Column:

Rat rules the kitchen, theater

By Dan Moore

Published July 11, 2007

Originally, animation instilled in people a sense of wonder by sheer virtue of its existence. In 1914, audiences were stunned when an animated dinosaur simply turned toward them. Flash to summer 2007: Animation is being used to fly giant GM-built robots through Michael Bay movies and people are sleeping through it.

"Ratatouille" isn't about a dinosaur or a giant earth-saving Buick. It's about a rat named Remy who becomes one of the most famous chefs in Paris by controlling a humble restaurant janitor like a marionette. More importantly, it's made by Pixar, a company that understands both animation and filmmaking. With "Ratatouille," the company has thrust itself on the top of both crafts.

What stunned the people in that theater in 1914 was that the drawing they were watching seemed alive. Although it's hard to do in a multiplex also showing "Live Free or Die Hard" as opposed to "Fatty Arbuckle Gets Hit with a Pie," "Ratatouille" is more vital than anything playing today.

Action scenes (what is a rat's life but one chase scene after another?) crackle with life but remain smooth and watchable. When Remy isn't walking on two legs (to avoid contaminating the food, naturally), he skitters around like a real rat, albeit one with big emotive eyes and Patton Oswalt's voice. And in lieu of a series of heart-tugging ballads from Phil Collins or another of the Disney movie has-been all-stars, there's a wonderful Gershwin-esque score with nimble twists and mood changes that characterize as well as any voice actor.

The aesthetics alone already place "Ratatouille" above the countless "Shrek"-inspired monstrosities that beat it to theaters this year. But the writing is what will make it a classic.

"Shrek" and its followers derive their humor and appeal, such as they are, from suffocating the characters, mouthpieces for the stars hired to voice them. Pop culture references as dated as last year's "Best Week Ever" are crassly calculated to fly over the heads of the children buying the merchandise.

"Ratatouille" is a funny movie because it's well-written. It appeals to adults without hidden meaning and to children without condescension. Its characters are interesting not because we know the actors behind them, but because they move past the lesson-learning puppets of later Disney movies and the preening clowns of "Shrek." They're real boys, to mix some cartoon metaphors, and while no one is going to accuse Pixar of eating Ingmar Bergman's lunch in terms of emotional complication, they're as well-drawn as movie characters can get.

"Ratatouille" is a delight because its animation is perfect and it has true universal appeal, but mainly it's a delight because it's a great movie, one of the best of 2007. And like the restaurant critic in the film, who discovers whose paws were all over his five-star food, you just have to look past the fact that it stars a rat.