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Jul. 12th, 2007 01:41 pmHey, you know what I like?
I pirated Ratatouille, though I'm going to go see it again in the cinema if I get the chance because I can tell from the small cam version I saw that it's worth it. The art is, as ever, stellar; Pixar seems to delight in picking stories and "looks" for their films which challenge the artistic capabilities of its graphics team, as with the underwater effects in Finding Nemo. In this case the interplay of shadow-and-light is on a whole new level; there are moments in the movie where I just sit there and stare at the way they've used reflected light to indicate movement and mass. It's just amazing.
I have a weird relationship to Pixar. I love their work and their artistic philosophy, but every time I hear about a new film coming out by them I wonder if I'll really want to see it. I felt that way about Monsters Inc. and Cars especially, and I utterly loved both films. So I know, now, that any reservations I have are foolish, and I didn't even have any about Ratatouille. Foodie film! I'm there.
The stories are always chock-a-block with Family Values: the importance of friendship, family, loyalty, humility, and love. It's easy to gag on these things when they're presented wrong, but Pixar's tales have always been engaging and funny, too, so I've never minded.
Ratatouille is different, though. Before, the characters' skills and beliefs have always been a stumbling-block to their social development; the protagonists are often introduced as successful individuals who are arrogant about their power and thus unable to know themselves and/or form real bonds with the people around them (I'm thinking chiefly here of Cars, though it's a strong theme in Monsters Inc and it crops up in Finding Nemo and Toy Story as well). Ratatouille is darker; Remy has a talent for cooking and a love for food that translates only into his being appointed poison-inspector for his clan, a tedious and unfulfilling job. He feels outcast not because of any social disability but because he's different and that difference doesn't fit well into the world he lives in. When his family is forced to leave their den and Remy is left behind to find Paris on his own, he misses them but pushes on towards Gusteau's and the dream waiting for him there.
The story, instead of focusing on being true to those who love you, is about loving your family but being true to your art, and not in an arrogant way. Remy is torn about his abilities, confident that he can cook but insecure because until he arrives at Gusteau's, nobody values his skills. His family loves him but until the end they can't accept his dream, and Remy has only a hallucination of Gusteau to encourage him. Instead of the hero learning the value of other people, other people learn how to support and love someone with different goals and dreams. The message of "be yourself" is encouraging instead of humbling; even Linguini, who is forced into the role of chef, eventually finds his happiness as a waiter, and he's a very good waiter. It's a much more complex film, subtextually, than previous Pixar films.
Additionally, the "villain" of the piece is not the sallow critic, Ego; he's a judge but not an executioner, and he ends up being a sort of saviour, having been enlightened by Remy's cooking. Instead, the villain is the one who wants to tear down Remy's dream: the cranky, angry, selfish and arrogant head chef at Gusteau's, who turned an artistic powerhouse into a vendor of cheap frozen food.
I think Ego's actually my favourite character in the whole movie, come to think of it. It's not that I dislike Remy or Linguini or the rat family; they're well-sketched, but they're still archetypes (power goes to their heads, they hold grudges, they lash out vengefully and act childishly when they have their comeuppance). Ego seems like a grownup among adolescents, the only one who takes his fall gracefully and cops to being an asshole when he realises what he's done. His closing speech, the column about Gusteau's, is the epitome of a professional acting in a mature and intelligent manner, laying himself and his craft bare to his readers -- which is a rare and dangerous thing. It's how LC Snape is, in my head. I'd like to meet whoever wrote that speech.
Plus, he's got that great Snape bite.
Ego: "You're very slow, for someone in the fast lane."
Linguini: "And you're very thin for someone who likes food."
Ego: "I don't like food. I love it. And if I don't love it, I don't swallow."
And I love, love, love that the narration of the story comes to a close with Remy telling it to a group of friends around a dinner table, because that's what dinner time is for -- a time to draw nourishment not just from the communal food but from the shared experiences of those you eat with.
Storytelling and food -- now that's my kind of movie.
I pirated Ratatouille, though I'm going to go see it again in the cinema if I get the chance because I can tell from the small cam version I saw that it's worth it. The art is, as ever, stellar; Pixar seems to delight in picking stories and "looks" for their films which challenge the artistic capabilities of its graphics team, as with the underwater effects in Finding Nemo. In this case the interplay of shadow-and-light is on a whole new level; there are moments in the movie where I just sit there and stare at the way they've used reflected light to indicate movement and mass. It's just amazing.
I have a weird relationship to Pixar. I love their work and their artistic philosophy, but every time I hear about a new film coming out by them I wonder if I'll really want to see it. I felt that way about Monsters Inc. and Cars especially, and I utterly loved both films. So I know, now, that any reservations I have are foolish, and I didn't even have any about Ratatouille. Foodie film! I'm there.
The stories are always chock-a-block with Family Values: the importance of friendship, family, loyalty, humility, and love. It's easy to gag on these things when they're presented wrong, but Pixar's tales have always been engaging and funny, too, so I've never minded.
Ratatouille is different, though. Before, the characters' skills and beliefs have always been a stumbling-block to their social development; the protagonists are often introduced as successful individuals who are arrogant about their power and thus unable to know themselves and/or form real bonds with the people around them (I'm thinking chiefly here of Cars, though it's a strong theme in Monsters Inc and it crops up in Finding Nemo and Toy Story as well). Ratatouille is darker; Remy has a talent for cooking and a love for food that translates only into his being appointed poison-inspector for his clan, a tedious and unfulfilling job. He feels outcast not because of any social disability but because he's different and that difference doesn't fit well into the world he lives in. When his family is forced to leave their den and Remy is left behind to find Paris on his own, he misses them but pushes on towards Gusteau's and the dream waiting for him there.
The story, instead of focusing on being true to those who love you, is about loving your family but being true to your art, and not in an arrogant way. Remy is torn about his abilities, confident that he can cook but insecure because until he arrives at Gusteau's, nobody values his skills. His family loves him but until the end they can't accept his dream, and Remy has only a hallucination of Gusteau to encourage him. Instead of the hero learning the value of other people, other people learn how to support and love someone with different goals and dreams. The message of "be yourself" is encouraging instead of humbling; even Linguini, who is forced into the role of chef, eventually finds his happiness as a waiter, and he's a very good waiter. It's a much more complex film, subtextually, than previous Pixar films.
Additionally, the "villain" of the piece is not the sallow critic, Ego; he's a judge but not an executioner, and he ends up being a sort of saviour, having been enlightened by Remy's cooking. Instead, the villain is the one who wants to tear down Remy's dream: the cranky, angry, selfish and arrogant head chef at Gusteau's, who turned an artistic powerhouse into a vendor of cheap frozen food.
I think Ego's actually my favourite character in the whole movie, come to think of it. It's not that I dislike Remy or Linguini or the rat family; they're well-sketched, but they're still archetypes (power goes to their heads, they hold grudges, they lash out vengefully and act childishly when they have their comeuppance). Ego seems like a grownup among adolescents, the only one who takes his fall gracefully and cops to being an asshole when he realises what he's done. His closing speech, the column about Gusteau's, is the epitome of a professional acting in a mature and intelligent manner, laying himself and his craft bare to his readers -- which is a rare and dangerous thing. It's how LC Snape is, in my head. I'd like to meet whoever wrote that speech.
Plus, he's got that great Snape bite.
Ego: "You're very slow, for someone in the fast lane."
Linguini: "And you're very thin for someone who likes food."
Ego: "I don't like food. I love it. And if I don't love it, I don't swallow."
And I love, love, love that the narration of the story comes to a close with Remy telling it to a group of friends around a dinner table, because that's what dinner time is for -- a time to draw nourishment not just from the communal food but from the shared experiences of those you eat with.
Storytelling and food -- now that's my kind of movie.
