Ratatouille, Warts and Paintball Welts

While the rest of the nation simply watches their summer drift away, waiting for Labor Day, Utah celebrates Pioneer Day on July 24th. The holiday plays almost like a repeat of Independence Day, with barbeques, fireworks, parades, and other forms of summer recreation. At any rate, it’s another great excuse to get out of work and do crazy stuff before the summer is finished. This year’s Pioneer Day was no exception.

I started off by catching Ratatouille, which, if you’ve been following my blog since June, I predicted would be the best movie of the summer, you might remember. In short, I was not disappointed, my prediction affirmed. This movie is flat-out gorgeous. With the barrage of movies that have hit the cinema this summer, overblown, F/X epics, pea-brained animated flicks, and unfunny comedies, Ratatouille is a huge breath of fresh air, so far away from its so-called competition in quality, maturity, and richness that to classify it as one of the summer breed would just seem… wrong.

That’s not to say that Ratatouille is without its flaws. It is not better than, say, The Incredibles, in terms of character, humor, or mad-cap action. The characters do not blend into each other or attract us as effortlessly as past Pixar creations have. But what it lacks in characters it makes up for in pure, infectious love for its subjects: namely, cooking, Paris, and rats.

This love literally resonates from every meticulously rendered surface, from every carefully animated movement. No CG animation studio out there even comes close to this kind of atmosphere. In one scene where Remy, the main protagonist, scurries through a Parisian apartment and emerges at the roof, bursting onto a stunning panorama of night-time Paris, my jaw literally dropped. And the film never relents in its pursuit of that same rich vibrance.

Honestly, there are very few laugh out loud moments, the interests are mundane. But just from the sheer daring of Pixar in creating something so lovingly crafted, so mature, so not Surf’s Up or Shrek, without annoying jabbering sidekicks, mind-numbing potty jokes, or over-reliance on pop culture satire, I left the theater with a smile on my face and an inexplicable fondness for fine cuisine and Paris (this is a miracle in and of itself: I am not a French fan at all. Got a D- in high school French…). A few people with me complained that it was not as good as Incredibles or other Pixar films. Personally, I think it’s unfair to compare it to other Pixar films. Not every movie can be The Incredibles. That’s like saying that Kobe Bryant isn’t any good because he isn’t as good as Michael Jordan.

Rather, we would do well to compare Ratatouille to its current competition. There can be no denying that Ratatouille, as genuine movie magic art, rises and shines above anything else in current release. I still say it’s the best movie of the summer.

Anyway, after catching Ratatouille, I went paintballing with some crazy farm kids, hardcore paintball fanatics. In short, I rarely got a shot off on anyone else, but I did walk away with some of the best injuries of the game. The first came as a paintball from a high-powered gun found its way under my mask and tagged me on the chin. Blood and yellow paint splattered all over the inside of my mask, which, I imagine, must have looked pretty cool. In a later round, a ball found that soft spot on my inner thigh, leaving a plum-colored, “O”-shaped bruise. It was beauty, but I was just glad I hardly felt it. The last came in our last round of play. I was out of balls. My buddy was waiting behind me, ready to fire. I spotted a ball on the ground, made a dash for it, bent over to pick it up, and POW! I got stung right up where no paintball should ever go. So I turned around, loaded, and nailed my buddy from 5 yards away. I’m sure he felt that… Male bonding is a strange thing.

After going home and licking my wounds, I concluded the holiday by getting five warts on my right foot cut or frozen off. Let me tell you: it hurt like a mammajamma! Everything hurt, from the anesthetics to shaving off the tops of the warts with a scalpel to searing them with a pressurized stream of liquid nitrogen. The bright side of it all: I get to wear flip flops to work. My office mates are all envious. The down side: I have to tell everyone I had warts. Nobody wants to touch a guy with warts. I think deep down inside, they still harbor that schoolyard stigma that warts come from frogs or being dirty or whatever. They can think whatever they want. At least I get to wear flip flops…

How was your weekend? Anyone catch Ratatouille? Anyone out there celebrate Pioneer Day? Anyone out there have warts? If you do, don’t touch me…

Why Ratatouille will be the best movie of the summer

At risk of sounding overly simplistic, I want to predict that Pixar’s Ratatouille (coming to theaters this Friday, June 22) will be the best movie of the summer simply because it is a Pixar movie. Okay, not just because it’s a Pixar film. It’s helmed by Incredibles director Brad Bird. Now that pretty much seals the deal. You see, in my thirty years of being a film nut, I have learned that, almost without exception, actors will let you down, special effects studios will disappoint, and screenwriters can be pretty inconsistent. But you follow directors, and you can be pretty sure of what you’ll get. Take, for instance, Brad Bird: directed the underrated Iron Giant and then (que fanfare…) directed The Incredibles, one of the greatest superhero movies of all time.

I became an instant fan after stumbling out of the theater, mumbling, “That was the freakin’ awesomest movie ever.” Or so my wife says. I can’t be sure, my mind was blown. The movie was an astounding technical achievement, a touchingly believable family story, and a rocking, high-octane action trip. All of that wrapped into a PG-rated “kids” movie. Basically, I went home and made a secret oath to Mr. Bird: “Brad Bird, I will follow you to any movie theater. If you make a movie about talking pretzel crumbs who inhabit a truck driver’s seat cushion, I will be there. If you make a movie about grass growing, I’ll be there.” Suffice it to say, Brad Bird propelled himself to the pantheon of great directors in my book, to sit alongside the likes of Spielberg and Peter Jackson.

Is it any wonder then that I am so quick to bestow the title of best summer film on his next release, without even having seen it? Maybe. Call it faith. Call it some kind of connection to the way the man thinks. If you’ve seen his featurettes on the Incredibles DVD, you get a feeling for the way he takes a story and characters, breaks them down, understands them, puts them together, and fine tunes them into one hotrod of a story. He is a disciplined, empathetic storyteller, first and foremost, unlike so many of the other animators inhabiting the marketplace today who are mere vendors of cheap, loud, and quick gags and clichéd characters. Because of that discipline, that attention to the process, Brad Bird cannot create the same kind of crap that recently washed up on shore. He is simply above it.

A look at Ratatouille’s trailers shows only more of the same original, rich, envelope-pushing magic from Mr. Bird. I love the fact that he didn’t go for another slam-bang action story but that he has chosen instead to turn his disciplined eye on a smaller tale about rats and fine cuisine. It assures that his attention is on what matters- the story and the characters-, not on delivering a bigger explosion or a more eye-popping special effect. That’s not to say that Ratatouille will be without Bird’s inventive action scenes; in fact, early reviews report that it has plenty of awe- and laughter-inducing action. It’s only to say that Bird will deliver on all fronts.

Does that seem like too simplistic a way to evaluate movies, especially before they’re released? Not in this case. There are very few filmmakers nowadays in whom we can rely for a winner every time; I believe that Brad Bird is one of those.

Do you think that Ratatouille will be the summer’s best film? Can we tell without even having seen it? Have you also taken the Brad Bird oath (please tell me I’m not alone)? Throw in your two cents!

On being unimpressed...

Call me picky. Heck, you can even call me high-minded, artsy, or overly critical when it comes to movies and TV. For some it's just entertainment. That's fine. For me, however, when you sink hundreds of millions of dollars into production and then hundreds of millions more into convincing the world that it will be worth it, make sure the movie you make is worth it, for pete sake! Way too many movies as of late fall far short of their expected return.

Although the majority of summer movies could fall into this sad category, I am speaking specifically of those two most recent megaliths: Spiderman 3 and Pirates 3. Their budgets eclipse those of the last Star Wars movies or Titanic, which, for its time, was borderline insane. Why is it that they can buy the most elaborate special effects sequences known to man in post-production but seem to skimp on the screenplay in pre-production? The result is like a body builder's muscles on a weak, brittle-boned skeleton.

Don't get me wrong- I ooh and aah at those mindblowing sequences that every now and then take us somewhere we haven't been before. Peter Jackson has a knack for conjuring those kinds of images. Spielberg does, too. The Wachowski's took a quantum leap with a single new shooting technique. These images summon those feelings of awe, dread, or glory that the best movies have always delivered. But it isn't the high-technology of the shot alone that conveys those feelings- in fact, it mostly isn't. The effects have to sit squarely on an awesome story. Honestly, the most expensive FX sequences have failed to deliver.

One glaring example of this was the crane disaster sequence in Spidey 3. It was bigger than any building rescue scene we've seen so far in the trilogy. The FX were more seamless than ever. Spidey had more obstacles to surmount. There were people screaming and webs slinging. So why did it feel so empty? Because it existed for its own sake.

What does this imply about the studios' opinion of their audience? I can picture those studio execs sitting in the screening room, chomping on the finest Cubans, saying, "Oh, yeah, the story! I heard those are good to have. But what I think people really want to see is bigger explosions, bigger dinosaurs, bigger tidal waves." That's when another exec guffaws, "People aren't patient enough for a story. Hurry throw another FX scene in there before they realize we don't have real characters!" Moviegoers want a longterm love affair with their movies; the studios are giving us one night stands. Dramatic drops in ticket sales after opening weekends indicate this.

So pardon me if I seem unimpressed. It's not just because I am becoming prematurely crotchety. Occasionally, movies do come along that still blow my mind. Return of the King blew my mind. Spiderman 2 took me for a ride. King Kong blew my mind. Some parts of War of the Worlds blew my mind. I have every finger crossed that Transformers blows my mind. Will I be disappointed? Only time will tell. Given Michael Bay's record for visuals and ADHD editing before story and characterization, I may need more fingers to cross. As far as satisfaction, I am betting on Pixar's Ratatouille to give me the most bang for my buck.