Ratatouille would have been a better and potentially much more interesting story if Remy had partnered with Collette instead of Linguini. Two underdogs with talent and passion forced to maintain a dangerous ruse. Fiercely independent Collette giving up temporary control of her body to a creature who, despite the insanity of a rat wanting to cook professionally, she can relate to on a personal level and who she does want to teach. The inner conflict of wondering if Remy’s growing talents are eclipsing her own, if the praise their food is earning belongs more to him than to her. Her guilt over feeling resentment and jealousy towards this little guy who wouldn’t have a hope of realizing his talents if not for her trust and protection. Both of them unraveling the mystery of that sweet but bumbling kitchen boy with the obvious crush on Collette being Gusteau’s secret son, and working together to thwart the new evil owner’s plans to stop Linguini from claiming his birthright. The message of the movie not being this weird, almost smug “some people are born with talent, some people aren’t, and that’s how being a ~great artist~ works”, but something more like, “if you have a dream, you deserve to pursue it, and be supported and encouraged in your pursuit of it, even if other people tell you that, because of some intrinsic aspect of yourself or the circumstances you were born in (like being a human woman in the restaurant industry, or being a literal rat), you have no place pursuing this dream. Also, raw talent can only get you so far, and skill and passion existing in the right balance is key.” I’ve been thinking about this for seventeen years. I’m breaking my silence
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kon: the first problem with gotham is that the entire city has seasonal depression.
kon: and the second problem is that the ‘season’ is the entire fucking year.
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the great irony of early one piece antagonists believing zoro was the actual captain and using luffy as a puppet ... oda really threw us a bone and curb-stomped it right in our faces. yes, zoro could be a captain in his own right. yes, zoro could match luffy in strength. yes, zoro knows this perfectly well. and you know what? he chose luffy two years ago, and he will continue to choose luffy again and again. roronoa zoro, the pirate hunter, who followed a wannabe pirate with a nonexistent crew on a whim because luffy brought him his swords and made a half-assed attempt at a bargain. zoro, who made a vow to never lose again on both his and luffy's honor. zoro, who told luffy he'd make him commit harakiri if he got in the way of zoro's goal, only to turn around and be willing to sacrifice his dream if it means that luffy reaches his. zoro, who stood in place and took luffy's pain and told a warlord to take his head instead of luffy's, who got down on his knees before his supposed rival and begged mihawk to mentor him so that he could return strong enough to protect his captain. zoro, who has conqueror's haki- a natural born leader- but chooses to stay at the right hand of a man he has deemed greater than himself.
and the thing that luffy fears most? being alone. being rejected. being left behind. and what should have been his foil- the pirate hunter to his pirate king, the nonbeliever to his divine, the king of hell to his sun god- instead becomes his first and most devout follower; the one who demands to follow him to hell and back. oughhhggg i'm sick to my stomach
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I just read a detailed account of the Bal des Ifs and I’d never realised how funny this event was when you don’t focus on Madame de Pompadour. All I was taught at school is that it was the masquerade ball in 1745 where Louis XV first took (public) notice of la Pompadour, but what I didn’t know was that the former royal mistress had recently died so there was a vacancy so to speak, and a lot of noblewomen showed up specifically hoping to catch the King’s attention.
But he came dressed up as a shrub (a yew tree similar to the ones in the royal topiary gardens) along with seven other men in identical costumes, so no one knew for sure which one was the King. People always focus on how Madame de Pompadour recognised the royal shrub and talked to him, but what about the women who didn’t!! History is written by the winners but I want to hear about the women who doggedly danced the minuet with random shrubs hoping this one was the one. My book mentions that a determined noble lady followed a yew tree outside the room on a hunch, only to find that she had bet on the wrong shrub. This is what the shrub costumes looked like by the way, imagine stalking one all over the park of Versailles at night because you think his gait looks kingly and you are an ambitious noblewoman
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