A lot of incoherent rambling disguised as an essay.
So very recently I realized that in playing Remy post-movie I practically forgot about Gusteau. In short, Gusteau was Remy's imaginary friend, based off the real, deceased Chef Gusteau, who Remy created as a coping mechanism for someone to talk to when he was separated from his family in the Paris sewers. (He's also created so Remy has some actual dialogue for the portion of the movie where he's on his own.) Now while Remy is no longer in need of his imaginary friend, this was a critical omission that must be essayed on.
...and I'll do that later, because that's not what that essay is about.
I've made no secret of what Remy's first camp virus is going to be, but I have yet to go through with it because I really need to go over what this means for Remy, his own self-awareness-- and the very last scene he has with imaginary!Gusteau is very, very telling about his state of mind. It's also his Shakespearean "I am" moment, so it's pretty important.
The scene in question is when Remy's been caged up by Skinner the Conniving Head Chef at the worst possible time, and is stuck alone in a cage, and sulking while imaginary!Gusteau gently nudges him about giving up. Remy finally gets fed up:
"Oh, please. I'm sick of pretending. I pretend to be a rat for my father. I pretend to be a human through Linguini. I pretend you exist so I have someone to talk to! You only tell me stuff I already know! I know who I am! Why do I need you to tell me? Why do I need to pretend?"
"But you don't, Remy," imaginary!Gusteau replies. "You never did."
That whole exchange sums up a lot of the issues Remy has throughout the movie. See, Remy doesn't necessarily want to be human. Oh, he's intrigued by the human world, the desire to create, and wants to be part of it, but... he doesn't want to change who he is in order to do that. Really, he can zip around a kitchen on his own; the pretense with Linguini allows him to cook without human society coming after him. And he isn't pretending to be a rat for his father so much as pretending to be what his father thinks a rat should be.
And what Gusteau-- or rather, Remy's own subconscious-- helps him realize is that he shouldn't have to change who he is, because being a cook is part of that. Remy self-identifies himself shortly afterwards, justifying why he's returning to the restaurant: "Because I'm a cook!" Not a rat, or a human, but a cook-- something that for him transcends species.
Remy doesn't want to pretend to be something else in order to be a cook, and he embraces that idea fearlessly (not to mention recklessly, because if not for Linguini he'd be a smear on the tile). Now, embracing this completely is obviously not practical back in Paris. I'm sure that while the staff of La Ratatouille are all aware that their head chef is a rat, this is a small staff (you notice that it's a bistro, not the grand operation that was Gusteau's) and that knowledge does not leave the kitchen. (They probably just tell people that the head chef is so eccentric he refuses to show his face, and Ego has enough clout to keep people satisfied with that.) It's another story on the roof of the restaurant, the rat section, and that in itself is enough to make Remy happy. His family accepts him, he's not pretending to be something else, and he's doing what he loves best.
Also, despite wanting to be part of that human world, Remy does not want to lose his connection with his family. He already nearly lost them for good once, and despite knowing it was wrong, he still allowed them to steal from Gusteau's because, well, they were family. And I think he was scared he'd lose them again if he turned them away. Just because he couldn't stand their lifestyle doesn't mean he couldn't stand them. Really. If that was the case, he wouldn't have gone out of his way to try to convince his Dad to see other perspectives, or try to instruct Emile about food in the first place.
I'm sure, however, that Remy has idly wondered every so often how much easier it would be if he were human. He gets why everyone in camp WTFs at the notion of a cooking rat, really. He does. But I'm pretty sure he abides by Izumi's sanitary conditions down to the letter; Remy is willing to work really hard for something if he wants it that badly. So it does kind of sting when people go "OMG THAT'S NOT SANITARY" when they realize he cooks. It would be nice not to be second-guessed at every turn. Sure, he could just not mention that he cooks, but... again, that's pretending to be something he's not. So he risks getting that reaction from everyone he meets in camp. And it's starting to chafe a little bit.
In Camp, separated from his family and his restaurant, Remy is starting to wonder again what it would be like to be human. Not enough to start imagining Gusteau again-- he has plenty of campers to talk to-- but the old doubts are resurfacing. So he won't necessarily be dismayed at first. In the end, though, he's really only going to be happy as a rat chef. Not just one or the other.
Besides, aside from the appreciation of fine food and art and creating and what have you, humans make no sense at all.
And this ramble probably only made sense to me but THAT'S OKAY because I'll need it later for my own reference. EDITED slightly to add a few more things.
...and I'll do that later, because that's not what that essay is about.
I've made no secret of what Remy's first camp virus is going to be, but I have yet to go through with it because I really need to go over what this means for Remy, his own self-awareness-- and the very last scene he has with imaginary!Gusteau is very, very telling about his state of mind. It's also his Shakespearean "I am" moment, so it's pretty important.
The scene in question is when Remy's been caged up by Skinner the Conniving Head Chef at the worst possible time, and is stuck alone in a cage, and sulking while imaginary!Gusteau gently nudges him about giving up. Remy finally gets fed up:
"Oh, please. I'm sick of pretending. I pretend to be a rat for my father. I pretend to be a human through Linguini. I pretend you exist so I have someone to talk to! You only tell me stuff I already know! I know who I am! Why do I need you to tell me? Why do I need to pretend?"
"But you don't, Remy," imaginary!Gusteau replies. "You never did."
That whole exchange sums up a lot of the issues Remy has throughout the movie. See, Remy doesn't necessarily want to be human. Oh, he's intrigued by the human world, the desire to create, and wants to be part of it, but... he doesn't want to change who he is in order to do that. Really, he can zip around a kitchen on his own; the pretense with Linguini allows him to cook without human society coming after him. And he isn't pretending to be a rat for his father so much as pretending to be what his father thinks a rat should be.
And what Gusteau-- or rather, Remy's own subconscious-- helps him realize is that he shouldn't have to change who he is, because being a cook is part of that. Remy self-identifies himself shortly afterwards, justifying why he's returning to the restaurant: "Because I'm a cook!" Not a rat, or a human, but a cook-- something that for him transcends species.
Remy doesn't want to pretend to be something else in order to be a cook, and he embraces that idea fearlessly (not to mention recklessly, because if not for Linguini he'd be a smear on the tile). Now, embracing this completely is obviously not practical back in Paris. I'm sure that while the staff of La Ratatouille are all aware that their head chef is a rat, this is a small staff (you notice that it's a bistro, not the grand operation that was Gusteau's) and that knowledge does not leave the kitchen. (They probably just tell people that the head chef is so eccentric he refuses to show his face, and Ego has enough clout to keep people satisfied with that.) It's another story on the roof of the restaurant, the rat section, and that in itself is enough to make Remy happy. His family accepts him, he's not pretending to be something else, and he's doing what he loves best.
Also, despite wanting to be part of that human world, Remy does not want to lose his connection with his family. He already nearly lost them for good once, and despite knowing it was wrong, he still allowed them to steal from Gusteau's because, well, they were family. And I think he was scared he'd lose them again if he turned them away. Just because he couldn't stand their lifestyle doesn't mean he couldn't stand them. Really. If that was the case, he wouldn't have gone out of his way to try to convince his Dad to see other perspectives, or try to instruct Emile about food in the first place.
I'm sure, however, that Remy has idly wondered every so often how much easier it would be if he were human. He gets why everyone in camp WTFs at the notion of a cooking rat, really. He does. But I'm pretty sure he abides by Izumi's sanitary conditions down to the letter; Remy is willing to work really hard for something if he wants it that badly. So it does kind of sting when people go "OMG THAT'S NOT SANITARY" when they realize he cooks. It would be nice not to be second-guessed at every turn. Sure, he could just not mention that he cooks, but... again, that's pretending to be something he's not. So he risks getting that reaction from everyone he meets in camp. And it's starting to chafe a little bit.
In Camp, separated from his family and his restaurant, Remy is starting to wonder again what it would be like to be human. Not enough to start imagining Gusteau again-- he has plenty of campers to talk to-- but the old doubts are resurfacing. So he won't necessarily be dismayed at first. In the end, though, he's really only going to be happy as a rat chef. Not just one or the other.
Besides, aside from the appreciation of fine food and art and creating and what have you, humans make no sense at all.
And this ramble probably only made sense to me but THAT'S OKAY because I'll need it later for my own reference. EDITED slightly to add a few more things.