I, like many Gen Yers, find Disney movies deeply comforting. When I am sick (like now with my stuffed sinuses and various allergic reactions to the entire world), there is nothing better than lying in bed, equipped with a mug of tea and a box of tissues, watching some fantastic movie designed for 8 year olds.
It won't surprise anybody that I love Ratatouille. From the basic but oh so satisfying low-status protagonist saves the day and becomes an important figure in the community through-line and the affirmation of the legitimacy of cultural critics to the themes of unabashed love of good food and adventure and just plain being yourself, I love everything about it. I also love how accurate the kitchen is- from the job descriptions to the copper pots, from the various personalities to the layout of the space, Ratatouille is spot-on. This startlingly clear glimpse into fine dining is definitely the product of good research- really, the best. Amazing, national cuisine-changing, "Top Chef" guest judging, French Laundry geniusing Chef Thomas Keller was their consultant. Geek out with me, people!
But why, oh why, would I want to watch a movie about a restaurant kitchen when today was a miserably gruelling day of work and I don't feel good?
My guess is it's good, old-fashioned wish-fulfillment. In this film I see a world I already inhabit. But in this glorious version, I never get yelled at, ignored, burned, bumped, ripped off, or pissed off. And rats can cook.
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