'Ratatouille': A Classic Recipe

Rats -- according to a recent poll that I just made up -- edge out cockroaches and lawyers as the most reviled species known to humankind. But thanks to the charming, computer-animated "Ratatouille," their front-runner status may be in serious jeopardy.

Written and directed by Brad Bird ("The Incredibles"), the movie makes us reassess those pests as more than misunderstood fuzzballs just hunting for their next meal. One of them -- a plucky, adorable nibbler by the name of Remy -- aspires to be the top chef in a prestigious Parisian restaurant.

Hey, why should haute cuisine remain the exclusive domain of humans? Any rodent with the right combination of determination and spices should have the right to become the rodent bleu of his generation. If that isn't a feel-good message for everyone -- with the possible exception of the French culinary establishment -- what is?

A co-production of Walt Disney and Pixar Animation Studios, the brilliant production house that also gave us "The Incredibles" and "Toy Story," "Ratatouille" has that so-real-you-can-touch-it quality, with characters that seem more like tactile puppets than two-dimensional beings. But unlike its CGI predecessors, "Ratatouille" doesn't center on the over-familiar surfaces of contemporary life. It harks back to Disney's older era -- when cartoons seemed part of a more elegant world with less edgy characters.

As with such Disney classics as "Lady and the Tramp" and "The Rescuers," the animals here are softly appealing, the repartee is bright but not postmodern, and the irony is easily understood. You can feel an almost antique atmosphere in the elegantly stylized renderings of alleys, cobbled streets and restaurants in the background. This is family-friendly filmmaking at its most appealing -- fresh yet familiar, playfully mischievous but also subtly reassuring.

Remy (voice of Patton Oswalt) has a gourmet's sense of taste and smell, a skill set that means nothing to his fellow scavengers. When he becomes fixated with the writings and philosophy of the celebrated master chef Gusteau, author of "Anyone Can Cook," his heart swells with grand purpose. Through an entertaining series of calamities -- which include floating through the sewers of Paris on Gusteau's best-selling hardcover -- Remy literally lands in Gusteau's kitchen.

There, he helps a gangly kitchen boy named Linguini (a charmingly goofy Lou Romano) transform a gastronomical disaster into a tasty masterpiece. Linguini, who gets all the credit for the hot new recipe, begs Remy to help him repeat the success. So Remy hides inside Linguini's white hat (don't want to scare people) and directs the boy -- "Pinocchio" style -- with strategic tugs of Linguini's hair.

The two become a formidable team and their impressive cuisine does not go unnoticed by the arrogant food critic, Anton Ego. As voiced by veteran actor Peter O'Toole, Ego is a wonderfully dour, self-absorbed prig who declares of his daily regimen: "I don't like food, I love it. And if I don't love it, I don't swallow."

"Ratatouille" goes down so smoothly, it's easy to forget its passing details. Observed mostly from Remy's rat's-eye view, Gusteau's kitchen is a memorable world-in-miniature with its vivid old-fashioned stoves, bright, brassy pots and general air of frenzied industry; never did sliced red onions or simmering soup look so fresh and real. And there's a showstopper scene in which a granny -- her head covered in pink curlers -- chases Remy around her kitchen with a shotgun. (Although she peppers her walls and ceiling with pellets, the scene is no scarier than an Elmer Fudd shooting spree.)

Michael Giacchino's beautifully modulated score evokes the French movie soundtracks of the late 1950s and early 1960s, when jazz and pop blended together in a hip, almost cheesy frenzy. And he conveys the more cliched musical themes associated with Paris -- accordions and such -- with witty originality.

With such a public relations triumph for the rats of the world, the mind goes to racing to other vilified creatures in the animal kingdom. Might we expect a major comeback for a very famous vermin from the old Disney vaults? Pepe Le Pew, Line 1.

"Ratatouille" is preceded by "Lifted," a Pixar short in which an extremely nervous young alien tries -- with much slapstick bumbling -- to pass his human abduction and spaceship driving test, making for the funniest five minutes, thus far, of the summer.

Ratatouille (110 minutes, at area theaters) is rated G and contains kisses and mild cartoon violence