" I don't like food. I love it. if I don't love it, I don't swallow " - Peter O'Toole as Anton Ego in Ratatouille

There may not be a more concise way to describe the dichotomy of emotion wrapped up in a relationship with a medium. In this instance, the medium is food. Ego loves food, but his love of food is so powerful that if he is not absolutely in love with a dish, it becomes an insult to his favorite medium and worthy only of expectorate.

I do not claim to love any medium so much as Ego loves food, but I have certainly fallen deeply in like with the medium of film over the past several years. As a result, I have found myself upchucked from the innards of several theaters (home and commercial alike) still very much hungry for a more suitable meal.

Similarly, a select few movies have demanded that I return for seconds. I have delighted in microwaveable burritos (Pirates of the Caribbean, Star Wars), homemade steak and pierogies (Garden State, The Incredibles), and gourmet foie gras in a light truffle sauce (Pride and Prejudice, Finding Neverland).

Ratatouille is the latest nosh I have downed, and I've already had a second portion, but which category does it belong in?

Review: Ratatouille

Rats get a bad wrap. They're small, furry rodents that aren't but a few thousandths of a genome from the infinitely more popular gerbils, guinea pigs, and meerkats. Their simple desire to live near us is what vilifies them. That and those menacing tails.

So, consider it a challenge to characterize, develop, and center a movie around man's most annoying vermin - rats. And not just any rats, french rats. Brad Bird, always the maverick animator, was the cinematic chef bold enough to accept this tall order.

We are introduced to our six inch hero in full frame, airborne fashion, and the loveable Remy rarely relinquishes that domineering presence through the duration.

Remy (voiced competantly by Patton Oswalt) is a rat with especially heightened senses and a taste for the finer things. His brother Emelie and father Django (Peter Sohn and Brian Dennehy) do not possess his ideals or will to make a difference. Gluttony and survival seem to be their respective motivations.

Unfortunately Remy doesn't seem to be completely satisfied with the employment of his gifts - his heigtened sense of smell making him an ideal poison checker. His disaffection with mere survival moves him to forbidden ground; closer to a race that seems to hold his same passions. The embodiment of these passions - these ideals that Remy seems ingrained with - is Gusteau, the 5 star toast of Paris. Remy is enlivened by Gusteau's philosophy that "Anyone can cook" and emboldened to venture into human kitchens with Remy's own representation of Gusteau his constant companion.

Unfortunately, Remy's drive to create uproots his father's colony and separates him from his family. The rift, however, is quickly filled with love.

Ratatouille is, at its core, a love story. Along the lines of Disney Classics Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, and Cinderella, Remy must cross predefined societal boundaries to be united with his love. But, in a refreshing twist, the union that Remy makes by crossing the line is not the object of his love, but rather the vehicle for it.

Enter Linguini. The product of Gusteau's old flame, the fiery haired Linguini is introduced to us via flambé en cuisine Gusteau during the dinner rush. A neurotic clutz, Linguini (voiced delightfully by Lou Romano) seems to have taken on the coordination and demeanor of his namesake.

After turning a simmering pot into a culinary abomination, Linguini provides Remy with his very first chance to showcase his gift on a grand stage. The resulting soup catapults Remy (by way of Linguini) along with Gusteau's into victual relevance. It also sentences our rodent hero to death - a death his red haired executioner was never fit to carry out.

The resultant alliance between Remy and Linguini turns the hangman into a marionette. Remy becomes a sort of Cyrano de Bergerac (or CD Bales to the Steve Martin enthusiast). The passion and proficiency flow from Remy, but Linguini is the one making love (or food in this case, but it's all the same to the rat).

Ratatouille is the pinnacle of the truly inspired artist biographies. Like contemporaries Ray and Walk the Line, we are given a visual feast that meticulously conveys every facet of the creative process. The only downside to Ratatouille is that its hero is largely fictional.

Or is he?

Director/Screenwriter Brad Bird may or may not divulge how much of himself went into the charming rodent, but after witnessing every glorious frame, every magic permeated scene of Ratatouille saturated with the richest of ocular treats, I have to believe that Remy and Bird have distinctly similar beliefs about what creativity means to them and to the world.

So when the antagonist food critic, Anton Ego (voiced masterfully by the great Peter O'Toole [What genius did this casting, anyway?]), provides the only true carnal foil to Remy in the picture, it is no wonder that he is bested in the same fashion that Bird has defeated his own critics. I won't give away the climax, but prepare to be, as Ego writes, rocked to your core.

As I sit here and listen to the score via iTunes (gorgeously orchestrated by Michael Giacchino), I can't help but feel anxious about when I'll get a third helping of the most delectable cinematic indulgence of the year.

C'est la vie!

Grade:

Foie gras and truffles it is then.

I'm going to end this entry with a solemn vow: If Ratatouille is not nominated for Best Picture by the Academy come next February, I will never put credence into the Oscars again.

This is the best movie I've seen in three years and rightfully makes the top 5 movies I've seen ever. After the shameless political rally of last March (Happy Feet? Really?), I'm putting the Academy on probation. I'll leave you with a list of awards we should be seeing Ratatouille take home next March:

• Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role - Peter O'Toole
• Best Animated Feature Film of the Year
• Achievement in Art Direction
• Achievement in Directing
• Achievement in Film Editing
• Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)
• Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song) - "Le festin" - Camille
• Original Screenplay
• Best motion picture of the year

In my humble opinion, 5 Citizen Kane's would have to come out during the second half of this year to keep Ratatouille from being nominated in each of those categories.

Tschüs!