Somewhere along the line the review changed Linguini's name to Alfredo...

One of the facets I didn't expect in Ratatouille was the beauty of Paris. The only facet of the previous Disney/Pixar film, Cars, that I really liked was the depiction of the American Southwest. It was a gorgeous, appealing place for the kind-of-irritating characters to roam around in.

The same is true of Paris in this film, only more so. Some people on line, who unlike me have the wealth, the leisure time and the stoic temperament to actually go to Paris, claim that the city is produced in accurate detail; they claim they can identify the street corners where some scenes take place. Whatever the truth of that, it looks the way everyone thinks Paris should look. The morning light making the corners of buildings almost glow...the city by night and by day...simply gorgeous.

In fact, I was reminded of the romantic comedies of the 60's that were set there, like Paris When It Sizzles and How to Steal a Million. Although human love has a part in this film, more important is the old implication that Paris is a place where love is practically part of the environment. Love is most represented in this film as the preparation of food.

I have to agree, "Ratatouille" is a step up several notches from previous animated films (at least, the ones I've seen). If you go back and watch "Antz" (granted, it's not Pixar) you realize how primitive computer animation was, and how far it's come. But "Ratatouille" is something else entirely.

It's not just a question of textures, shadows, light, and glistening moisture. It's that these things dance. They seem alive. The food in "Ratatouille" made my mouth water.

The one thing that bothered me with the film was the way it took its central conceit too seriously: First we're asked to accept a rat as a talented chef; then we're asked to confront the rats/human separation as a real conundrum. The anthropomorphism becomes a methaphor for class structure and family obligation and so on -- similar to the theme of "The Lion King." But "Ratatouille" handles it in a much smarter way, without pushing too hard. (I hope this makes sense....it's hard to explain, but let me just say that anthropomorphism as a basis for animated stories tends to bother me after a while.)

But "Ratatouille" has much more going for it than a two-worlds-colliding story. It also laces in a Cyrano story told via the rat-human puppetry that develops between the rat and the young chef. It captures the very strict and competitive dynamic of a high-end restaurant's kitchen. Best of all is its handling of the critic, whose evaluation of quality and taste has become soured by disappointment over the years, only to be re-invigorated by an experience that reaches back into his childhoood.

I don't want to give it away, and I feel a bit flaky admitting this, but the "big moment" with the critic at the end brought tears to my eyes. Maybe I am getting sappy as I get older, but "Ratatouille" is the first animated film that actually made me cry a little.

Weird.

Anyway, the film is definitely worth your time, as an adult. Kids will enjoy it too. The film is full of life. Don't pass it up because of your resistance to animal-movies or animated spectacles.

The thing I like about Brad Bird's animated films is, as Stephanie points out, that he doesn't really make animated films. His shot selections and camera placements are pretty much as you would see done in "regular" movies. It's almost like watching a film shot with standard lenses, with corresponding depth of focus and whatever qualities those lenses would bring to the way a shot looks. He makes regular mainstream movies; they just happen to be made on a computer.

To the person who admitted the film made you cry, you should check out "The Iron Giant." I like to think I'm a tough guy, but the end of that movie, well... excuse me. I'm not crying, I just have something in my eye... gotta go!

Is Alfredo Linguini, correct? So nothing changed, Anonymous. Read more carefully.

I just want to say, because Stephanie made such a big deal of it, that I LIKE rats. They're intelligent, friendly, and not at all repulsive. Mice, however, stink and gross me out. Go figure.

Why did they name this character after Italian food? If there was a Chinese chef in this movie would he have been called "Chop Suey"? Or a Jewish chef called "Gefilte Knish"? Gimme a break. If the kid is supposed to be Italian (given the humongous "schnozz" I'm guessing that's the point), give him a REAL Italian name, like the other characters have, not a ludicrous insulting one.

Not everyone is repulsed by the idea of a rat in the kitchen. I'm going to see "Ratatouille" this weekend with a group of rat-owning friends. Rats are our good-natured companions around the house, riding on our shoulders, watching TV with us, and happily accepting table scraps of all varieties.

Are you ready to call me a crazy rat lady yet? I give New Yorkers a free pass on the rat phobia. Everyone else should consider why Brad Bird picked a rat as his hero. Yes, there's inherent comedy in the idea of gourmand rat in a fine Parisian kitchen. But rats have highly developed senses of taste and smell, and as humans have urbanized, they have adapted to our behavior, our habits, and even our moods.

Rats are a product of the good and bad side of modern eating: the vast quantity and variety of what we eat, and the amount that we waste. The symbiotic relationship of Ratatouille and Linguine is a microcosm of the relationship between rats and humankind. In a sense, we created rats. If we're disgusted by them, then we're disgusted by a reflection of ourselves--a reflection that happens to be smaller, swifter, cleaner, less wasteful, more grateful and less demanding than us. And way cuter.