There is an up and down of having a DVD player in your car along with large, beautiful screens that broadcast movies. We (I'm including me) love turning on movies and watching them. It becomes pretty easy. But while I drive, I can only listen to movies when they're broadcast over the speakers while Franny and Ian are free to view them in glorious full view, stereo speakers.
We hit a one week spell where Ratatouille played over and over again. There was a soliloquy that played after a critic visits the protagonists' restaurant and it surprised me in a very compelling, moving way.
As many people might tell you, I can cry at the end of virtually every movie. Frankly, I would cry at just about anything if it hit me the right way. When Brett Favre stepped onto the football field the Sunday after his father passed away, I cried. When Sarah McLaughlin sang "When Somebody Loves You" in Toy Story 2, I cried.
I listened to this monologue and thought how wonderful it was. I was on the verge of tears listening to it but I found that biting my tongue will help in that area.
"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more."
