with his unruly rodent clan in the French countryside, finds himself torn between these two commitments as the film opens.

Blessed with unusually sharp senses, Remy (voiced by comedian Patton Oswalt) is educated, cultured and mad about creating his own culinary masterpieces -- the complete opposite of his tubby, good-natured brother Emile (Peter Sohn) and gruff dad Django (Brian Dennehy), who are content to wallow in trash and disapprove of Remy's all-too-human higher ambitions.

After an unfortunate cooking mishap, the rats are evicted from their rural nest and forced to escape through the sewers -- where, in the first of many nimbly orchestrated action sequences, Remy is separated from his family. He winds up in Paris, near a restaurant once presided over by the legendary chef Auguste Gusteau, whose populist motto ("Anyone can cook!") rings in Remy's ears as he spies longingly on the bustling kitchen activity.

One busy evening, Remy can't resist sneaking in and spicing up a vat of soup; credit for the delicious dish goes to the poor garbage boy, Linguini (Lou Romano), a clumsy, stammering type with no talent for cooking, who is immediately ordered by conniving head chef Skinner (Ian Holm) to reproduce his success.

While man and mouse experience difficulty communicating at first, they ultimately agree to team up, "Cyrano de Bergerac"-style: Linguini can keep his job, and Remy can slice and dice to his heart's content. The result is a classic odd-couple comedy in which Linguini and his "little chef" must learn to work together, avoid discovery and, inevitably, deal with the internal and external pressures that threaten their unlikely partnership.

Among those threats are the kitchen's lone female, Collete (a tough-talking but tender Janeane Garofalo), whom Linguini inevitably falls for; the up-to-no-good Skinner, who's both suspicious and jealous of Linguini's success; and an uber-acerbic restaurant critic, aptly named Anton Ego (a sneering Peter O'Toole), who once ruined Gusteau's reputation.

Premise was originally conceived by Jan Pinkava (who left Pixar before the project's completion but is credited here as a co-director) before Bird took over the reins -- a transition that may explain why some of the secondary characters and subplots feel a tad rote, particular in the more manic later stretches, though the overall execution is never less than involving.

But "Ratatouille" is at its finest in the kitchen, as Remy learns to whip up sauces and sweetbreads while directing Linguini's movements from beneath the latter's cap. The joy of artistic creation is both palpable and infectious, and Bird and his supremely inventive team of animators and designers respond in kind -- giving viewers a glimpse of mouth-wateringly realistic cuisine one moment, dazzling them with some delightfully Keaton-esque slapstick the next.

After the superhero spoof of "The Incredibles" and the auto anthropomorphism of "Cars," the idea of yet another talking-critter toon might strike some auds as overly quaint and familiar. But the last thing "Ratatouille" wants to serve up is yet another shrill, jabbering, pop-culture-referencing menagerie. Under Bird's careful direction, Remy, with his persuasively rat-like movements and meek nods and shrugs, delivers one of the more endearing and soulful animal "performances" in recent memory. Oswalt's dialogue delivery, though consistent with the generally superb voicework, never dominates the character's expressive range.

As ever with Pixar, there's the sense that a complex world has been beautifully and minutely imagined from the inside out, one where it's clear the filmmakers have done their homework (what other family movie would bother to explain the meaning of a demie chef de partie?). The entire production is a captivating visual delight, as the fluid shifts between human and rodent perspective, and the camera's sensitivity to different gradations of light and color, are nothing short of stunning. As an impossibly romantic valentine to the City of Light, pic could give both the recent "Paris, je t'aime" and the forthcoming "2 Days in Paris" a run for their money.

Wide-ranging score by Michael Giacchino ("The Incredibles") stays perfectly in sync with the action, encompassing string- and accordion-based Gallic overtones as well as a light percussion that suggests the scampering of rat paws.

Pic is preceded by an amusing Gary Rydstrom-directed short, "Lifted," which cheekily imagines a driver's ed lesson aboard a UFO.