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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feeling insane about the deep dream extra again. I like to make jokes about shen qingqiu seeing binghe hugging his corpse and deciding to fuck that man to qi deviation, but when I think about the emotions communicated in that moment it's so much more. shen qingqiu just got insight into a moment he wasn't around for, when binghe was grieving him so terribly, when binghe still didn't have answers for sqq's actions, when he kept reenacting a moment of nonsexual physical intimacy that left such a profound effect on his psyche
and shen qingqiu obviously can't change what happened in the past, but what he can do upon waking up is kiss binghe, press his hand to his beating heart, affirm (out loud!! a big deal for shen qingqiu!!!) that he wants him -- communicating with his actions that "I was gone then, but I'm here now, I'm alive, I won't be leaving, I love you and want you even when it hurts"
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something about how both wei wuxian and jin guangyao repeatedly say they ‘didn’t have a choice’ in their actions. in both cases, it’s not literal impossibility, instead determined by their mindsets and personal conduct…. but while for wei wuxian that means he can’t do something immoral, even if it means losing all his social power, for jin guangyao it means he can’t do anything to lose his social power, even if it means doing something immoral. the other option is still there, but it’s never one they’d pick.
something about how they’re trying to walk the same path but in opposite directions: wei wuxian willingly left the nice, broad road in favour of upholding morals and debts, while jin guangyao is trying to claw onto it and stay there by any means necessary. in both cases, being parted from it so easily is only possible because this nice, broad road — full of people whose social power is unconditional, given at birth, independent of their actions — was never truly theirs to begin with. but despite how it is possible to be forced off due to nothing, as we see with wang lingjiao, the positions of both these characters were ultimately due to actions they took.
(about how no matter the similarity of the paths, no matter the narrowness of the choices, the direction you take is still up to you.)
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Today I'm thinking about how so much of Colin's narrative speaks to the neurodivergent experience of having to pretend to be someone else as a survival mechanism. Of the pressure in masking because your real, authentic self is rejected or ignored: too weird, too quiet, too loud, too gullible, too soft-heart, too. . .everything. Too anything. And at the same time, not enough.
Colin gets excited about his travels, about his hyperfixations, talks and talks and talks about them, and no one cares. So, Colin shuts up. Colin writes letter after letter, and gets no reply. So, Colin writes in a journal just for himself. Colin tries and tries to make his family proud, tries to marry, tries courting properly, and it blows up in his face. So, Colin chooses not to date, to become a spectator. Colin is yelled at for trying to invest, so he no longer asks or talks about money, doesn't try to rock the boat in his city. Who Colin is, what he wants, ceases to matter, the fabric of him folded smaller and smaller- instead he focuses on the shell. Builds it in image of his older brothers, of the men around him. Mirrors them.
Anthony says he should have taken Colin to brothels, that he's a fool for trying to marry and his engagement blows up- Colin thus goes to brothels. Colin hops from city to city, trying on new personas like outfits, fine tuning each one. Is this it? Will this be what finally makes them accept me? Colin's appeal to the women of the ton is that he does not talk about himself- but about them. That they're wearing beautiful dresses, that surely they'll find husbands. Separating himself from them- cannot tell them of his travels, that he's not the brave one, it was everyone working together to help with the balloon.
Deflect. Never centered. Colin exists on the outskirts as Pen does, he's just hypervisible for his exterior, and invisible otherwise. His charm is that he pleases those around him. His wounds are that the truest version of him cannot accomplish that. Thus, he becomes hyperaware of what his impact is, first to apologize and last to be forgiven. Living for the approval of others is a trap. He knows. He's fallen into it, a bear claw around his ankles.
He feels like the only way he's worthwhile is if he's providing something for someone. An apology, or comfort, or ease, compliments or winks, a laugh or a distraction, good looks or a fantasy. Providing a happy life for Pen by stepping out of the way, his own needs secondary. It's being there for his mum for an escort or a soft heart to heart. It's taking Anthony's disappointment in him and being indulgent to Eloise's insults. It's giving Benedict his special tea and saying hardly anything about why he bought it in the first place. Bringing gifts to family members who did not write back to him as he wandered the world, alone. It's sticking his neck out for Penelope with Jack, it's providing a dance or a rescue or a good time, checking on Marina to make sure she's alive and okay, listening to Phillip. Colin isn't at all comfortable being himself, the himself that is messy, so he covers it in the himself that is useful.
But what he does, what he provides other people, is not his actual worth. He thinks he's being altruistic by stepping aside and languishing in his feelings for Pen, believing she'll be happier in the future with Debling, waiting and waiting and waiting, until that candle burns out and he's at the 11th hour- and when he snaps and goes after her, when he cuts into her dance, when he runs for her in that carriage, he makes a choice for himself that he thinks, in some way, is selfish.
But it isn't. It's what she wants, too. And there's something beautiful in the fact that with Penelope, his being real, what he thinks is so difficult and unwanted, is actually giving her what she has desired all along. They both find fulfillment and contentment in his unmasking. Penelope never wanted the shell. She saw what was beneath it. She loves what's beneath it.
And I think there's something. . .healing, in that narrative. That us ND peeps who mask as a means of fitting in- that will never bring us happiness. Not really. That it didn't bring Colin happiness.
His arc is realizing that he should be his true, authentic self, and that love will bloom from it. And it does.
I don't know. I think I can learn something from that. I think I'm going to carry that with me for a while.
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