The story follows a rat named Remy whose acute sense of taste and smell make him feel out of place among his fellow rodents, who are perfectly happy to dine on compost and McDonald's wrappers. Arriving at the restaurant owned by his idol, the late Chef Gusteau, Remy befriends dim-witted janitor Linguini, and the two strike up a deal in which Remy helps Linguini cook by directing him from under his chef's hat. Soon Linguini's dishes are the talk of the town, causing complications when jealous head chef Skinner starts wondering just how this "garbage boy" learned to cook so well. Though some plot points are givens--no points for guessing whether Remy will eventually be discovered, or whether Linguini will win the heart of alluring co-worker Colette--by and large, the film confutes expectations. (The fate of the spectral Anton Ego, the food critic dubbed the "Grim Eater," is especially delightful.)

For Ratatouille is a children's film that doesn't want to be a children's film. There are times when characters seem to mouth their creators' self-consciousness about the premise ("I know this sounds crazy, but . . .."). The chase scenes and even a couple of the comic moments seem tacked-on, especially a Looney Tunes-style sequence in which an old lady shoots at the rats with a rifle. The pacing of the first third of the film is a touch slow, and I imagine it will have some kids squirming in their seats. And a few adult touches--a major plot point hinges on the discovery of an illegitimate child; Skinner gets Linguini drunk on wine to try and make him spill his secret; Remy's father shows him a shop window filled with rat poison, mousetraps, and the bodies of killed rats--make the film veer close to a PG rating.

As I don't have children, I can't say how much the little ones will enjoy the film, but their parents should appreciate how this "kids'" picture avoids schmaltz and heavy-handed lesson-teaching. The film manages to be touching without treacle, and funny without resorting to "we're-too-hip-for-this-material" wisecracks or Shrek-style pop culture references.

The movie is not without its faults. Linguini is sometimes too gormless to identify with, and his romance with the sassy, incisive Colette seems forced. The amusing supporting cast gets far too little screen time. And, while not denying the movie's technical brilliance, I couldn't help but feel a sense of the uncanny while watching it. Some things--water, backgrounds, metals, pavement--looked almost photographically real, even hyper-real, while others appeared artificial. The food, ironically enough for a film about cooking, looked like something found in a child's play kitchen: cheese resembled wax, sliced onions cardboard. The human characters' skin was plasticy and toylike, while their hair, jarringly, looked real enough to touch. The same was true of the rats, whose cartoonish eyes clashed with their lifelike fur. After about an hour into the film, I stopped noticing this effect, and could just concentrate on the story, but it prevented me from getting into the plot for a good deal of the movie.

But, for the most part, I wholeheartedly recommend Ratatouille. It may not quite deserve the glowing best-film-of-2007 reviews it's been getting, but it's still a wholesome and savory treat.