CAST: Patton Oswalt (Remy), Ian Holm (Skinner), Lou Romano (Linguini), Brian Dennehy (Django), Peter Sohn (Emile), Peter O'Toole (Anton Ego), Brad Garrett (Gusteau), Janeane Garofalo (Colette), Will Arnett (Horst), Julius Callahan (Lalo/Francois), James Remar (Larousse), John Ratzenberger (Mustafa) SCR: Brad Bird DIR: Brad Bird STUDIO: Pixar / Disney MPAA: G RUNNING TIME: 110 min. OFFICIAL SITE: www.ratatouille.com Remember when Walt Disney used to number their animated films? Much more than a way of keeping track, that number was a way to tell the public that their movies were part of a canon, and worth counting. It was genius marketing. Somewhere around the turn of the century, we stopped hearing about what number Disney was up to, because, frankly, they weren't worth counting anymore (even the OFFICIAL CANON stopped making sense - the CGI entries Meet The Robinsons and Chicken Little are on the list but Dinosaur isn't?) Of course, I'm digressing to make a point. Pixar should be numbering their films. There is no studio that produces more consistent features. Every single release nudges technology a few steps farther than the one before. Every single one exists in its own fully-developed world. Every single Pixar film puts character first. And let's face it, every Pixar movie makes somewhere in the neighborhood of $250 million domestic. If you're of the opinion that Pixar makes “cartoons” or “children's movies,” than you and I will simply agree to disagree. I would challenge anybody to watch Ratatouille and come away thinking it skewed too young for their grown-up tastes. In fact, I'm rather surprised the movie scampered off with a G rating considering all the wine drinking, knife throwing, gun firing and peril that befalls our heroes. The biggest thing to point out right off is that the food looks so real, you'll want to eat immediately afterward. Several films have had this effect before - Big Night, in particular - but the food here is animated and would still make Emeril's mouth water. Oh, and it's about a rat in a kitchen. But Remy is no mere pest - he has a rather sophisticated pallet for most humans, not to mention his rat brethren, who are all happy to eat garbage (insert social commentary here). To Remy, the combination of flavors is the most exciting discovery possible. Remy also happens to be quite a chef. The kitchen is that of Gusteau's, a landmark Parisian eatery that has suffered the loss of it's jovial owner, who spawned his own catchphrase (which becomes the theme of the film) - “anyone can cook.” This viewpoint is not shared by the snooty, upper class food critic Anton Ego (Peter O'Toole), who can make or break an eatery's fortune with the stroke of his pen (insert lighthearted poke at snooty critics here). Remy's fortunes change when he is separated from his family and ends up at Gusteau's. After Gusteau's ghost encourages him to fix a soup gone wrong, Remy is discovered by Linguini, the inept garbage boy. The soup is a hit and now everyone is convinced Linguini might also be a master chef. Of course, that means that Remy and Linguini must figure out a way to work together so that nobody is the wiser, ala Cyrano de Bergerac. It's a nice touch that only the rats can understand each other - when they are screaming at each other, humans just hear a faint squeaking. The human guiding this rat's tale is Brad Bird, the accomplished warped genius behind The Incredibles and The Iron Giant. To truly appreciate how rare it is for an auteur to cast his imprint on a movie that a thousand other animators will also work on, compare the groovy stylized 60's vibe of The Incredibles with it's flat, loud color palette to the classy, eloquent world of Ratatouille's evocative Parisian locales. If you can spot any visual hallmark that would betray that these films are from the same director, you're a savvier movie buff than I. To be fair, the story of Ratatouille is a bit thin - the narrative takes the “what if” concept and stretches it for miles. But in the last act, the filmmakers give us anything but a predictable ending. And honestly, it just doesn't matter how thin the story is at times because everything looks so damned good. I don't mean that in a Michael Bay sort of way, in which visuals trump everything else. I mean that Ratatouille conjures up so many sensual delights; both visualized and imagined, I didn't want to leave this animated world. I know the movie didn't come with scratch and sniff cards but damned if I don't remember how good that kitchen -- or that omelet -- smelled. A lot has changed since the first time we met Buzz Lightyear and Woody. Since then, Pixar has been purchased by Disney but still creates autonomously. Much has been made of Disney's fretting over how to market the film (“The main character is a rat" ... "The title is unpronounceable so we have to sound it out on the poster" ... ”We can't sell any toys…”) Obviously, the most glaring subtext of Ratatouille was lost on the bean counters. The movie tells us over and over that people will eat garbage and never question it. But if you give people something sumptuous to chew on, you never know - they may just prefer the good stuff once they know the difference. It's ironic, given Disney's recent slate of animated films, that they would question anything from a studio that has never made a wrong move -- not even with a movie filled with talking cars. Let's say it together: Ratatouille is Pixar's Eighth Animated Feature. --reviewed by DENNIS WILLIS