100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #130: Ratatouille (2007)
Written & Directed by Brad Bird.
Reverence. Of all virtues, reverence is what Ratatouille preaches. Love of life and an appreciation for the small things oozes from every frame of this lovingly crafted animated classic, while offering us as Catholics a feast that is more than a simple flick for the kids. Ratatouille preaches a deep respect for creation and criticism, cooking, and above all, food, which needs to be emulated more by the collective (myself included).
A belief held by iconographers and legendary filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky is that to create is to imitate God in a complementary fashion. This imitation in making windows into the divine tells us that there is just as much spirituality within creation as there is in consuming or ingesting. While I won’t necessarily address the film’s stance on criticism (seeing as it already perfectly addressed it within Anton Ego’s brilliant monologue at the end), the parallel spirituality of consumption and creation is something that is evident when viewing Ratatouille. Amid numerous high-quality quotes from Remy, his “If you are what you eat, then I only want the good stuff” line stands out as an outlier in modern culture. This view is not only most likely held by both the film’s protagonist and one of its antagonists, but by the Catholic Church as well. In fact, perhaps most would agree with this statement in some capacity with whatever their preferred artform is (If you are what you watch, then I only want the good stuff). We are, however, conditioned to settle for easy and for less in the 21st century. His father’s follow-up line of “Food is fuel…shut up and eat your garbage” seems to be more in line with the mainstream secular mindset. If what you consume has no care taken with its creation, the latter tends to apply.
As the art of making icons and the icons themselves can be observed with reverence, so can cooking and food. Food is a cornerstone of our society and of our Catholic faith. Food and its consumption are such an intimate experience that Christ himself instituted the Holy Eucharist before His Passion. The Holy Sacrament of the Altar is physical and spiritual food by design and is the summit of our Faith. Christ loves us so much that He permits us to consume Him, the most precious and sacred item on Earth, every Sunday and even every day. Christ made Himself known in the breaking of the bread, fed 5000, and made wine for others to drink for His first meal. Christ understands how important food is, and with such strong emphasis on its importance, shouldn’t we approach it as Remy does?
Food in Ratatouille is not merely something to be thrown together or scarfed down (I am admittedly guilty of being a fast eater), but an intimate experience to be savored and carefully put together. There is a distinct sacramentality with cooking and food. While a little bit of McDonald’s may be something you need to get in an emergency or a guilty pleasure every now and then, this fuel cannot compare to the sharing and healing power of a home-cooked meal from a loved one. Ego’s famous flashback after eating ratatouille effectively demonstrates this and effectively convinces even children of this idea. Cooking is an artform, and participating in the creation of food allows us to imitate Christ as He did with his disciples and as He does every Sunday. Nourishing others with the fruits of our labors in cooking brings us closer together. The character Colette even addresses this aspect of “putting oneself into a dish” as a crucial part of the cooking experience.
Remy’s passion for food does not just demonstrate itself in how well he can cook or his philosophical understanding of cooking and food, but in how he does it. Remy’s affection and deep love for food and cooking is demonstrated by his reverence towards it. He acts in a way that recognizes the goodness in what he believes in. Food and its making are the most important in his life, or at least on par with his family. He does his best to deter others from porking food down as fast as possible, but to cherish and savor it. His clear external expression of love further moves him closer to what he already loves, and even inspires others to care for it as he does. Thinking in this manner, couldn’t we apply this to the most important meal that we can consume in the Holy Eucharist? It’s one thing for us to understand that it is the True Presence of Christ, but shouldn’t we show it and savor the gift of Manna from Heaven? The reception of the Holy Sacrament should probably not be akin to receiving a Costco sample, but rather in a manner where we express our reverence for the most important thing we will ever eat. A simple but deeply moving way of demonstrating this is to receive Communion on the tongue, rather than in the hand. I invite anyone who does not to perhaps try it if you are comfortable with it, for it will change your outlook and how you approach the Eucharist.
The healing and unifying power of food is undeniable within the identity of the Church, and applies to the food outside of the Holy Mass. Aside from maybe Babette’s Feast, Ratatouille understands this better than any other film made within the past 40 years. Ian Holm’s hilarious antagonist Skinner is dedicated to impersonal and mass production, and made all the more miserable by it. He finds no satisfaction in his work, lives in constant paranoia, and wishes nothing but the worst for all others. Where even the character of Gusteau may have been obsessed too much with rating rather than the love of food (showing a creator losing himself in his work), Remy maintains his authentic love of food and cooking throughout. He is all the more happy with his work, and through his love for creation and food, heals the wounds of others damaged by a world focused on ratings and money. One could say that cooking is to Remy what iconography is to Andrei Rublev, or composing was to Brukner or Haydn. Their end products were how they helped heal and engage others, and entered more deeply into a relationship with others, consequently. To create and provide for others in this manner is to imitate Christ, and is of great need in a time when the world needs it more than ever.
Ratatouille is a simple, approachable film that reveals its riches when the layers are peeled back, teaching us profound statements on love, expression, respect, and cuisine. Reverence is an expression of our love and can underscore how we conduct ourselves in all things, and develop the sacramentality that lies within every human experience. Remy’s reverent example is one we can all follow in more areas of our lives than just food, even if he is a rat.
It just goes to show, as the film says, “Anyone can cook.”





This analysis genuinly elevates the film beyond its surface entertainment value. The conncetion between Remy's reverence for food and our approach to the Eucharist is something I hadn't considered before, but it makes perfect sense once spelled out. I grew up in a household where cooking was treated more like fuel assembly than creation, and only started appreciating that sacramental aspect in my twenties. The Tarkovsky reference about creating as imitating God really ties it together nicely.
My favorite of the Pixar movies!