"Ratatouille" can be a blow to the head and wake up our confused hearts.
I think the climax of the whole film started when Remy was rescued from the cage in the trunk of the car.
Dad: Where are you going?
Remy:Back to the restaurant. They'll fail without me.
Dad: Why do you care?
Remy:Because I'm a cook.
As Remy argued with Gusteau a moment ago, we are in some Pretend that we are like this in front of people, and pretend that we are like that in front of others. We seem to know who we are and what we really want. But do we really know? I think that Remy's life really started with "Because I'm a cook", so what about us.
The critic Ego ate his first bite of Ratatouille and recalled the scene when he was a little boy. The shots that add up to no more than 1 minute before and after, without any words, seemed to touch a string in my heart and arouse my soul. The resonance. In everyone's memory, there should be such inconspicuous fragments that feel warm in retrospect, and our lives are often illuminated by these inconspicuous and few fragments. When I looked up, I just saw the spine of the recently finished "Mysterious Record: The Controversy between the Moon and the Moon" on the bookshelf, with the spine printed on it: "Sometimes the so-called life-long struggle is just a profile that freezes in the depths of memory." For me, this is how the so-called good works are judged. I don't want it to be so gorgeous and prosperous or profound. The key is whether it can, like a match drawn in the dark, give the soul a touch of warmth and light when my heart is lost in the accelerating life.
Ego’s comment on Gusteau that Ego wrote in his coffin-like study may be the “big theory” that Pixar talks about in every cartoon. It's hard to match cartoons with such moving lines, many of them can be called classic sentences. With Ego's slow and composed voice, it's very moving. "Anyone can cook", well, a good topic. But this time, "Because I'm a cook" allowed me to get more from this movie.
Finally, when the green leaves were pulled aside and the music sounded, the story of the little mouse ended in the charming night of Paris. But what about our own stories, who are we, and what is the purpose of our lives? Maybe it hasn't started yet? So start now.
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