Ratatouille: A weird, wonderful feast

"Ratatouille," the story of Remy, the rat who just wants to cook, is much more "Babe: Pig in the City" than "Babe" in tenor and tone. And that's just fine by me.

The opening sequence, in fact, is downright terrifying. When I was a kid, and I probably shouldn't admit it, I was thoroughly frightened by two animated movies. My mother tells me I had to leave the theater when the Orcs first appeared in that rather lame Ralph Bashki take on "Lord of the Rings." And, for a much more rational reason, I was horrified by the far superior "Watership Down."

Remy and his rat pals aren't subjected to quite the level of animal violence that so freaked me out in that classic tale, but they're still put in more genuine peril after he rats out (I couldn't resist) the location of their colony in an old French farmhouse than has existed in an animated movie in many, many years.

What made it so at once both hard and thoroughly intriguing to watch was that it all looks so real. Even John Lasseter and Andrew Stanton must have been squirming when they watched this unfold.

But then, and in wonderfully abrupt fashion, director Brad Bird injects "Ratatouille" with another element we've been missing in animated flicks for a long time: Magic. I had seen the best nine minutes of "Ratatouille" beforehand on YouTube, but that still didn't take away from the thrill of discovery when Remy first scampers up the rooftop to find Paris in front of him. It's a vista that would make Hayao Miyazaki smile broadly.

And next, from when he's looking down on the kitchen at Gustave's with his guardian angel, the late Gustave (Brad Garrett), to when he falls through the window and lands in the chaotic kitchen's sink, it's as exhilirating as any animated sequence since "Fantasia." And no, I'm not exaggerating here; it's just that good.

At this point, Pixar movies, at least for me, tend to drag. For long stretches of both "Cars" and especially "Finding Nemo," I was just bored as our heroes had to learn their lessons. "Ratatouille" largely avoids this by having Remy and the human would-be chef he guides like a marionette (Lou Romano) learn by doing rather than talking about doing.

Watching Remy and his friends - who, let's not forget, are rats - take over the kitchen is more than a little unsettling, but Bird manages to inject it all with so much charm that it still goes down well (the music, a lilting, French-sounding accordion tune in almost all the restaurant sequences, helps a lot.) If kids can get past the logical (and sanitary, of course) leap of kitchen rats, and I'd imagine it would be easier than it was even for me, still very much just a big kid, what can they learn? Two things that every person should learn early in life: Paris is one of the most beautiful places on Earth and cooking is just tons of fun. Hopefully, for parents everywhere, they don't take away the idea that having a rat for a pet would be anything close to a good idea.

A quick word about the voices: I'm happy that I somehow didn't know going in that British heavyweights Ian Holm, as Skinner, the diminutive but domineering head chef at Gustave's, and Peter O'Toole, as the delightfully dour food critic Anton Ego, were on board. They're both great, and the moment when O'Toole's Ego gets his first taste of ratatouille is as close to a moment of grace since the first "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."

So, in the end, how good is "Ratatouille"? Well, Brad Bird directed my single favorite animated flick in "The Iron Giant," and I have a strong feeling that, once I see "Ratatouille" a few more times, it will hold almost as lofty a place in my heart. If you haven't seen it, do so right away.

P.S. I had planned to see "Transformers" too, but with the big smile on my face at the end of this one, I didn't want to disturb the vibe by watching giant robots battle to save the Earth. That will have to wait until Saturday.