[incomplete & unfixed/messed]
A TELEVISION SET -tuned to a DOCUMENTARY. As an old fashioned World GLOBE rotates in a sea of clouds, the EIFFEL TOWER slowly comes into view over the horizon, dwarfing FRANCE underneath it.
T.V. NARRATOR: Although each of the world’s countries would like to dispute this fact, we French know the truth; the best food in the World is made in France. The best food in France is made in Paris, and the best food in Paris, some say, is made by Chef Auguste Gusteau.
We see images of GUSTEAU: cooking, signing his cookbook, in front of his famous restaurant. Gusteau is in his early forties, but his massive girth makes him look older.
T.V. NARRATOR (CONT’D): Gusteau’s restaurant is the toast of Paris, booked five months in advance, and his dazzling ascent to the top of Fine French Cuisine has made his competitors envious. He is the youngest Chef ever to achieve a five star rating. Chef Gusteau’s cookbook “Anyone Can Cook!” has climbed to the top of the bestseller list. But not everyone celebrates its success.
A tall, gaunt, severe-looking MAN with fish-belly white skin appears on the TV screen. SUPER: ANTON EGO-FOOD CRITIC. Beneath that, in italics, is his moniker: The Grim Eater.
EGO: Amusing title, “Anyone Can Cook”. What’s even more amusing is that Gusteau actually seems to believe it. I, on the other hand, take cooking seriously and no-- I don’t think “anyone” can do it...
TITLES (OVER BLACK):
The SOUND of wind rattling barren branches...
WALT DISNEY PICTURES PRESENTS
A PIXAR ANIMATION STUDIOS FILM
...and we FADE IN to reveal:
FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE - LATE AFTERNOON
A light rain falls on a SMALL FARMHOUSE. The last remaining dead leaves tremble in the gusts. The quiet is shattered by a LOUD GUNSHOT that lights up the inside of the cottage. CAMERA pushes down and in toward a single window.
As we move closer, we begin to hear muffled SOUNDS OF STRUGGLE; furniture being bumped, dishes breaking, an indescribable CRASH, followed by an OLD LADY’S SHRIEK. We’re close to the WINDOW now, when it is suddenly SHATTERED by a COOKBOOK. Instantly the action FREEZES. Underneath its splayed pages, shielding himself from the shards of splintering glass is, inexplicably, a RAT, named REMY. He’s scrawny, frightened, almost comic. It’s hard not
to feel sympathetic towards the little guy.
REMY (V.O.): This is me. I think it’s apparent I need to rethink my life a little bit. What’s my problem? First of all-
OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE - DUSK - WEEKS EARLIER
A SILHOUETTE darts out from behind a wooden barrel, pausing upright against a blood red sky. Mangy, sinister, the opposite of Remy. This is how most humans see RATS.
REMY (V.O., CONT'D): --I’m a rat. Which means life is hard.
Assured the coast is clear, the SINISTER RAT scampers out into the yard, followed by DOZENS MORE RATS. The RATS move across the expanse of grass toward a COMPOST HEAP, which sits in the middle of a field under the darkening sky. Resourceful and well coordinated, the rats grab bits of decomposing food and carry it off. REMY is among them, drearily going through garbage.
REMY (V.O.): And secondly-- I have a highly developed sense of taste and smell.
Suddenly he catches a SCENT; which leads him to uncover a nearly untouched piece of PASTRY, a discarded NAPOLEON.
REMY: (sniffing Napoleon) Flour, eggs, sugar, vanilla bean, small twist of lemon...
The Napoleon suddenly erupts, and out pops Remy’s pudgy brother EMILE, covered in cream and completely oblivious to the destruction he’s wrought.
EMILE: You can smell all that? Wow. You have a gift.
Again the ACTION FREEZES.
REMY (V.O.): This is Emile. My brother. He’s easily impressed.
RESUME ACTION: An older rat, Remy's father, DJANGO, comes into view. He snorts dismissively, plucks an APPLE CORE from the compost.
DJANGO: So you can smell ingredients. So what?
REMY (V.O.): This is my Dad. He’s never impressed. He also happens to be the leader of our clan.
Remy catches another scent and FROWNS; this new scent is different somehow, wrong. He follows the scent to Django
REMY (V.O.): So what’s wrong with having highly developed senses?
Django is about to eat the APPLE CORE when Remy lunges at him, snatching the core from his hands.
REMY: Whoa, whoa, whoa! DON’T EAT THAT!!
DJANGO: What's going on here?
SHED - MINUTES LATER
Still holding the APPLE CORE, Remy sniffs the air, following a scent to a tarp in the corner. He lifts it, REVEALING: a can of RAT POISON. The other rats REACT. Django’s impressed.
Turns out that funny smell was rat poison. Suddenly Dad didn’t think my talent was useless. I was feeling pretty good about my gift. Until Dad gave me a job…
- FARMHOUSE - COMPOST PILE - DAY
A line of rats file past REMY, holding up rotted scraps of food so that each one passes under his nose.
REMY (V.O.,CONT’): …that’s right… “poison checker”.
As Remy sniffs with all the gusto of a lifelong DMV employee, the line shuffles forward with each “clean”.
REMY: (sniffs before each one) Clean... clean... clean-erino... cleaneriffic... close to Godliness--
The rat under inspection stands there, unsure as to whether or not he’s been approved.
REMY (CONT’D): --which means “clean”. You know-- “Cleanliness is... close to--?” (no response)
Remy waits, expecting the rat to get his joke. Beat.
...never mind. Move on...
The rat moves on. Remy rolls resumes his bored inspection.
INSIDE ATTIC - LATE AFTERNOON
Django & Remy stand on a beat-up chair, overlooking the rat
clan as they go about their day.
Well, it made my Dad proud.
Now don’t you feel better, Remy?
You’ve helped a noble cause.
Noble? We’re thieves, Dad. And what
we’re stealing is-- let’s face it,
It isn’t stealing if no one wants
If no one wants it, why are we
They continue to quarrel. It’s clear this is an old argument.
Let’s just say we have different
points of view.
ATTIC - NIGHT
Django and Emile are gobbling up an assortment of RUBBISH,
which is in fact dinner. REMY watches them, appalled. He
looks down at his own plate in disgust.
REMY (V.O., CONT’D)
This much I knew: if you are what
you eat, then I only want to eat
the good stuff.
He pushes the rotted food away. Django reacts.
But to my Dad--
Food is fuel. You get picky about
what you put in the tank, your
engine is gonna die. Now shut up
and eat your garbage.
If we’re going to be thieves, why
not steal the good stuff in the
kitchen? Where nothing is poisoned.
First of all; we are NOT thieves.
Secondly; Stay out of the kitchen
and away from the humans. It’s
OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE - DUSK
Remy watches the farmhouse, drawn to the warm light and the
sounds emanating from inside.
I know I’m supposed to hate humans.
But there’s something about them...
FARMHOUSE - KITCHEN
Remy carefully sneaks into the kitchen.
REMY (V.O., CONT’)
...they don’t just survive, they
discover, they create. Just look at
what they do with food.
The TV is tuned to the same show we saw in the opening. CHEF
GUSTEAU is cooking, speaking to the camera. Remy watches.
GUSTEAU (ON T.V.)
Good food is like music you can
taste, color you can smell. There
is excellence all around you. You
need only be aware to stop and
Remy notices a leftover plate of FRUITS & CHEESES. He picks
up a small slice of cheese and takes a bite.
Gusteau was right. Each flavor was
As Remy closes his eyes his surroundings FADE TO BLACK. A
amorphus COLORED SHAPE appears above his head accompanied by
a cello bass line.
REMY (V.O., CONT’)
Oh, yeah. Amazing. But... combine
one flavor with another--
Cheese still in his mouth, Remy takes a bite of the
-and something new was created.
New COLORED SHAPES and musical signatures appear; swirling
and dancing in harmony with the others.
A light SNAPS ON, breaking the spell. The OLD LADY has
awakened. Remy drops the food and scampers away.
FIELD - DAY
Remy follows a pleasant scent in the air. It leads him to a
So now I had a secret life. The
only one who knew about it was
BEHIND THE FARM HOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON
Emile is atop a full garbage can, rooting around under the
lid. Remy calls up from the tall grass below.
Emile! Psst- hey, Emile--!
Emile looks up, holding the remains of a brown-bag lunch.
Look! I found a mushroom! Come on,
you’re good at hiding food, help me
find a good place to put this!
GRASSY FIELD - LATE AFTERNOON
Remy and Emile walk together; Emile on all fours, dragging
the enormous bag he grips between his teeth, while Remy walks
upright, carefully cradling his mushroom.
He doesn’t under-stand me, but I
can be myself around him...
Why are you walking like that?
I don’t want to constantly have to
wash my paws. Do you ever think
about how we walk on the same paws
that we handle food with? Do you
ever think about what we put into
All the time.
When I eat, I don’t want to taste
everywhere my paws have been.
Well, okay. But if Dad sees you
walking like that... he’s not gonna
Remy SNIFFS Emile’s BAG. His eyes LIGHT UP.
What have you got there?
He disappears into the bag, RIFLES through it, emerging with--
Cheese?? You found CHEESE? And not
just any cheese- Tomme De Chevre de
Pays! That would go beautifully
with my mushroom!! And! And and andHe
sniffs the air, quickly finds a plant nearby. He PLUCKS it
from the ground, his excitement growing by the second.
--this rosemary!! With, maybe with--
He grabs a paw full of grass from the ground, tasting the
milky base. Smiling, he squeezes a few drops on the mushroom.
-a few drops from this sweet grass!
Well... throw it on the pile I
guess, and we’ll--
We don’t want to throw this in with
the garbage! This is special!
But we gotta return to the colony
before sundown or Dad’s gonna--
Emile! There are possibilities
unexplored here. We’ve gotta cook
this! Now, exactly how we cook this
is the real questi--
Remy STOPS, his gaze locking on the SMOKING CHIMNEY atop the
farmhouse roof. He GRINS.
--ooooohh yeah. Come on!
ROOFTOP - LATER
Remy has skewered the mushroom and cheese onto part of the TV
antennae, which he has bent over the smoking chimney top,
hand turning it like a rotisserie.
The key is to keep turning it, get
the smoky flavor nice and even...
Lightning flickers in the far distance, followed a moment
later by a RUMBLE of thunder. Emile watches, concerned.
That storm’s getting closer. Hey,
you think that maybe we shouldn’t--
KRAAAK!!! A BOLT OF LIGHTNING hits the TV antennae-- knocking
both rats off the rooftop. They make a LONG FALL, landing
with a THUD into a the soft dirt.
Miraculously, Remy and Emile are alive, their smoking fur
sticks out in an electrified frazzle. Remy holds the rod up,
keeping the cheesy mushroom-- now transformed by lightning
into an amazing, puffed out shape-- completely clean.
(idly bites mushroom)
...ohmmmmmnnn you gotta taste
this!!! It’s got this kind of--
--burny, melty-- it’s not really a
smoky flavor, it’s a certain-- it’s
kind of like a--
(makes a sound effect)
--it’s got a--
--kind of taste, don’t you think?
What would you call that flavor?
Yeah! It’s LIGHTNING-Y! We’ve gotta
do that AGAIN! Okay. When the next
storm comes we’ll go up on the roofRemy’s
eyes suddenly go BLANK with a pre-emptive thought.
I KNOW WHAT THIS NEEDS! Saffron! a
little saffron would MAKE THIS!
Saffron. Why do I get the
REMY & EMILE
--it’s in the kitchen.
FARMHOUSE KITCHEN - MINUTES LATER
Emile frets, looking nervously at the old lady, still fast
asleep in front of the TV. Remy RUMMAGES through her spices.
Saffron... saffron... hmn...
Not good. Don’t like it. She’s
gonna wake up.
I’ve been down here a million
times. She turns on the cooking
channel-- boom. Never wakes up.
You’ve been here a million times??
I’m telling ya, saffron’ll be just
the thing. Gusteau swears by it.
Okay, who’s Gusteau?
Remy pushes aside some COOKBOOKS, revealing a well-worn copy
of “AUGUST GUSTEAU’S ANYONE CAN COOK!” on the shelf.
Wait-- you.... read?
Well, not... excessively.
Oh, man. Does dad know?
You could fill a book-- a LOT of
books-- with things dad doesn’t
know. And they have. Which is why I
Which is also our secret.
He resumes rummaging through the spices. Emile FRETS.
I don’t like secrets. All this
cooking and reading and TV watching
while we read and cook. It’s like
you’re involving me in crime. And I
let you. Why do I let you?
FARMHOUSE ATTIC - SAME MOMENT
RATS stream in from a crack in the wall, throwing food from
the compost pile on to a heap. DJANGO is at the center,
overseeing things. He turns away, distracted--
What’s taking those kids so long?
RESUME KITCHEN - REMY AND EMILE
Remy locates a tiny vial of saffron, holds it up.
Ah. Aquila saffron. Italian.
Gusteau says it’s excellent. Good
thing the old lady is a food lov--
Something on the TV attracts Remy’s attention; the great Chef
Gusteau is being interviewed.
--hey! That’s Gusteau! Emile, look--
Great cooking is not for the faint
of heart. You must be imaginative,
strong-hearted, you must try things
that may not work. And you must not
let anyone define your limits
because of where you come from.
Your only limit is your soul. What
I say is true, anyone can cook...
but only the fearless can be great.
Remy grins, nodding in agreement.
But it was not to last. Gusteau’s
restaurant lost one of its five
stars after a scathing review by
France’s top food critic Anton Ego.
Remy drifts closer to the TV, drawn to the shocking news.
TV NARRATOR (CONT’D)
It was a severe blow to Gusteau,
and the great Chef died shortly
afterward, which, according to
tradition, meant the loss of
Gusteau... is dead?
Suddenly the TV SNAPS OFF! Remy & Emile spin around to see--
the OLD LADY is awake... and WIELDING A SHOT GUN.
Remy and Emile SCATTER! Emile panics, races toward the attic.
NO! You’ll lead her to the colony!
The Lady BLASTS huge holes in the ceiling just behind the
scrambling Emile. He LEAPS CLEAR-- and lands on the end of a
HANGING LIGHT FIXTURE. The old lady has him. She levels the
gun barrel at the helplessly dangling Emile--
REMY hides his eyes. EMILE braces for the end-- CLICK.
The shotgun is EMPTY. The OLD LADY REACTS: WHAT? EMILE
REACTS: Huh? I’m not dead? REMY LOOKS UP: Emile is still
alive? The OLD LADY curses, ejecting the shells.
EMILE SEES his opportunity, starts SCRAMBLING to pull himself
up onto the light. THE OLD LADY SEES THIS and rushes for more
shells. REMY sees an opening and takes off to help Emile.
Rifling through her desk drawers, the OLD LADY SPIES REMY
coming out of hiding to help EMILE. She REDOUBLES HER EFFORTS
to find a box of shells--
EMILE struggles his fat body up to the precarious LIGHT
Help! Remy! Help!
Emile, start swinging the light!
I’ll try to grab you!
OLD LADY hears Remy calling for Emile, but from her POV all
we hear is a SQUEAKING SOUND. OLD LADY finds a SHELL BOX:
EMPTY. She YANKS OPEN another desk drawer.
REMY arrives at the light fixture, reaches out for EMILE--
Emile! Swing to me!
OLD LADY-- nothing in the drawer, she decides to look in the
book shelf, LOOKING BACK to see if the TWO RATS are still
together and struggling, still sitting ducks--
Finding no shells in the desk, the LADY goes for the cabinet,
LOOKING BACK to the TWO sitting duck RATS. The lady FINDS a
fresh box of SHELLS, spilling them in her excitement--
REMY STRAINS to lift EMILE. The LADY drops to her knees,
picks up a shell, loading it as EMILE’s feet get purchase.
The LADY chambers her SHELL and SWINGS the SHOTGUN AROUND--
The RATS scramble up into a new blast hole at the base of a
hanging fixture. It EXPLODES in buckshot!
SILENCE... then a loud CRACK--
The lady LOOKS UP: a large FISSURE snakes across the ceiling,
connecting the wide circle of SHOTGUN HOLES-
--a massive CHUNK OF CEILING breaks free and comes crashing
down-- bringing with it the FLOOR of the ATTIC above, its
furniture, and HUNDREDS OF SURPRISED RATS.
The Old Lady FREAKS! She runs from the room.
EVACUATE!!! EVERYONE TO THE BOATS!
RATS grab assorted belongings as they make their escape. Remy
and Emile run with the terrified mob. Suddenly, Remy stops,
looks back to Gusteau’s COOKBOOK--
--and TURNS BACK, rushing into the flood of fleeing rats!
OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE
RATS are diving out the windows, streaming through cracks,
racing across the grass to the banks of a nearby stream.
BY THE STREAM
The rats run into the tall grass, pulling aside camouflage,
REVEALING several WATERCRAFT built from junk. The RATS push
them into the water and climb aboard. DJANGO urges them on.
GO GO GO! MOVE MOVE MOVE!
INSIDE THE FARMHOUSE KITCHEN
Remy, the last remaining rat, struggles with GUSTEAU’S
COOKBOOK. A strange BREATHING SOUND causes him to look up:
the LADY is back, now sporting a World War 2 GASMASK, and GAS
CANNISTER. She starts after Remy, SPRAYING GAS everywhere.
With a burst of adrenaline Remy hoists the COOKBOOK onto his
back and makes a running LEAP through the window--
OUTSIDE THE FARMOUSE
--and lands on the lawn in a shower of glass. It appears the
COOKBOOK itself is struggling to catch up to the fleeing ratsREMY
Wait! Wait for me!
ON THE RIVER
RAIN starts to fall. The last RAT BOAT has shoved off from
shore, but DJANGO’s boat lingers under the FOOTBRIDGE.
Everybody here? We have everybody?
Wait a minute- where’s Remy?!
At the shore, Remy throws the book into the water and starts
paddling toward the tunnel after the colony.
Right here! I’m coming! I’m coming!
Hold on son!
(to other rats)
Give him something to grab on to!
GIT, a huge, muscular lab rat, grabs a SPATULA and hoists it
out over the water toward Remy.
Come on boy!
Remy reaches out, desperately paddling with his other paw.
Paddle son! Come on, reach for it!
You can do it!
Remy has almost reached the end of the spatula-- BLAM!
A BLAST hits the water, sends Remy flying backward. The OLD
LADY has taken position at the footbridge above. She FIRES at
Django’s boat-- missing as his boat enters the tunnel.
Come on, you can make it! You can
Remy climbs back aboard the cookbook and PADDLES into the
drainpipe before the LADY can get off a shot. She CURSES.
TUNNEL - CONTINUOUS
Remy paddles. Ahead, Django’s BOAT vanishes into the dark.
Guys wait! Stop! Hold up! Wait for
me! Hold UP!
Frightened SHOUTS echo into SILENCE.
Silence. Remy strains to see into the darkness. He begins to
make out SHAPES; the channel forking into TWO TUNNELS.
He paddles towards the right tunnel, changes his mind, veers
toward the left. He paddles, picking up speed. Then he hears--
--a LOW RUMBLE. He stops, suddenly alert. The rumble becomes
a ROAR. Remy whirls, PADDLES furiously the opposite
direction. He’s headed toward the edge of a waterfall!
But it’s too late. Over the edge go Remy and the COOKBOOK,
tumbling into the rapids below.
Remy is tossed about like a rag doll, buffeted in every
direction by the churning water. He struggles for air--
--finally breaking the surface, he GULPS a breath--
--and is PLUNGED back under. The stone walls blur past him as
he claws back to the surface. Through the tumult he spies his
one chance up ahead-- the COOKBOOK. He swims toward it,
finally catching it, he pulls himself aboard.
The rapids pass, the waters become calm. He looks back,
amazed he’s still alive. He collapses, exhausted.
SOMEWHERE IN THE SEWER SYSTEM - NIGHT
A soaked and exhausted Remy has pulled his battered cookbook
to the sewer bank. It’s dark and cold, it smells bad, but
he’s safe. Maybe the clan will find him. He waits.
The COOKBOOK has dried out a bit, and there is just enough
light seeping through a grate above for Remy to read it.
I waited. For a sound... a voice...
a sign. Something...
Remy flips a crinkled page, to a appetizing photo of pastry.
His stomach GROWLS. He looks away, turning to a drawing of
GUSTEAU on the opposite page.
The ILLUSTRATION comes to life; speaking to Remy--
If you are hungry, go up and look
around, Remy. Why do you wait and
I’ve just lost my family. All my
friends. Probably forever.
How do you know?
(what is he doing?)
You... are an illustration. Why am
I talking to you?
You just lost your family. All your
friends. You are lonely.
Yeah, well, you’re dead.
Ah... but that is no match for
wishful thinking. If you focus on
what you’ve left behind you will
never be able to see what lies
ahead. Now go up and look around.
Remy looks up, considering the streets above. He looks back
to the illustration. Gusteau has resumed his frozen pose.
Remy decides to go.
WE FOLLOW REMY
as he scurries up into a BUILDING-- between walls, through
pipes, under floors,allowing GLIMPSES into the HUMAN world
around him. Remy moves through a crack, emerges into--
In the next room A PARTY is in progress. Remy spies a loaf of
BREAD. Famished, he grabs it, prepares to take a bite when-
--a SPRITE in the form of GUSTEAU appears, smaller than Remy,
glowing and semi-transparent.
What are you doing?!!
I’m hungry! I don’t know where I am
and I don’t know when I’ll find
Remy. You are better than that. You
are a cook! Cooks make. Thieves
take. You are not a thief.
But I am hungry...
Food will come, Remy. Food always
comes to those who love to cook...
The GUSTEAU SPRITE VANISHES. Remy shakes it off. He puts the
bread down, denying his growing hunger, and moves on.
BETWEEN THE WALLS
Remy MOVES, following his exceptional nose. We see glimpses
of many French lives;
A PAINTER carefully paints a nude model we can’t see--
An DOG barks aggressively, warning Remy away from his flat--
A LOVERS QUARREL. Remy watches from above, through a crack in
the ceiling; SHE shakily waves a pistol at a defiant HE.
You think I am playing, Francois?
You think I am PLAYING??
You don’t have the guts!
Losing interest, Remy moves on. A BULLET splinters the floor
in front of him. Remy rushes back to the crack and SEES--
--the couple struggling with the smoking gun. The MAN
wrenches it free, it clatters to the floor. They glare at
each other, blood in their eyes--
--and KISS. Remy rolls his eyes and moves on, through dark,
tight spaces... into a pipe and emerges onto--
OUTSIDE THE BUILDING - ROOFTOPS - DUSK
CAMERA follows as Remy scampers along railings and ledges,
past windows, up vines, BOOMING UP as the ROOFTOP FALLS AWAY
A STUNNING PANORAMA; PARIS AT NIGHT.
It is GORGEOUS-- a vast, luminous jewel. Remy is GOBSMACKED.
Paris? All this time I’ve been
underneath PARIS? It’s beautiful.
Remy’s takes in the sea of shimmering lights... then sees a
HUGE SIGN atop a building several blocks away. It’s GUSTEAU--
a frying pan in each hand. The SIGN marvels at the panorama.
The MOST beautiful.
Gusteau’s? Your restaurant?? You’ve
led me to your restaurant!
(not entirely sure)
It seems as though I have. Yes.
There it is! I have led you to it!
I gotta see this...
Remy heads off toward the restaurant.
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S RESTAURANT
WAITERS and COOKS bustle back and forth preparing elaborate
meals with energetic precision; the complex dance of Haute
Cuisine. Professional cooking at its finest.
While the COOKS range wildly in age and nationality, only one
is female; a French cook in her late twenties named COLETTE.
A small, nasty-looking MAN sporting a thin mustache and a
toque almost as large as the rest of him, ENTERS. This is the
head Chef, SKINNER. Several COOKS call out greetings to him.
He looks annoyed as LA ROUSSE nudges him.
Hey boss! Look who’s here! This is
Linguini, Renata’s little boy.
La Rousse gestures to LINGUINI, a gawky young man with a
unruly mop of red hair sitting on a stool in the corner. He
jumps up and awkwardly approaches Skinner.
LA ROUSSE (CONT’D)
All grown up, eh? You remember
Renata, Gusteau’s old flame?
Ahh yes. How are you, uh...
Yes. Linguini. So nice of you to
visit. How is--?
Yes. Renata. How is she?
Good. Well, not g-- she’s been
better... I mean, uh...
Oh. I’m sorry.
Don’t be. She believed in heaven so
...you know. Afterlife wise.
Skinner stares at Linguini for a long, perplexed moment.
Linguini suddenly hands a sealed envelope to him.
She left it for you. I think she
hoped it would help. Me. Get a job.
Of course, Gusteau wouldn’t
hesitate. Any son of Renata’s--
(cutting him off)
Yes. Well, we could file this, and
if something suitable opens up--
We’ve already hired him.
What?! How dare you hire someone
We needed a garbage boy.
Skinner processes this, calming as he does.
Oh. Garbage. Well...
(to Linguini, thin smile)
...I’m glad it worked out.
Skinner disappears into his office, which once belonged to
the great Gusteau himself. Linguini turns back to the other
cooks, who are already handing him his work clothes.
ROOFTOP - ABOVE GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - MINUTES LATER
Remy and the Gusteau sprite look down through the SKYLIGHT
into GUSTEAU’S kitchen. Remy watches, rapt as the CHEFS
scurry about, preparing the gourmet meals.
I can’t believe it. A real gourmet
kitchen and I get to watch.
You’ve read my book. Let us see how
much you know. Which is the Chef?
Remy points out SKINNER, who is berating another cook.
Very good. Who is next in command?
The Sous Chef... there.
(points out HORST)
The Sous is responsible for the
kitchen when the Chef’s not there.
REMY’S POV: ISOLATING THE COOKS as Remy points them out.
Saucier; in charge of sauces, very
important. Chef de Partie, DemiChef
de Partie-- both important...
Commis, Commis, Commis... they’re
cooks. Very important.
You are a clever rat. Now-- who is
Gusteau is pointing at the garbage boy LINGUINI, who is
clumsily steering a mop and bucket through the kitchen.
Oh... him? He’s nobody.
Not nobody. He is part of the
He’s a Plongeur or something.
Washes dishes or takes out the
garbage. He doesn’t cook.
But he could.
Below, LINGUINI accidentally knocks over the pot of soup,
spilling it. Remy gives Gusteau a patronizing chuckle.
What WE SEE, but Remy doesn’t: desperate that no one notices
his mistake, Linguini quickly replaces the pot on the burner,
and MOPS up the floor.
How do you know? What do I always
say? “Anyone can cook”.
Well, yeah. Anyone can. That
doesn’t mean that anyone should.
Well that is not stopping him. See?
Remy watches aghast as Linguini quickly chums some water from
another pot into the soup to refill it to it’s former level,
haphazardly throws in a few spices and vegetables.
No! This is terrible! He’s ruining
the soup! And nobody’s noticing?!
It’s your restaurant! Do something!
What can I do? I am a figment of
But HE’S RUINING THE SOUP! We’ve
got to tell someone that he’s RThe
skylight suddenly gives way, and Remy PLUNGES down--
With a SPLASH Remy lands in a sink filled with soapy
dishwater. He paddles to the surface, climbs onto the counter
and tumbles over the edge, hitting the floor with a SPLAT.
KITCHEN FLOOR - UNDER THE COUNTER - CONTINUOUS
Remy HIDES. GIANT FEET (belonging to busy COOKS) boom by on
either side. Surrounded by the enemies of rat kind, Remy is
PETRIFIED. From REMY’S POV the kitchen is a terrifying place;
full of FIRE and NOISE. He runs out from under the counter.
The door to the walk-in OPENS, knocking Remy across the floor
and under the stove. Above him rows of burners IGNITE.
He races across a walkway, under another counter and out the
other side, nearly run over by a DINING CART. REMY dives
underneath it, using it to cross the kitchen camouflaged.
Sticking his head out, Remy spots an OPEN WINDOW on the far
wall: a way out! He runs for it, climbing up a dish rack to
the counter. He is nearly to the OPEN WINDOW.
He scrambles up onto a copper pot toward it, but the lid
slips and he falls inside. He LOOKS UP.
REMY’S POV: OUT FROM UNDER THE POT LID
--the window is MOVING AWAY. What’s happening?!
WIDEN TO REVEAL--
--the POT is being carried away by one of the COOKS. The chef
sets the pot down near a stove and exits. As Remy heads back
toward the window, a wonderful SCENT hits his nose. He
SNIFFS, following it to a PAN filled with vegetables.
Enticed, he crawls inside, and it is only then that he
notices the LARGE TURKEY-- moments before a COOK picks up the
pan and slides it into the oven!
Remy barely escapes before the oven door CLOSES, SPRINGING
from the oven to another passing trolley, which bursts into--
THE DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Remy is wheeled into the plush hush of the restaurant, and
pulls up to a table of well-dressed DINERS. A WAITERS HAND
reaches down for a peppermill, grabbing REMY instead--
--which startles both of them. The HAND instantly RELEASES
Remy, who quickly leaps on to another passing trolley, the
one heading back to the kitchen.
GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Remy jumps off the trolley and hides. He looks up at the
--the WINDOW has been CLOSED! Linguini crosses into his view
and tastes the soup. It’s horrible, so horrible that--
--he runs to the window, opens it, SPITS the soup out into
the alley and exits-- LEAVING THE WINDOW OPEN.
He sees his opening and runs for it, climbing a broom handle
to a shelf above the stove that leads to the OPEN WINDOW.
Dodging jars of spices he runs through the steam from the
soup bubbling directly below. It’s so disgusting that--
--without thinking, he grabs a spice from the counter, throws
a dash in. He starts for the window-- thinks better of it,
adds some leeks, adds some pepper, starts back to the window--
His gaze returns to the boiling pot. He looks back at the
kitchen: the cooks haven’t noticed him. He looks at the
window: it is still open, and the path to it is clear.
The GUSTEAU SPRITE APPEARS--
Remy! What are you waiting for?
Is this going to become a regular
thing with you?
You know how to fix it. This is
Remy considers this. Then, filled with purpose, he jumps to
the stove top, turns the burner down, hops up to the spigot
to add water to the soup.
Quickly losing himself, Remy proceeds to remake the soup,
alternately smelling, tasting and adding ingredients to it.
He grabs a pawful of spices to toss in and SUDDENLY SEES--
--LINGUINI, wide-eyed and brandishing a ladle. They STARE at
each other for a long moment, deer caught in each others
headlights. Remy drops the spices into the soup.
THE SOUP! WHERE IS THE SOUP?
The two STARTLE; Remy tries to run for the window. Linguini
slams a collander over him, both hiding and trapping him.
Out of my way, Garbage boy!
Skinner spots the ladle in Linguini’s hand. He seizes
Linguini by his collar.
You are COOKING? How dare you cook
in my kitchen!
Remy starts to push the collander toward the open window.
Where do you get the gall to even
attempt something so monumentally
idiotic? I should have you drawn
and quartered! I’ll do it! I think
the law is on my side!
LaRousse! Draw and quarter this
man! AFTER you put his head in the
duck press to squeeze the fat out!
As Skinner berates Linguini, LALO ladles the soup into a
tureen, which he takes to the pass. Linguini watches
helplessly as the waiter MUSTAFA carries his soup out to the
Oh, no... no no, ohhhh nooo--
What are you blathering
-but don’t let- th-- sou...
(suddenly understands) *
STOP THAT SOUP! Noooo!
But Mustafa is gone and it is TOO LATE. Skinner anxiously
looks through the door windows into the dining room--
SKINNER’S POV: THE DINING ROOM
--the soup is served to a WOMAN DINER. She tastes it, REACTS
visibly, and motions for the waiter.
RESUME KITCHEN - GUSTEAU & SKINNER
Wilting, Skinner turns his building rage toward Linguini.
Linguini! You’re FIRED! F-I-R-E-D!
MUSTAFA, the waiter, sticks his head through the doubledoors,
speaking low to Skinner.
She wants to speak to the Chef.
Color drains from Skinner’s face. He sighs, heads out into
the dining room to take his medicine. Linguini creeps toward
the exit, but is collared by the Sous Chef HORST.
On the counter, Remy inches the collander towards the window.
Colette sticks a spoon into the soup and tastes. It’s GOOD.
Mustafa and Skinner re-enter from the dining room, Skinner’s
face a riot of bewilderment.
What did the customer say?
It wasn’t a customer. It was a
LeClaire? What did she say?
She liked the soup.
UNDER THE COLLANDER
The GUSTEAU SPRITE stops Remy.
What do mean “wait’? You’re the
reason I’m in this mess!
Someone is asking about your soup!
The bustle of the kitchen has STOPPED DEAD as Skinner tastes
the soup. His eyes betray a truth; the soup is delicious. And
he HATES that. He turns to Linguini, his face DARK.
What are you playing at?
I, uhm, didn’t-- am I still fired?
You can’t fire him.
(wheels on her)
LeClaire likes it. She made a point
of telling you so. If she writes a
review to that effect, and finds
out you fired the cook responsible--
He’s a garbage boy...
--who made something she liked. How
can we claim to represent the name
of Gusteau if we don’t uphold his
most cherished belief?
What belief is that, Madamoiselle
Anyone can cook.
UNDER THE COLLANDER
The Gusteau sprite NUDGES Remy.
The other COOKS murmur their assent. The turn of the tide
isn’t lost on Skinner. His face softens into an icy smile.
Perhaps I’ve been a bit harsh on
our new garbage boy. He has taken a
bold risk, and we should reward
that, as Chef Gusteau would have.
If he wishes to swim in dangerous
waters who are we to deny him?
UNDER THE COLLANDER
Remy’s totally absorbed in this conflict. A COUGH causes Remy
to looks up: the GUSTEAU SPRITE gestures at the window.
You were escaping..?
Remy resumes pushing toward the window.
BACK TO SCENE
Skinner turns to Colette, gives her a withering smile.
Since you have expressed such an
interest in his cooking career, you
should be responsible for it.
Colette’s face falls. Skinner turns to the other cooks.
(they look away)
Then back to work--!
The cooks resume their work. Skinner wheels on Linguini.
You are either very lucky or very
UNlucky. You will make the soup
again, and this time I’ll be paying
attention. Very close attention.
Off to the side, REMY has almost made it to the window.
They think you might be a cook. But
you know what I think, Linguini? I
think you’re a sneaky, overreaching
(he SPIES REMY)
REMY RUNS. The OTHER COOKS come after him. Skinner SWINGS a
MOP at Remy, breaking dishes and blocking his escape.
Linguini! Get a something to trap
Linguini CLAPS a jar over Remy. Seals it.
What should I do now...?
No! Not in the kitchen, are you
mad?? Do you know what would happen
to us if anyone knew we had a rat
in our kitchen?
They’d close us down!! Our
reputation is hanging by a thread
as it is. Take it away from here,
far away. Kill it, dispose of it.
Linguini nods and quickly EXITS the kitchen’s back door.
ALLEY BEHIND GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS - NIGHT
Linguini hops aboard a bicycle and peddles into the gloom,
carrying Remy in the jar with him.
ALONG THE SEINE - NIGHT
The waterfront, normally so beautiful, seems dark and
forboding this night. Linguini slows his bicycle and pulls up
under a street lamp near a bridge underpass. He climbs off
the bicycle and prepares to drop the jar into the water.
Remy is PETRIFIED. His heart racing, he presses his paws
against the glass, staring at Linguini with terrified eyes.
Linguini HESITATES... then PULLS BACK, shouting at Remy.
Don’t look at me like that! You
aren’t the only one who’s trapped.
They expect me to cook it again!
(Remy looks up: HUH?)
I’m not ambitious, I wasn’t trying
to cook, I was just trying to stay
out of trouble. You’re the one who
was getting fancy with the spices!
What’d you throw in there? Oregano?
(Remy SHAKES HEAD: “NO”)
No? What, rosemary?
(Again, Remy shakes head)
That’s a spice, isn’t it? Rosemary?
(At this Remy NODS)
You didn’t put rosemary in there?
Remy shakes his head. Linguini SLUMPS down on the bank, sets
the Remy jar next to him.
I need this job. I’ve lost so many.
I don’t know how to cook and now
I’m talking to a rat as if you
actually understand what I’m say--
--did you NOD?? You UNDERSTAND ME??
So I’m not crazy. Wait a second,
wait a second. I can’t cook. Can I?
(Remy shakes his head)
But you can. Right?
(Remy thinks uncertainly)
Don’t be so modest, you’re a rat
for Pete’s sake. Whatever you did,
they liked it.
(lost in thought)
Yeah. This could work. Hey, they
liked the soup--
With an expansive gesture Linguini accidentally KNOCKS REMY’S
JAR INTO THE SEINE. Horrified, Linguini DIVES IN after it.
JUMP CUT TO:
ALONG BANKS OF SEINE - MINUTES LATER
Linguini sits on a bench, soaking wet, the jar with Remy
successfully retrieved and sitting next to him.
They liked the soup. You think you
could... do it again?
I’m gonna let you go. But we’re
together on this. Right?
(Remy NODS again)
Linguini sets the jar down on its side and carefully OPENS
the lid . Remy looks up at him... and TAKES OFF, escaping
into the darkness. CACKLING as he runs, Remy LOOKS BACK atREMY’S
POV: PULLING AWAY FROM LINGUINI
--who stands forlorn and alone under the bridge.
He slows to a stop, moved by this pitiful sight.
He SIGHS, defeated. Turns sadly to his bicycle. Then a SOUND:
the CLICKING of tiny claws on cement. Linguini looks up--
REMY, very cautiously, is coming toward him, back into the
light. Remy looks at Linguini... who SMILES.
LINGUINI’S FLAT - NIGHT
Darkness. we hear KEYS fumbling in a lock. Linguini KICKS the
warped door a few times, opening it enough to enter, and
wrestle his bicycle through. He turns on a light, REVEALING--
-a tiny, odd-shaped room; two doors in the wall; one a
bathroom, the other a closet, both tiny. One window, a table
with two chairs. Hotplate. A miniscule, ancient refrigerator.
A ratty couch doubles as a bed, a portable black & white t.v.
rests precariously on one arm.
This is it. It’s not much, but it’s-
(he looks around)
(to Remy, shrugs)
Could be worse; there’s heat and
light and a couch with a TV. So,
y’know-- what’s mine is yours.
Remy looks over the new digs. He likes them just fine.
Fast asleep on the couch, Linguini is bathed in the
flickering light from an old and very romantic FRENCH MOVIE
on TV. TWO LOVERS stand handsomely in the swirling steam of a
soon to depart locomotive, staring into each other’s eyes--
HER (TV) *
Are you-- is this... a dream? *
The best kind of dream. One
we can share. *
Tucked in to an OVEN MITT near the window sill, REMY gazes
dreamily at the lights of Paris. The romantic MOVIE MUSIC
swells, underscoring his emotions.
HER (OS TV) *
But why here? Why now? *
HIM (OS TV)
Why not here? Why not now?
What better place to dream... *
than in Paris? *
Remy grins, slowly closes his eyes. Dreaming.
LINGUINI’S FLAT - MORNING
Linguini AWAKENS with a start. He looks up at the oven mitt--
Morning, little Chef. Rise and sh--
--and suddenly realizes REMY IS GONE.
Idiot! I knew this would happen! I
let a rat into my place and tell
him what’s mine is his?
Linguini yanks open the refrigerator door and looks inside.
Eggs GONE! STUPID! He’s stolen food
and hit the road! What’d I expect?
That’s what I get for trusting a raAs
Linguini moves around the tiny alcove HE SEES--
--REMY, quite pleased with himself as he cooks omelettes on
the hotplate. Two places have been set at the tiny table.
Wh--? Hey. What-- is that for me?
Remy nods and deftly (but with considerable effort) sets the
large omelette onto Linguini’s plate. Linguini sits and puts
a forkful into his mouth.
It’s good. What’d you put in this?
(Remy holds up basil leaf)
Where’d you get that?
Remy moves to the window and points to the roof garden of a
nearby flat. Linguini looks down at the enterprising rat.
Look. It’s delicious. But don’t
steal. I’ll buy some spices, okay?
Remy shrugs and turns to eat. Linguini glances at his clock.
Oh no. We’re gonna be late, and on
the first day!
Linguini SHOVES the rest of the eggs into his mouth and grabs
his coat. Famished, Remy opens wide, ready for his first bite
of food, when Linguini snatches him up---
Ca’mon, little Chef!
--and runs out of the apartment.
GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN - MORNING
The cooks are circled around Colette, listening with interest
as she reads a review aloud from the morning paper.
“Though I, like many other critics,
had written off Gusteau’s as
irrelevant since the great Chef’s
death, the soup was a revelation, a
spicy yet subtle taste experience.”
Skinner has ENTERED, and is now stopped in his tracks.
”Against all odds, Gusteau’s has
recaptured our attention. Only time
will tell if they deserve it.”
IN ALLEY OUTSIDE GUSTEAU’S
Linguini waits outside, Remy in palm, staring uncomfortably
at the kitchen entrance, working up the nerve to go inside.
Aware he can’t enter the kitchen carrying a rat, Linguini
looks half heartedly for places to conceal Remy; under his
shirt, up his sleeves, in his sock-- rejecting each in turn.
Out of ideas, Linguini slowly opens the top of his pants.
Remy looks up at him, APPALLED.
Look, I know it’s weird and stupid,
but neither of us can do this
alone. So we gotta do it together,
right? You with me??
Remy gives a reluctant NOD. Linguini glares at the kitchen
entrance, psyching himself up--
So... LETS DO THIS THING!!
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S
The back door SLAMS OPEN. All heads swing to a slightly
crazed LINGUINI standing in the doorway. He wilts a bit with
the attention, and attempts to cross inconspicuously to his
station, the hidden rat causing a strangely spastic lurch.
The other COOKS watch with bewildered amusement.
Linguini arrives at his station and looks uneasily at the new
TOQUE resting there: his new toque. He swallows, placing it
on his head, and suddenly notices Skinner standing there.
Welcome to hell. Now... recreate
the soup. Take as long as you need,
all week if you must.
Skinner EXITS. Linguini looks at his station with dread, a
blocked writer facing a blank page.
LINGUINI’S STATION - MINUTES LATER
Raw soup stock bubbles at a low boil on the stove. Linguini
stares at the variety carefully prepared of ingredients--
herbs, spices, diced vegetables, etc that have been and laid
out at his station. He’s completely unsure of where to start.
REMY peeks out from Linguini’s collar and examines the scene.
He scrambles underneath Linguini’s shirt and across his
chest, tickling him. Linguini LAUGHS.
Remy’s head pops out from Linguini’s SHIRT CUFF, sees
Linguini reaching for a SPICE TIN; the WRONG spice. Remy
signals Linguini to stop, but Linguini pays no attention, so--
--Remy gives Linguini’s HAND a NIP. Linguini YELPS-- dropping
the entire spice tin INTO THE SOUP. Appalled, Remy gives
Linguini an admonishing bite--
Linguini YELPS and CURSES, SWATS Remy in retaliation. Remy
scurries to the other arm (GIGGLE) and gives Linguini another
nip (more YELPS & CURSINGS).
The OTHER COOKS marvel at the strangeness of the spastic,
giggling, yelping Linguini. Visibly panicked, the
giggling/yelping Linguini TURNS, lurching from his station to
the food safe, and closing himself inside.
INSIDE FOOD VAULT - CONTINUOUS
Linguini RIPS his shirt open, exposing his chest and arms,
which are covered in angry red BITE MARKS.
(looks at Remy accusingly)
(gestures at bite marks)
Remy stares at the nearly hysterical Linguini.
This is NOT gonna work, little
chef! I am gonna LOSE IT if we do
this any more. We gotta figure out
something else. Something that
doesn’t involve any biting or
nipping or running up and down my
body with your little rat feet. The
biting; NO. Scampering; NO. No
scampering or scurrying.
Understand, little chef?
Remy’s gaze has drifted away from Linguini, to the shelves
LOADED with premium food. Remy looks weak with longing.
Oh... you’re hungry.
Guilty, Linguini breaks a chunk from a round of cheese and
offers it to Remy, who scarfs it down. Linguini, calmer now,
straightens his clothes as he thinks out loud.
Okay... the way I see it; you know
how to cook. And I know how... to
appear... human. We just need to
work out a system so that I do what
you want in a way that doesn’t look
like I’m being controlled by a tiny
rat chef oh WOULD YOU LISTEN TO ME?
I’M INSANE I’M INSANE I’M INSIDE A
REFRIGERATOR TALKING TO A RAT ABOUT
GOURMET COOKING I WILL NEVER PULL
KITCHEN - OUTSIDE FOOD VAULT
Passing the food vault Skinner hears a VOICE from within.
INSIDE FOOD VAULT
Remy, still eating, listens as Linguini pours his heart out.
-we gotta communicate! I can’t be
checking for a yes or no head shake
from a rat thSuddenly
the vault door JERKS OPEN. THREE THINGS HAPPEN FAST:
1) Skinner sees a fleeting glimpse of LINGUINI WITH REMY.
2) Linguini HITS THE LIGHT SWITCH-- the room GOES DARK.
3) Skinner instantly FLICKS THE LIGHTS BACK ON to see--
--Linguini standing exactly as before. But Remy is GONE.
The rat! I saw it!
No... a rat?
(searching about Linguini)
Yes, yes-- a rat! Right next to you-
--what ARE YOU DOING IN HERE???
I’m just familiarizing myself with--
y’know, the vegetables... and such.
Linguini makes a hasty exit. Skinner calls out after him.
ONE CAN GET TOO FAMILIAR WITH
VEGETABLES YOU KNOW!
KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Linguini speaks to Remy, who he’s hidden under his TOQUE--
That was close. You okay up there?
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy’s surroundings are visible through the thin fabric. He
looks up AND SEES they are about to COLLIDE with--
--a WAITER CARRYING A TRAY PILED WITH DISHES. Remy YANKS BACK
LINGUINI’S HAIR like horses REINS, CAUSINGLINGUINI
--to jerk backwards in an impossible limbo-arch, pivoting
under the tray of dishes--
--and BACK UP AGAIN, miraculously averting disaster. Linguini
blinks in amazement: what just happened? He ducks into the--
LINGUINI removes his toque, looks at Remy in the mirror.
How did you do that??
Still grasping hanks of Linguini’s hair in his paws, Remy
SHRUGS. Linguini’s shoulders SHOOT UP to his ears. Startled,
Remy drops his arms; Linguini’s shoulders drop.
A gleam comes into the rats’ eyes. He JERKS the left hank,
causing Linguini’s LEFT ARM to SHOOT UP IN THE AIR.
Wow. That’s strangely involuntaREEERemy
is yanking tufts of Linguini’s hair like a kid with a
new toy. Linguini jerks around like a helpless puppet.
Remy stops, looks at the panting Linguini in the mirror.
One look and I knew, each of us had
the same crazy idea...
LINGUINI’S FLAT - NIGHT (MONTAGE: LEARNING TO COOK)
Using hanks of Linguini’s hair to control Linguini’s actions,
Remy pilots Linguini(who is blindfolded to keep him from
cheating) through an increasingly complex series of cooking
tasks, everything from cutting vegetables to flipping crepes.
During this comic montage we see Remy learning precisely how
to pilot Linguini, and at the same time, Linguini is learning
how to surrender himself to being “piloted”.
By dawn, Linguini and Remy have meshed into one finely honed
KITCHEN - NEXT DAY
Linguini stands off to the side, fretting as Skinner pulls a
ladle of soup from a Linguini’s pot and tastes it.
Congratulations. You were able to
repeat your accidental success. But
you will need to know more than
soup, if you are to survive in my
kitchen, boy. Colette--
Skinner gestures to COLETTE, who watches with a scowl.
--will be responsible for teaching
you how we do things here.
Skinner grins and EXITS. Linguini crosses to Colette.
(a little too smooth)
Listen, I just want you to know how
honored I am to be studying under aColette
STABS a knife through Linguini’s shirtsleeve, pinning
it to the table. Her voice is low, intense.
No, you listen. I just want you to
know exactly who you are dealing
with. How many women do you see in
Well, I hah--- um--
She brings a second knife down through Linguini’s sleeve--
Only me. Why do you think that is?
Well... huh--! I... hoo...
Because Haute Cuisine is an
antiquated hierarchy built upon
rules written by stupid old men,
rules designed to make it
impossible for women to enter this
world. But still I am here. How did
Linguini burbles in a desperate attempt at nonchalance.
Because... you, ah-- hah...
Colette SLAMS a third knife through Linguini’s sleeve,
thoroughly pinning it. Linguini is truly frightened.
Because I’m the toughest cook in
this kitchen. I’ve worked too hard
for too long to get here, and I’m
not going to jeopardize it for some
garbage boy who got lucky. Got it?
Linguini NODS pathetically. Colette pulls the knife handles
out with a single JERK and Linguini topples to the floor.
Colette EXITS. Linguini peeks over the counter, dazzled.
Skinner watches as ad man FRANCOIS DUPUIS finishes pitching
his campaign for the latest GUSTEAU’S FROZEN FOOD product.
The trademark Chef Gusteau art has been re-painted; Gusteau
now sports a kimono, coolie hat, and chopsticks. Behind this
are similar campaigns for GUSTEAU’S FRENCH PIZZA and
GUSTEAU’S MICROWAVE BURRITOS. Skinner is captivated.
“Easy to cook, easy to eat, Gusteau
makes Chinese food ‘Chine-Easy!’”.
Excellent work Francois, as usual.
It’s good, isn’t it?
Skinner stands, offering a handshake to signal the end of the
meeting. As Francois packs up his portfolio, preparing to
leave, Skinner straightens the photo of himself with Gusteau
that hangs on the wall.
I want you to work up something for
my latest frozen food concept:
“Gusteau’s Corn Puppies”. Like corn
dogs, only smaller, bite size!
(starts sketching in pad)
What are corn dogs?
Cheap sausages dipped in batter and
deep fried. You know... American.
Whip something up, maybe Gusteau in
overalls and Huckleberry Tom hatDUPUIS
(displaying his sketch)
Or as a giant ear of corn in doggie
Yes, but... with dignity.
Dupuis EXITS. Skinner moves to his desk and the stack of
UNOPENED MAIL there, and begins to shuffle through it; bill,
bill, bill-- and the PINK ENVELOPE given to him by Linguini.
He opens the envelope and reads; his bored eyes growing wider
and wider with each line. He GASPS, seizing the phone.
Get my lawyer--!
SKINNER’S OFFICE - AN HOUR LATER
Skinner’s lawyer TALON LABARTHE is reading GUSTEAU’S WILL.
The will stipulates that, if after
a period of two years from the date
of death no heir appears, Gusteau’s
business interests-- including the
restaurant and the rights to his
name and image-- will pass to his
Sous Chef. You.
I know what the will stipulates!
What I want to know is if this
letter, if this boy, changes
Skinner raises the window blinds, revealing a view of the
kitchen and Linguini, who looks unusually awkward among the
practiced cooking staff. Talon looks from Linguini to a
framed photo of GUSTEAU.
There’s not much resemblance--
There’s NO resemblance at all! He’s
not Gusteau’s son! Gusteau had no
children! And what of the timing of
all this? The deadline in the will
expires in less than a month!
Talon drifts around the office, searching for something.
Suddenly some boy arrives with a
letter from his “recently deceased”
mother claiming Gusteau as his
father? Highly suspect!
Talon spies a TOQUE inside a DISPLAY CASE. He turns to
This is Gusteau’s?
Of course, of course.
Talon carefully opens the display case, removes GUSTEAU’S
TOQUE and begins to inspect it.
But the boy does not know?
(brandishing the letter)
She claims she never told him-- OR
Gusteau! And asks that I not tell!
Why you? What does she want?
Talon spies something on the toque: a HAIR. He pulls a pair
of TWEEZERS from his coat, removes the hair, folding it
carefully inside a handkerchief, and pocketing it.
A job. For the boy.
Only a job?
Then what are you worried about? If
he works here you’ll be able to
keep an eye on him, while I do a
little digging, find out how much
of this is real.
(getting his coat)
I’ll need you to collect some DNA
samples from the boy, hair maybe.
The whole thing is HIGHLY SUSPECT.
He KNOWS something!!
Relax. He’s a garbage boy. I think
you can handle him.
Talon exits. Skinner stands inert, spooked.
Linguini finishes dicing a red pepper. He sets down his
knife, carefully scoops up the small pile of dicings, walks
over to a giant pot and drops it in, returning to repeat the
procedure. Colette, who has watched this, interrupts--
What are you doing?
I’m cutting. Vegetables. I’m
cutting the vegetables?
NO. You waste energy and time!
Colette slides a chair up to the end of Linguini’s prep table
and slams the pot down on its seat so that the top is level
with the table’s surface.
You think cooking is a cute job,
huh? Like mommy in the kitchen?
She snatches Linguini’s KNIFE from him with one hand, several
vegetables with the other. With frightening speed she dices
them; flicking each diced pile into the pot with the knife;
dice, flick, dice, flick--
Well mommy never had to face the
dinner rush when the orders come
flooding in and every dish is
different and none are simple and
all have different cooking times
but must arrive on the customers
table at exactly the same time, hot
and perfect. Every second counts--
In MOMENTS Colette has completed a ten-minute Linguini job.
--and you CAN NOT BE MOMMY!!!!
TIME CUT: ANOTHER DAY
Linguini is cooking. He takes a pan off the burner and sets
it to one side, which is already cluttered with utensils.
Colette sees the mess and is outraged.
What is this!?
Linguini stammers. Colette quickly clears his station,
pitching it all into a sink full of dishwater.
Keep your station clear. When the
meal rush comes what will happen?
Messy stations slow things down,
food doesn’t go, orders pile up--
disaster!! I’ll make this easy to
remember; keep your station
clear, or I WILL KILL YOU! Colette throws towel at Linguini.
TIME CUT: Colette grabs Linguini by the arm and holds up his
sleeves, which are smeared with multi-colored STAINS.
Your sleeves look like you threw up
on them. Keep your hands and arms
in, close to the body like this--
--see? Always return to this
position. Cooks move fast; sharp
utensils, hot metal, keep your arms
in, you will minimize cuts and
burns and keep your sleeves clean.
Mark of a chef; messy apron, clean
TIME CUT: ANOTHER DAY
Linguini and Colette shell peas. Colette’s manner is easier,
I know the Gusteau style cold. In
every dish Chef Gusteau always has
something unexpected. I will show
you, I memorized all his recipes--
(writing it down)
“Always do something unexpected”...
No. “Follow the recipe”.
But you just said--
It was his job to be unexpected. It
is our job to--
COLETTE & LINGUINI
--follow the recipe.
TIME CUT: ANOTHER DAY
Colette pulls a loaf from a basket of freshly baked bread and
shows it to Linguini.
How do you tell how good bread is
without tasting it? Not the smell,
not the look, but the sound... of
the crust. Listen--
She holds the loaf to her ears, Linguini leans in to listen.
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy also LEANS IN to listen. Colette gives the bread a
SQUEEZE. The CRACKLE is seductive.
She and Linguini SMILE at the pleasing CRUNCH.
-a symphony of crackles. Only
great bread sounds this way.
TIME CUT: ANOTHER DAY - EARLY MORNING
Colette and Linguini have begun their prep. There is a new
relaxation between them.
The only way to get the best
produce is to have first pick of
the day, and there are only two
ways to get first pick; grow it
yourself or bribe a grower.
She gestures to the back door. Outside a PRODUCE SELLER,
conversing amicably with La Rousse, sets down a crate of
gorgeous fruit and vegetables. La Rousse slips him money.
Voila! The best restaurants get
Linguini and Colette cook side by side, their manner now as
easy and familiar as old friends.
People think Haute Cuisine is
snooty, so chefs must also be
snooty. But not so.
ON LALO, who bobs to radio music as he sautés, cooking with a
efficient, yet theatrical flourish.
Lalo there-- ran away from home at
twelve, got hired by circus people
as an acrobat, got fired for
messing around with the ringmasters
CAMERA SWINGS to HORST. He glances about with shifty eyes.
Horst has done time.
No one knows for sure. He changes
the story every time you ask him.
JUMP CUTS: HORST explains various reasons for incarceration.
I defrauded a major corporation.
I robbed the second largest bank in
France using only a ballpoint pen.
I created a hole in the ozone over
I killed a man with--
(he holds it up)
CAMERA MOVES to POMPIDOU. He works dough with expert
Don’t ever play cards with
Pompidou. He’s been banned from
both Las Vegas and Monte Carlo.
CAMERA MOVES to LAROUSSE as he slips into the food safe.
La Rousse ran guns for the
He won’t say. Apparently they did
RESUME COLETTE & LINGUINI
So you see, we are artists.
Pirates. More than cooks are we.
Oui. You are one of us now, oui?.
They exchange smiles and resume work. PAUSE.
Thank you... by the way, for all
the advice about cooking.
Thank you, too.
For taking it.
INSIDE SKINNER’S CAR - MOVING - NIGHT
Skinner listens to the radio. Suddenly he SITS UP--
HIS POV THROUGH WINDSHIELD:
Remy scampers across the alley to the kitchen entrance behind
GUSTEAU’S... and into the hands of a kneeling Linguini.
He JAMS the brakes, throws the car into reverse. As Linguini
is brought back into view we see that REMY IS GONE. Still
kneeling, Linguini holds up a set of KEYS.
(to Skinner, chuckles)
I just dropped my keys.
Skinner is BAFFLED.
GUSTEAU’S - DINING AREA - NIGHT
There is noticeably more energy and fewer empty tables in the
dining room. Mustafa arrives at a table of FOOD SNOBS.
Have you decided?
FOOD SNOB #1
Well, the new soup is excellent butFOOD
--but we order it every time.
FOOD SNOB #3
What else do you have?
We have a very nice Foie Gras--
FOOD SNOB #1
Yes, the old standby, you used to
be famous for it. What does the
Chef have that’s new?
Mustafa stands there, slack-jawed and blinking.
Mustafa crashes through the swinging doors in a panic.
Someone has asked what is
Yes! What do I tell them?
What did you tell them?
I told them I would ask!
What are you blathering
Customers are asking what is
What should I tell them?
What DID you tell them??
I TOLD THEM I WOULD ASK!!!
This is simple. Just pull out an
old Gusteau recipe, something we
haven’t made in a while and--
They know about the old stuff. They
like Linguini’s soup--
Linguini? They are asking for food
A lot of customers like the soup.
That’s all we were saying.
Were we saying that?
An IDEA comes to Skinner. Dark pleasure blooms on his face.
Very well. If it’s Linguini they
He pulls Horst close and speaks to him quietly.
...tell them “Chef” Linguini has
prepared something special for
them, something definitely “offmenu”.
Oh, and don’t forget to
stress its “Linguini-ness”.
Skinner turns to Linguini, a big shark-smile on his face.
Now is your chance to try something
worthy of your talent, Linguini. A
forgotten favorite of the Chef’s:
“Sweetbread a la Gusteau”! Colette
will help you!
Now hurry up. Our diners are
Skinner turns to go to his office, a worried La Rousse rushes
up to him, speaking in a low, concerned voice.
Are you sure? That recipe was a
disaster. Gusteau himself said so.
Just the sort of challenge a
budding chef needs.
Skinner disappears inside his office, humming to himself.
WITH COLETTE & LINGUINI
Linguini looking over Colette’s shoulder as she stares at an
old, yellowing recipe card, sizing up it’s ingredients.
Sweetbread a la Gusteau. Sweetbread
cooked in a salt crust with
cuttlefish tenticles. Drizzled
(with increasing distaste)
Douglas fir puree... beetroot
mousse and pollen...dried white
fungus... and dipped in anchovy
liquorice sauce. Huh.
Sounds awful. Colette shrugs it off and turns to Linguini.
I don’t know this recipe. But it is
Lalo! We have some veal stomach
Yes, the veal stomach, I get that.
Uh-- veal... stomach?
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE - MINUTES LATER
Remy pilots Linguini’s hand to lift the small pot of snail
porridge off the burner and up to Linguini’s toque for an
obligatory sniff. Remy looks at the porridge, then at the
rack of fresh spices. Suddenly Remy pilots Linguini to go for
the SPICES, lifting them rapidly one by one up the toque to
SNIFF. Remy selects one that smells right and dumps it in the
suddenly LEANS FORWARD, tilting his toque over the fragrant
STEAM from the simmering pot.
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy takes a WHIFF, likes what he smells. Inspired, he pilots
Linguini out into the kitchen.
--is alarmed by his sudden ramble, completely unsure of where
he’s going, what he’s looking for.
UNDER THE TOQUE
Remy maneuvers Linguini spasmodically past the other cooks
stations, wildly sniffing around for the next ingredient, a
composer hunting for the next note in a new symphony. He
catches a pleasing scent in Lalo’s station--
SNATCHES some SHALLOTS from Lalo, who looks up in SHOCK, but
Linguini is already gone, racing back to his station to add
the new ingredients to a heating pan.
Linguini JERKS forward, tilting his toque over the pan, then
PEELS OUT of his station, once again on the move.
KITCHEN -SAME TIME
Linguini ZIPS about snatching ingredients from the other
cooks stations, a Porche apologizing for its driver.
(ad-lib to cooks)
Pardon me, just need to borrow this
real quick-- sorry-- apparently I
need this-- I’ll be right back--
To the others, Linguini looks deranged; a man who’s clearly
lost control of both his body and his faculties.
Linguini careens back into his station and DUMPS the
ingredients into his pan, startling Colette--
What are you doing? We are supposed
to be preparing the Gusteau recipe.
(stirring, flipping pan)
I’m, uh... this is the recipe--
The recipe doesn’t call for white
truffle oil! What else have you--
(she looks in his pan)
You are improvising?? This is no
time to experiment, the customers
(to REMY, nudging toque)
--I should listen to you!
Linguini suddenly SLAPS his own face, then LEANS his toque
over the Sweetbread.
Freaking me out! Whatever
you’re doing-- stop it.
Where is the special order?
Both Colette and Linguini are working quickly now, but on
separate dishes, giving the appearance of a competition.
(Low to Linguini)
I thought we were together on
We are together.
Then what are you doing?
It’s--- VERY hard to explain.
Come get it!
UNDER THE TOQUE
Remy watches anxiously as Colette sets the plate at the pass
to be picked up, a hank of hair in each paw, waiting for an
opening. Colette glances at the recipe.
Oh-- I forgot to add the liquorice!
She rushes back to get it. Remy sees his chance. Linguini
finds himself grabbing his pan and hurtling toward Colette.
AT THE PASS
Colette is about to add the liquorice sauce when Linguini
swoops in and BLOCKS HER HAND. Colette is STUNNED. Her eyes
FLASH at Linguini, who looks petrified, his left hand holds
his pan of saute, which trembles over the Sweetbread.
Don’t... you... dare.
I’m not, I’m not, I’m--
Linguini dumps his saute over Colette’s dish the moment
before it is swept away by the waiter Mustafa.
Skinner enters, smiling as he walks up to Horst.
Is Linguini’s dish done yet?
Ya. It’s as bad as we remember.
Just went out.
Did you taste it?
Of course... before he changed it.
Good- WHAT? How could he change it?
He changed it as it was going out
Skinner starts toward the door to the dining room, just as
MUSTAFA busts through it, excited.
They love it! Other diners are
already asking about it, about
Linguini. I have seven more orders!
Colette is nonplussed. Skinner FLINCHES, then forces a smile.
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy slaps his paws together, relishing the night ahead.
Crosscut between the dining room and the kitchen: orders pile
up as word of the “special” spreads between diners. Remy
pilots Linguini, preparing plate after plate of their hit.
THE KITCHEN - LATER
The dinner rush is over. The cooks congratulate their new
comrade Linguini, toasting him glasses of table wine.
Skinner watches from across the kitchen, STARING at the boy
with a mixture of confusion, envy and resentment. As Linguini
pass in front of a light Skinner SEES IT: a strange shadow
within Linguini’s toque--
--the SILHOUETTE OF A RAT. Skinner’s EYES going WIDE.
BACK ENTRANCE - GUSTEAU’S
After a quick look around to make sure no one’s watching,
Linguini removes his toque and lets Remy out.
Take a break little Chef, get some
air. We really did it tonight.
Linguini unfolds a napkin, revealing a miniature picnic;
fruit, bread, cheeses. Remy-- pooped but exhilarated-- beams
at Linguini, who raises his glass in a salute to the rat.
Linguini smiles and turns back inside.
KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
We follow Linguini as he crosses the kitchen, humming happily
to himself. PANNING INTO FRAME is SKINNER; perched high atop
a tray rack, waiting like a cat ready to pounce. He SNATCHES
the toque from Linguini’s head--
--and gapes in confusion when he sees nothing on top of the
boy’s head. He looks at Linguini and SMILES.
(dangling the toque)
Got your toque!
Skinner hops to the ground, fluffing the toque with his hand
before handing it back to the mystified Linguini.
Seriously now, I’d love to have a
little talk with you, Linguini...
in my office.
Am I in trouble...?
Trouble? Nooo... a little wine, a
friendly chat. Just us cooks.
Colette watches Skinner steer Linguini into his office.
(to Colette, re: Linguini)
The Plongeur won’t be coming to you
for advice anymore, eh Colette?
(nods to Skinner’s office)
He’s gotten all he needs.
He exits chuckling. Colette slowly turns away, stung.
INSIDE SKINNER’S OFFICE
Skinner settles in behind the massive desk that was formerly
Gusteau’s. Linguini sits uneasily at a chair facing him,
still holding his little glass of wine.
Toasting your success, eh Linguini?
Good for you.
I just took it to be polite, they
were being so nice to me, I don’t
really drink, you know--
Of course you don’t. I wouldn’t
either if I was drinking that--
Skinner plucks the glass from Linguini’s hand, pours it into
a wastebasket, and offers up a newly opened bottle of wine.
-but you would have to be an idiot
of elephantine proportions not to
appreciate this ‘61 Chateau Latour.
And you, M’sieur Linguini, are no
(raising his glass)
Let us toast your non-idiocy! A
They clink... and DRINK.
OUTSIDE KITCHEN - BACK ENTRANCE - GUSTEAU’S
Remy munches contentedly and stares at the starry sky, loving
his bread, his cheese, his life. He breaks the top off a
grape and-- holding the stem like a wine glass-- slowly sips
it into a raisin.
Something STIRS behind the trash cans. Remy FREEZES, suddenly
alert. Some kind of CREATURE is eating in the shadows. Remy
grabs the cheese knife and timidly goes to investigate.
The creature LOOKS UP, its glowing eyes fix on Remy. Remy
GULPS, raises the knife. The creature LEAPS into the light--
They rush to each other, hugging and laughing.
What are you doing here?! I
thought I’d never see you
I can’t believe it! You’re
alive! You made it! We
figured you didn’t survive
And what are you eating??
Emile stares at Remy, chewing. He looks down, pondering the
unrecognizable wad in his hands for a long beat. He FROWNS.
I don’t really know. I think it was
some sort of wrapper once.
Remy grabs the wad and throws it away with a flourish.
You’re in Paris now, baby. My town.
No brother of mine eats rejectamenta
in my town!
Remy turns on his heel and marches back into the kitchen.
KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER
Remy climbs to the pull handle on the FOOD SAFE DOOR and
hesitates there. LAUGHTER emanates from inside of Skinner’s
office. Remy leaps to the handle and with considerable effort
pushes it open, UNLOCKING the massive door. GUSTEAU appears.
Remy... you are stealing? You told
Linguini he could trust you.
And he can. It’s for my brother...
The boy could lose his job.
Which means I would, too. It’s
under control, okay?
Remy shoves past the Gusteau spite and into the safe. The
INSIDE SKINNER’S OFFICE - SAME TIME
Linguini sits back in his chair, looking a bit tipsy.
I shouldn’t. But okay.
He offers his glass to Skinner, who refills it generously.
So where did you train, Linguini?
Surely you don’t expect me to
believe this is your first time
I KNEW IT!
(stops, counts on fingers)
...second, third, four-- fifth
time. Monday was my first time.
But I’ve taken out the garbage lots
of times before this, that’s why I--
(cutting him off, pouring)
Yes yes yes. Have some more wine.
Tell me about your interests. Do
you like animals?
What--? Animals? What kind?
Oh, the usual. Dogs, cats, horses,
BACK ENTRANCE - GUSTEAU’S - MINUTES LATER
Remy carries a small bundle of gourmet foodstuffs from the
kitchen, only to find Emile again munching on garbage.
I brought you something to-- AGH!!
No no NO! Spit that out right now!
(Emile does, shamed)
I have GOT to teach you about food!
Close your eyes.
As Emile closes his eyes, his SURROUNDINGS FADE TO BLACK.
Remy delicately holds a hunk of cheese under Emile’s nose--
Now... take a bite of thi--
Emile INHALES it. Horrified, Remy scolds him like a bad pet.
-NO NO NO! Don’t just hork it down!
Annoyed, Remy hands him another piece of cheese. Emile eats
it, this time more carefully.
Chew it slowly... think only about
the taste. See?
A vague, grayish BLOB half-forms above his head. It MOVES to
undefined MUSIC as Emile struggles to experience the food...
Creamy, salty sweet. An oaky
nuttiness? You detect that?
Emile opens his eyes (surroundings reappear), looks at Remy.
Oh, I’m detecting nuttiness.
Close your eyes. Now taste this.
(gives him a strawberry)
Whole different thing, right?
Sweet, crisp, slight tang on the
The BLOB reappears, but this time with a hint of color.
Now try them together. Uh-huh. See?
Emile eats both together and chews, concentrating. Slowly the
weak COLORS become bolder and more complimentary. They begin
to dance and intermingle as a little MELODY takes shape...
Okay... I think I’m getting a
little something there. It might be
the nuttiness. Could be the tang.
That’s it! Now imagine every great
taste in the world being combined
into infinite combinations, tastes
that no one has tried yet!!
Discoveries to be made!
I think--- you lost me again.
Emile opens his eyes. The SHAPES and SOUND FADE AWAY. Sensing
Remy’s disappointment, Emile reassures him.
But that was interesting. Most
interesting garbage I ever-- HEY!
What are we doing? Dad doesn’t know
you’re alive. We’ve gotta go to the
colony!! Everyone will be thrilled!
Yeah... but, uh... thing is, I
kinda have to... uh...
Remy gestures vaguely at the kitchen. Emile frowns.
What? What do you “hafta” more than
family? What’s more important?
He glares furiously at Remy, whose resolve starts to crumble.
Well, it wouldn’t hurt to visit...
INSIDE SKINNER’S OFFICE - STILL LATER
A few EMPTY BOTTLES of wine litter Skinner’s desk. Linguini
is BOMBED, but Skinner’s increasingly desperate inquisition
is getting nowhere.
Have you ever had a pet rat??
Did you work in a lab with
Perhaps you lived in squalor
at some point??
Nopety nopety new.
I KNOW you know something about
RATS! You know you do!!
You know who know do whacka do.
Ratta tatta- hey! Why do they call
Ratatouille. There’s a dish called
that, it’s like a stew, right? Why
do they call it that? If you’re
gonna name a food you should give
it a name that sounds delicious.
Ratatouille doesn’t sound
delicious. It sounds like rat. And
patooty. Rat patooty! Which does
NOT sound delicious.
Linguini drinks, finds his glass empty. He smiles, offering
his glass for Skinner to refill.
He drops the empty bottle into the trash with a loud THUNK.
--we are all out of wine.
INSIDE SEWER - RAT COMMONS - A LITTLE LATER
Several channels converge into a wide, open area as dreary
and uninviting as any sewer, save for a flotilla of tiny
BOATS illuminated by a scattering of multi-colored lanterns
that answer the gloom with magic.
Holding their clasped paws up victoriously, Django turns from
Remy to face the assembled crowd of rats.
MY SON... HAS RETURNED!
An enormous CHEER erupts. Emile joins Django and Remy as the
clan crowds around them. Remy’s joy is clouded with doubt;
what about his new life?
RAT ENCAMPMENT - LATER
A PARTY is in full swing. The entire rat clan has come out to
bop to boisterous MUSIC played by a jazzy RAT BAND, kicking
down the jams in a unique gypsy/jitterbug dance style that
takes full advantage of their tails and all four legs.
Joined by his sons, Django sits at a prime table. A WAITER
RAT quickly serves a round of drinks in well-worn thimbles
between them. Emile and Django suck theirs down. Remy takes a
discreet whiff and sets it aside.
And finding someone to replace you
for poison checker has been a
disaster. Nothing’s been poisoned,
thank God, but it hasn’t been easy.
You didn’t make it easy.
I know. I am sorry, Dad.
Well, the important thing is that
Yeah... well, uh, about that...
You look thin. Why is that? A
shortage of food or a surplus of
Emile joins in as Django cracks up at his own joke.
It’s tough out there in the big
world all alone, isn’t it?
Sure... but, it’s not like I’m a
A well-wisher drops by to say hello to Django. Remy takes
advantage of the distraction to quickly deliver the bad news.
I can take care of myself. I’ve
found a nice spot not far away, so
I’ll be able to visit often.
Nothing like a cold splash of
reality to make you--
I will, I promise. Often.
You’re not staying?
It’s not a big deal, Dad.
You didn’t think I was going to
stay forever, did you? Eventually a
bird’s gotta leave the nest.
We’re not birds, we’re rats. We
don’t leave nests, we make them
Maybe I’m different kind of rat.
Maybe you’re not a rat at all.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
(trying to break tension)
Hey, the band’s really on tonight!
Rats! All we do is take, Dad. I’m
tired of taking. I want to make
things! I want to add something to
You’re talking like a human.
Who are not as bad as you say.
What makes you so sure?
Remy hesitates for a beat, suddenly careful.
I’ve uh, been able to, uh, observe
them at a close-ish sort of range.
Yeah? How close?
Close enough. And they’re, y’know,
not so bad. As you say. They are.
Django GLARES at Remy, scrutinizing him.
Come with me... I got something I
want you to see.
He moves from the table, dropping to all fours and heading
off. Reluctantly, Remy does likewise, leaving Emile alone.
You know... I think I’ll stay here.
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S RESTAURANT - SAME TIME
The sound of raindrops patter against the skylight. Skinner,
bundled up in a well-tailored overcoat, throws a scarf around
his neck. Linguini tipsily hands him his beret.
Make sure the floors and countertops
are clean before you lock up.
You want me to... stay and clean?
Is that a problem?
Linguini slumps and drunkenly shakes his head “no”.
Good boy. See you tomorrow.
Skinner exits, humming. Linguini watches him go with weary
eyes. He turns to face the messy kitchen... and wilts.
PARIS STREET - NIGHT
It’s raining harder now. Django and Remy arrive at a drain
opening, through which can be glimpsed the rough cobblestones
of a city street.
Django scrambles out the curb-side drain and turns to face
the storefront behind them. Remy sits next to him and looks
up, following his father’s gaze. His jaw drops in horror.
Displayed in the window of the small shop are a variety of
nasty looking metal traps, RAT TRAPS to be precise, and along
side of those hang row after row of DEAD RATS.
Take a good, long look, Remy. This
is what happens when a rat gets a
little too comfortable around
Remy looks away. Django’s tone is tender, but firm.
The world we live in belongs to the
enemy. We must live carefully. We
look out for our own kind, Remy.
When all is said and done, we’re
all we’ve got.
His point made, Django turns to go. Remy stares up at the
horrible window, then softly says--
(stops in his tracks)
No. Dad, I don’t believe it. You’re
telling me that the future is-- can
(points at window)
--more of this?
This... is the way things are. You
can’t change nature.
Change IS nature, Dad. The part
that we can influence. And it
starts when we decide.
With that, Remy turns and-- walking upright on two legs--
starts back to Gusteau’s. Django calls after him.
Where you goin’?
With luck... forward.
OUTSIDE BACK KITCHEN ENTRANCE - GUSTEAU’S - MORNING
The storm has passed and the sky is cloudless and clear. As a
weary Remy exits the sewer, the fresh air hits his nostrils
and he draws it in like a sweet memory.
He exhales, renewed and happy to be back in his brave new
world. Forgetting himself, he trots for the kitchen entrance
on two legs, throwing a reckless wave at a passing CYCLIST.
The cyclist DOUBLE-TAKES, craning his neck to look at the
bizarre sight-- and collides with a parked car.
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S RESTAURANT
Remy enters and looks around. No one has arrived yet. Remy
steps on to the counter top and surveys the kitchen, savoring
the day ahead. And then he hears the sound. SNORING.
He TAKES COVER and peers out. No one is there, but the
SNORING persists. He peers cautiously over the edge--
--as Remy walks forward, REVEALING:
LINGUINI-- curled up on the floor and slumbering like a
vagrant. Remy looks at the clock, realizing with horror that
the others are about to arrive.
Remy jumps onto Linguini’s head like a rough rider on a
fallen horse and-- expertly TUGGING hanks of Linguini’s hair,
manages to get the boy up on his feet.
But Linguini remains FAST ASLEEP. Remy lifts one of
Linguini’s heavy EYELIDS and waves frantically at a staring
eye-- but Linguini is OUT COLD.
The SOUND of a motorcycle arriving at the rear entrance
causes Remy to looks around in desperation. He spies a pair
of SUNGLASSES near the cook’s lockers.
Colette ENTERS, unpleasantly surprised to find LINGUINI
already at work. She crosses to their station and starts
prep. Remy has hidden Linguini’s shut eyes behind sunglasses,
unintentionally giving him the air of a smug ROCK STAR.
Though Linguini remains fast ASLEEP, Remy pulls his hair to
keep the boy’s limbs working somewhat convincingly.
INTERCUT: UNDER LINGUINI’S TOQUE/ COLETTE & LINGUINI
Remy pulls hair, nervously puppeting the sleeping Linguini.
How can he make Linguini answer? He PULLS a side hair hank--
--causing Linguini’s head to loll to Colette, give her a lazy
nod, then turn back to his work.
So. The Chef. He invited you in for
a drink? That’s big... that’s big.
What did he say?
UNDER LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy hesitates. There’s no hair he can pull for speech!
Desperate, he pulls the head-turn hair again.
Linguini’s head lolls lazily back to Colette, the effect
being a smug “What do you think he said, babe?”
What-- you can’t tell me?
Linguini is silent. He resumes cutting. Colette goes cold.
Oh. Forgive me for intruding on
your deep, personal relationship
with the Chef. I see how it is. You
get me to teach you a few kitchen
tricks to dazzle the boss, and then
you blow past me?
UNDER LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Things are going bad fast. Remy keeps Linguini chopping,
hoping desperately for an idea to salvage the situation.
Ca’mon. Wake up... wake up--!
Linguini keeps chopping vegetables like a hip zombie. His
smirking face rolls in Colette’s direction.
I thought you were different. I
thought you thought I was
different. I thought--
Now, seemingly looking straight at her, Linguini SNORES.
Colette GASPS and delivers a roundhouse SLAP to Linguini’s
face. Linguini CORKSCREWS and CRASHES to the floor.
Linguini-- now completely awake and utterly confused at the
crucial chunk of his life he’s somehow missed-- looks up at
the furious Colette with wide eyes.
I didn’t have to help you. If I
looked out only for myself, I could
have let you drown. But--
(this is hard for her)
--I wanted you to succeed. I liked
you. My mistake.
Colette turns, storming out the kitchen’s back door. Both
Linguini and Remy- who peers out of Linguini’s fallen toque,
watch he go. Linguini turns to Remy.
It’s over, Little Chef. I can’t do
it any more.
He grabs the toque with Remy inside and runs after Colette.
OUTSIDE GUSTEAU’S - ALLEY BEHIND KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Colette is already on her motorcycle. Linguini runs to her.
Stop--! Don’t motorcycle away--
(She atops, looks at him)
Look. I’m no good with words. I’m
no good with food, either. At least
not without your help.
I hate false modesty. It’s just
another way to lie. You have talentLINGUINI
But I don’t! Really! It’s not me!
UNDER LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy eyes widen: this can’t be happening.
RESUME LINGUINI & COLETTE
And when I added those extra
ingredients instead of following
the recipe like you said-- that
wasn’t me either!
What do you mean?
I mean I wouldn’t have done that. I
would’ve followed the recipe, I
would’ve followed your advice. I
would’ve followed your advice to
the ends of the earth because I
love-- your advice.
But... I have a secret.
UNDER LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy’s really getting worried now.
Don’t do it...
Colette’s eyes narrow. She’s not liking the sound of this.
It’s sort of disturbing.
Linguini chuckles sheepishly, then straightens as if to make
an announcement, taking a deep breath.
I have a rr... aah--uht...
I have a rahh... tshCOLETTE
You have a rash?
NO! No... I have this tiny... a
little, uh... little... a--
(quickly blurts it out)
-tiny chef who tells me what to do.
A tiny chef.
Yes... yes, he’s... uh, uhhhmmn...
(points to toque)
...he’s up here--
In your brain.
Why is it so hard to talk to you??
Okay. Here we go. You-- inspire me.
I’m going to risk it all. I’m going
to risk looking like the biggest
idiot psycho you’ve ever seen.
Colette is starting to get scared. We follow her HAND as it
drops discreetly into her BAG and emerges clutching a tiny
cannister of PEPPER SPRAY. Linguini continues, impassioned.
You wanna know why I’m such a fast
learner? Why I’m such a great cook?
Don’t laugh! I’m going to show you--
Colette looks WORRIED. With great resolve and trembling
hands, Linguini slowly reaches up to remove his toque--
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Through the cloth Remy watches LINGUINI’S HANDS CLOSING IN--
about to expose him and ruin it all! He YANKS on Linguini’s
hair, thrusting Linguini forward toward Colette’s face--
--as he plants a big KISS on Colette’s lips. Colette is
frozen, pepper spray in hand, her shock and surprise
surpassed only by Linguini’s own.
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
With furrowed brows and gritted teeth, Remy maintains
Linguini’s forward thrust kiss. This could go either way.
INTERCUT LINGUINI & COLETTE
--as they continue their startled kiss, their eyes flash
through a myriad of emotions; surprise, fear, anger,
vulnerability, happiness, and finally-- surrender. Their arms
wrap around each other.
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy COLLAPSES with relief. For the moment anyway, the
fragile charade survives.
INSIDE EGO’S OFFICE - LATE AFTERNOON
A very tall, very narrow room, simultaneously grand and
claustrophobic. Its soaring windows are framed by heavy
velvet drapes pulled nearly shut, allowing in only a thin
sliver of pale light.
The few pieces of antique furniture in the room are equally
tall, narrow, straight-backed and uncomfortable looking.
The faded burgundy walls are decorated with framed
photographs and magazine covers, precisely arranged around a
massive PORTRAIT PAINTING. Their single subject, a tall,
cadaverous man dressed in an expensive suit; ANTON EGO--
--the same Anton Ego who now sits at a desk that is the rooms
focal point, looming over an ancient typewriter like a
vulture with better posture.
The rooms lone door opens, and a short, pudgy man in his midthirties
enters. This is Ego’s assistant, AMBRISTER MINION.
What is it, Ambrister?
Finally closing is it?
More financial trouble?
--announced a new line of microwave
eggroles, what? Spit it out.
--it’s come back. It’s...
Ego looks up, eyes flashing.
I haven’t reviewed Gusteau’s in
Ego pulls open his files, deftly riffling through folders.
My last review condemned it to the
Ego locates the review and plucks it from the files, reading
it aloud as if it were divinely inspired.
“Gusteau has finally found his
rightful place in history, right
alongside another, equally famous
Chef-- Monsieur ‘Boyardee’”.
Rising from his desk, Ego moves menacingly toward Minion.
That is where I left it. That was
my last word. THE last word.
Then tell me, Ambrister...
Ego now LOOMS over the cowering Minion.
... how could it be... “popular”?
SKINNER’S OFFICE - DAY
Skinner is seated at his desk, his head in his hands. Talon
sits in a chair across from him, sipping an espresso.
No no no NO NO NOOO!
(matter of fact)
The DNA matches, the timing works,
everything checks out. He is
This can’t just-- happen! The whole
thing is a set-up! The boy knows!
Skinner goes to his window, parts the blinds to the kitchen.
Look at him out there... pretending
to be an idiot! He’s toying with my
mind, like a cat with a ball! Of...
Yes! Playing dumb! Taunting me with
Yes! He’s consorting with it!
Deliberately trying to make me
think it’s important!
The lawyer is watching Skinner now, eyes wide with worry.
Is the rat... “important”?
Of course not! He just wants me to
think that it is! Oh, I see the
theatricality of it; a rat appears
on the boy’s first night, I order
him to kill it and now he wants me
to see it everywhere-- woooooooo--
(snaps fingers wildly)
-it’s here, no it isn’t, it’s HERE!
Am I seeing things, am I crazy, is
there a phantom rat or is there
not? But ohhh no! I refuse to be
sucked into his little game... of--
Skinner is suddenly aware that Talon is staring at him.
Should I be concerned about this?
Linguini/Remy are cooking. As Colette walks by, Linguini’s
eyes, then head start to follow her--
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy wonders why Linguini’s head has drifted away from the
task at hand. He looks up: sees Colette. Rolling his eyes at
Linguini’s limited concentration, he pulls Linguini’s hair--
Linguini’s head jerks face forward. He frowns, annoyed at
Remy’s correction. Colette is cooking at the oven behind him
now. And Linguini’s eyes have drifted back to her..
...following the curves of her legs slowly up... to her FACE.
She turns, catching him-- and SMILES. He smiles back.
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
With waning patience, Remy again JERKS Remy back on task.
SKINNER’S OFFICE - SAME TIME
Skinner PACES back and forth in front of Talon.
I can’t fire him! He’s getting
attention! If I fire him now
everyone will wonder why and the
last thing I want is people looking
What are you so worried about?
Isn’t it good to have the press?
Isn’t it good to have Gusteau’s
name getting headlines?
(points at Linguini photo)
Not if they’re over HIS face!!
Gusteau’s already has a face, and
it’s fat and lovable and familiar!
And it sells burritos! Millions and
millions of burritos!
The deadline passes in three days,
then you can fire him whenever he
ceases to be a valuable. You’re
still in charge, and no one will
Talon prepares to leave, hesitates at the door--
You know, I was worried about the
hair sample you gave me. I had to
send it back to the lab.
Because the first time it came back
identified as “rodent hair”.
Talon shrugs, chuckles and EXITS. Skinner stares, HAUNTED.
Under Remy’s direction, Linguini reaches for a spice. Colette
interrupts, handing him another one.
No, no. Try this. It’s better.
UNDER THE TOQUE
Remy looks at the offered spice, and scowls; he begs to
differ. As Linguini reaches to take the spice, Remy pulls
back on his hair--
INTERCUT: LINGUINI & COLETTE WITH REMY
Linguini FLINCHES, his hand HESITATING; withdrawing then
Colette watches this odd display, still holding the spice
out. Linguini grabs the wrist of his reaching hand, forcing
it toward the spices, as--
--REMY TUGS at Linguini’s hair, directing him just as hard in
the opposite direction. It’s a battle for control--
--that Linguini WINS; his hand finally grabs he spice tin. He
smiles at Colette.
Underneath the toque, Remy GRIMACES.
ALLEYWAY BEHIND KITCHEN - LATER
The dinner rush finished, Linguini and Colette exit the
kitchen laughing and holding hands. She pulls him aboard her
motorcycle and they peel out into the young Paris night.
PARIS STREETS - TRAVELING - NIGHT
Linguini and Colette laugh and scream as the wind rips by,
Linguini barely able to hang on to his toque and we realize--
--REMY IS STILL INSIDE, HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE! As Colette
takes a sharp turn, Linguini drops his arms to steady himself-
--and his TOQUE (WITH REMY INSIDE) FLIES OFF HIS HEAD and
tumbles to the street! Dazed, Remy emerges from the battered
toque to see Colette’s cycle disappear over the horizon!
Car horns BLARE. Remy turns to see a massive WALL OF TRAFFIC
barreling toward him. He dives clear as CARS roar past,
wheels screech and lights flash in all directions as he madly
scrambles out of their way, finally making it to the curb.
Remy looks up as a young woman recoils, jumping back into her
Her escort swats at Remy with his coat. Remy runs, jumping
into a nearby STORM DRAIN.
INSIDE THE STORM DRAIN
Remy tumbles to the cement floor, his heart pounding. Through
the grate he sees the legs of the WOMAN and her ESCORT.
Disgusting little creatures...
Remy listens, pained. He spies his reflection in a pool of
water at this feet. He turns, slowly disappearing into the
I was reminded how fragile it all
was. How the world really saw me.
And it just kept getting better...
OUTSIDE BACK ENTRANCE - GUSTEAU’S - DAWN
Remy emerges from the curb drain, turns into the alley behind
GUSTEAU’S and heads up the back steps...
Remy turns. EMILE peeks out from behind the trash cans, where
he waits with a GROUP OF RATS, including GIT, the lab rat.
Hey little brother! We were afraid
you weren’t gonna show up!
Hey Remy. Howya doin’?
Remy takes Emile aside, speaking in an angry whisper.
You told them? Emile, that’s
exactly what I said not to do!
But they’re my friends. I didn’t
think you meant-- I was telling ‘em
about tasting, about the nutty tang
and look, I’m sorry. I’m sorryREMY
Don’t tell me you’re sorry, tell
them you’re sorryGIT
There a problem over here?
(SCOWLS at Emile)
No, there is not. Wait here.
KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER
Assured the kitchen is empty, Remy hops to door handle of the
food safe and grabs it with both arms, plants his feet on the
door and pulls. The handle doesn’t budge, the door is LOCKED.
Remy is puzzled. He looks toward SKINNER’S OFFICE.
Remy enters, a little nervous, and scampers up to Skinner’s
desk. A framed black and white PHOTO of Gusteau speaks.
Remy, what are you doing in here?
Emile shows up-- I said not to, but
he goes and blabs- it’s a disaster.
Anyway, they’re hungry, the food
safe is locked, I need the key.
They want you to steal food?
Yes. No-- it’s complicated. It’s
family. They don’t have your idealsThe
collection of cardboard GUSTEAU STANDEES come to life:
Ideals? If Chef Fancy Pants had any
ideals you think I’d be hawkin’
barbecue over here?
Or Microwave burritos?
Or tooth- I say, toothpickin’
Chicken? S’about as
French as a Corn Dog!
The SKETCH of Gusteau as a dog-like ear of corn BARKS.
CORN DOG GUSTEAU
(waves COMING SOON sign)
Woof! Rumming Roon! *
HAH! We’re inventin’ new ways
to sell out over here!
Will ye’ be wantin’ some
HAGGIS BITES, then?
I cannot control how they use
my image Remy, I am dead!
Will you guys SHUT UP??
(they do, instantly)
I’ve gotta think!
Remy climbs over the edge of Skinner’s desk, pushes open the
drawer, and begins to rummage through its contents.
Word’s getting out and if I can’t
keep them quiet...the entire clan’s
going to be after me with their
mouths open and-
(he finds the key)
--ah! Here it is. Hey...
Remy notices a FILE labeled “Gusteau: Last Will & Testament”.
He turns to the Gusteau portrait.
This used to be my office.
Remy pulls the file from the drawer and lays it on the desk.
This is interesting. Mind if I--?
Not at all.
Remy flips open the file. There, alongside Gusteau’s will,
are recent press clippings featuring LINGUINI, and the letter
to Skinner from Linguini’s mother.
“Linguini”..? Why would Linguini be
filed with your will?
MUSIC BUILDS as Remy reads; his eyes jumping between the
LETTER and the WILL, his eyes getting BIGGER until--
HE’S YOUR SON?!
I... have a SON??
YES. How could you not know this?!
I am a figment of your imagination!
You did not know. How could I?
Well, YOUR SON is the rightful
owner of this restaurant!
SKINNER OPENS the office door and FREEZES-- stunned by the
bizarre sight of a RAT on his desk top. Remy SNATCHES the
DOCUMANTS in his mouth and RUNS.
OUTSIDE BACK KITCHEN ENTRANCE - MORNING - CONTINUOUS
Remy races out into the street. Hot on his heels, Skinner
runs smack into LALO on a moped. Before the mortified Lalo
can apologize Skinner is back on his feet.
No... NO! The rat! It’s stolen my
documents! It’s getting away!!
With an crazed shriek, Skinner pushes Lalo off the scooter,
jumps on and roars off down the street.
PARIS STREETS - CONTINUOUS
Skinner screeches to a stop at the INTERSECTION, looks around
wildly for Remy. He sights the DOCUMENTS scampering through
traffic and guns the motor, recklessly giving chase.
NEAR THE SEINE - MOVING WITH SKINNER
Closing in on Remy, Skinner reaches down to snatch the
documents when the rat suddenly VEERS. Skinner’s Moped
plunges down a flight of steps to the river, where it lays in
a heap at the bottom. Skinner looks up, sees--
REMY-- looking down at him from the balustrade, documents
still clutched in his mouth. Remy LAUGHS. A gust from a
passing BUS sweeps the WILL from Remy’s open jaws and high
into the air, where it flutters out over the river’s edge.
MOVING ALONG THE BANKS - CONTINUOUS
SKINNER sees his chance. He clambers aboard the Moped and
takes off after the will, dodging obstacles and passers-by to
pursue from the banks below. Remy chases it from the
balustrade above, the letter still in his mouth.
THE WILL begins to descend, flitting toward Skinner below,
who reaches for it, his fingers spreading wide--
Remy makes two desperate LEAPS; from the balustrade to a
tree, from the tree into the air just above Skinner where he--
INTERCEPTS the will-- sailing toward the water and landing
with a FWOP on the canvas roof of a Bateux Mouche. Remy can’t
believe he’s got both documents again.
Neither can Skinner. He ditches the Moped and LEAPS to the
deck of the Seine boat.
ON THE SEINE - MOVING BETWEEN THE BOATS
Remy, documents in mouth, leaps to another passing boat,
Skinner still hot on his tail.
A jam of water traffic keeps this game alive, the two leaping
from boat to boat, but the last leap, to a DINING BOAT- is
too far. Remy tries anyway; launching into the air, the
documents in his mouth sweep back like WINGS and he--
--catches an updraft! He SAILS across the gulf, landing
miraculously on the deck.
Skinner crazily follows, making the leap of his life as he
stretches out for the dining boats’ railing and--
--falls short, grasping instead the tablecloth of a couple
dining near the railing, which he yanks out from under their
breakfast like an inept magician as he--
--plunges into the river. Skinner sputters in the middle of
the Seine as Remy hops up to a bridge passing overhead,
scampering safely away with Skinner’s papers.
GUSTEAU’S - SKINNER’S OFFICE - AN HOUR LATER
Skinner returns to his office, soaked and furious... only to
find LINGUINI sitting at his desk.
You?? Get out of my office.
He’s not in your office. You are in
Colette holds up GUSTEAU’S WILL. Skinner’s jaw drops. He
looks at Linguini, who can only shrug with embarrassment.
THE FRONT PAGE OF A NEWSPAPER
--spins into a close up. Above a PHOTO OF LINGUINI, a deer-inheadlights
look on his face, a HEADLINE reads:
RISING STAR CHEF DECLARED LEGAL OWNER OF GUSTEAU’S
INSIDE SKINNER’S (NOW LINGUINI’S) OFFICE - DAY
Linguini is surrounded by the other COOKS, who raise flutes
of champagne in a toast to their new owner. Laughing, Colette
and Linguini hug. Watching from the shadows, REMY smiles.
SERIES OF SHOTS, to music, illustrating (A) Linguini’s rise,
(B) Skinner’s fall, and (C)the happy changes to GUSTEAU’S.
(A) Various NEWSPAPER headlines: “LINGUINI CANCELS FROZEN
FOOD” “GUSTEAU’S REGAINS A LOST STAR”. Linguini shows Remy
their new, larger apartment.
(B) A disheveled Skinner alternates between spying on
Gusteau’s (looking for the rat in the kitchen) and stewing
(over the loss of his little empire, and the glowing press
coverage of Linguini).
(C) Linguini and Colette raise the blinds in Skinner’s old
office, opening it to light and a clear view of the Kitchen.
In the alley behind the kitchen, the COOKS symbolically burn
the GUSTEAU STANDEES created to promote Skinner’s hated
FROZEN FOOD line. All cheer as the FLAMES rise higher.
DINING AREA - GUSTEAU’S - EARLY EVENING - DAYS LATER
FLASHES POP. Linguini sits at a table, posing for photos.
Several JOURNALISTS hover nearby shouting questions.
Chef Linguini! Chef Linguini!
Your rise has been meteoric, and
yet you have no formal training.
What is the secret to your genius?
INSIDE LINGUINI’S TOQUE
Remy reacts to the question, looking down at the head beneath
him as if to say: ”Yeah smart guy, what is your secret?”
I’m Auguste Gusteau’s son. It’s in
my blood, I guess.
But you weren’t aware of that fact
until very recently--
--and it resulted in your taking
ownership of this restaurant. How
did you find out?
ON REMY: His face says “Because I risked my neck”.
Some part of me just knew...
(lamely, trying it out)
...the Gusteau part...?
UNDER THE TOQUE
Remy tugs a hair tuft, causing Linguini to bop himself in the
head with his frying pan.
Where do you get your inspiration?
Again, Remy pricks up his ears.
Inspiration has many names. Mine is
An outraged SQUEAK erupts from inside Linguini’s toque.
Linguini quickly muffles Remy’s squeaks with both hands as he
sets his toque down on the table. Linguini sucks on his
teeth, making a squeaking sound.
Something stuck in my teeth.
OFFICES - MINISTRY OF HEALTH - DAY
Drab and cluttered. A battered telephone rings at the desk of
NADAR LESSARD, a bored bureaucrat. He turns from a pile of
paperwork and answers.
PHONE BOOTH - ACROSS FROM GUSTEAU’S - SAME TIME
Anxious, unshaven, and wrapped in a trench coat that makes
him look vaguely like a pervert, Skinner speaks into a pay
phone as he stares at the line of dinner customers across the
street, waiting to enter Gusteau’s. INTERCUT as needed.
I wish to report a rat infestation.
It’s taken over my restauran-- er--
Gusteau’s, eh? I can drop by.
(consults appointment log)
First opening is... three months.
It must happen now!
Monsieur, I have the information,
if someone cancels I’ll slot you
But... but the rat, it--
Lessard hangs up. Skinner listens to the dial tone, deflated.
--stole my documents...
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S RESTAURANT
Horst looks at the clock, scowls, and turns to Colette.
It’s past opening time.
He should’ve finished an hour ago.
She heaves an annoyed sigh and heads out to the dining area.
Colette enters the swirl of activity to confront Linguini. He
shoots her a cocky smile, offering her a glass of champagne.
Bon jour, Mon Cherie. Join us. We
were talking about my inspirationCOLETTE
Yes, he calls it his “tiny Chef”...
Linguini muffles another SQUEAK of protest from under his
toque. He shoots Colette a reprimanding look, leans in and
says in a low, tight voiceLINGUINI
Not that, dearest... I meant you.
Just then the front door swings open, spilling cold light and
air into the warmth of the restaurant. The press swings its
attention to the tall, backlit spectre at the entrance,
whispering his legendary name: “Ego”. He glides through them
without acknowledging their presence, and stops in front of
Linguini, who is still seated.
You are Monsieur Linguini?
Pardon me for interrupting your...
premature celebration. But I
thought it only fair to give you a
sporting chance as you are new to
UNDER THE TOQUE
Remy watches with fear and awe.
Yes. And you’ve been playing without
an opponent. Which is, as you
may have guessed, against the
You’re Anton Ego.
Ego chuckles, turning to the gallery, a lion almost
sympathetic toward the sacrificial lamb.
You’re slow for someone in the fast
And you’re thin for someone who
The lamb bites back. A murmur of surprised delight ripples
through the assembled. Ego’s eyes FLASH.
I don’t “like” food, I love it. If
I don’t love it, I don’t-- swallow.
Linguini SWALLOWS. Upper hand regained, Ego sniffs--
I will return tomorrow night with
high expectations. Pray you don’t
Ego turns and sweeps out of the restaurant. There is a heavy
PAUSE. Colette turns to the assembled press.
Listen, we hate to be rude, but...
we’re French. And it’s dinner time.
She pulls Linguini from the table and heads to the kitchen.
He calls back to the press in apology--
She meant to say “it’s dinner time,
and we’re French”--!
HEAD CHEF’S OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER
Remy stands on the desk top, glowering at Linguini.
Don’t give me that look. You were
distracting me in front of the
press. How am I supposed to
concentrate with you yanking my
hair all the time?
Linguini sticks out his hand, offering Remy a now familiar
ramp to his post atop Linguini’s head. Remy shoots Linguini
an “about time” look, climbs up his arm and under his toque.
And that’s another thing. Your
opinion isn’t the only one that
matters here. Colette knows how to
cook too, you know--
UNDER THE TOQUE
The last straw. Remy grabs a hair hank and pulls-- too hard.
--- OW!! Alright that’s it!!
OUTSIDE BACK KITCHEN ENTRANCE - DUSK
The door bangs open, Linguini storms out, mashing his toque
against his head, angrily shuts the door behind him. He yanks
his toque off and gets in Remy’s tiny face--
You take a break, little chef. I’m
not your puppet, and you’re not my--
uh, puppet... controlling... guy.
FROM THE ROOF ABOVE
SKINNER watches this strange scene, his jaw hanging open...
The rat is the cook...!
You cool off and get your mind
right, little chef. Ego is coming
and I’ve gotta focus!
Skinner watches as Linguini storms back into the kitchen. He
EXITS, ducking down the fire escape.
REMY you stupid... He’s FURIOUS. In a pint-sized fit of rage he kicks a can,
then, tottering under its weight, picks up a bottle to throw
against the wall and suddenly finds himself face to face with-
--EMILE and his RAT PALS.
Wow. I’ve never seen that before.
Yeah... it’s like you’re his fluffy
bunny or something.
The other rats laugh. Remy’s face goes hard.
I’m sorry about all the guys, Remy.
I tried to limit them, but--
You know what? It’s okay.
I’ve been selfish. You guys hungry?
(RATS respond eagerly)
Dinner’s on me. We’ll go after
closing time. In fact--
(to Emile, evil grin)
--tell Dad to bring the whole clan.
LINGUINI’S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Linguini returns, calling out in the darkened apartment.
He looks in Remy’s little sleeping area, finding it EMPTY.
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S - NIGHT
Horst puts the kitchen to bed. He pulls on his coat and turns
the LIGHTS OUT. Beat. A metal GRATE in the floor lifts up,
Remy and Django peek out.
This is great, son. An inside job.
I see the appeal--!
Remy climbs out, looks around, signals the coast is clear. An
army of RATS- a crack FOOD THEFT UNIT- pour in after him,
mobilizing effectively to raid the vault as he opens the
door, when all of a sudden--
--LINGUINI RETURNS to the kitchen.
Little Chef...? Little Chef?
The CLAN RATS instantly freeze, camouflaging themselves. It
is both amazing and precarious, any close look will betray
the deception. Remy steps out, revealing himself to Linguini.
Hey, Little Chef. I thought you
went back to the apartment. Then
when you weren’t there, I don’t
know, it didn’t seem right--
As Linguini opens up to Remy, we cut to QUICK SHOTS: visual
gags of the rat clan hiding in plain sight, desperate to
avoid discovery. Remy listens, distracted.
--to leave things the way we did so
I came back, hoping you’d be here.
And here you are.
Linguini is so absorbed in his own feelings that he’s utterly
blind to the fact that the food safe door is ajar, and that
he’s caught the rats MID-HEIST.
Look. I don’t want to fight. I’ve
been under a lot of- you know,
pressure. A lot has changed in not
very much time, you know. I’m
suddenly a Gusteau and I gotta be a
Gusteau or you know, people will be
disappointed. It’s weird...
INSIDE THE FOOD SAFE: MORE QUICK SHOTS
RATS HIDE; up on the shelves, in EGG CARTONS, inside the
holes in a wedge of SWISS CHEESE, submerged in an open sack
of COFFEE BEANS, leaving only their tiny NOSES visible.
EMILE hides in the center of an ASPARAGUS BUNCH held together
by a rubber band. His eyes latch on to a juicy BUNCH OF
GRAPES, which hang literally in front of his face.
Enticed, he leans forward just enough to get his lips around
the end of a single grape, and s-l-o-w-l-y SUCKS IT OFF THE
STEM into his mouth, swallowing it whole. Mmmnn.
He glances up: another grape beckons. Emile leans for it--
...I’ve never disappointed anyone
before because nobody’s ever
expected anything of me. And the
only reason anyone expects anything
from me now is... because of you.
REMY listens to Linguini, shamed by his kind words.
I haven’t been fair to you. You’ve
never failed me, and I should never
INSIDE THE FOOD SAFE
Emile, now stuffed and lumpy with grapes, eyes the last
REMAINING GRAPE on the stem. Balancing on a CHEESE WHEEL, he
lashes the asparagus rubber band to the shelf and leans out
over the edge, straining to reach the lone grape...
The most honorable friend a guy
could ever ask--
The cheese wheel SHIFTS. Emile loses his balance and falls,
hits the floor spread-eagled. The CHEESE lands on top of him,
causing his bellyful of GRAPES to machine gun from his mouth--
--and hit the back of Linguini’s neck. He TURNS-- sees that
the food safe door is OPEN.
What is this? What’s going on?!
He pulls open the door and flips the light on. The RATS FLEE--
spilling from the shelves in a squeaking, fur covered WAVE
that rushes past Linguini’s feet and out the open door.
(to Remy, betrayed)
You’re stealing food?!
How could you? I-I thought you were
my friend, I trusted you!
OUTSIDE KITCHEN - REAR ENTRANCE - CONTINUOUS
The door bursts open and a flood of rats pour out the rear
door into the alley, Linguini behind them brandishing a mop.
Get out! You and all your rat
buddies! And don’t come back, Or
I’ll treat you the way restaurants
are supposed to treat pests!
Linguini ducks back inside, SLAMMING the door behind him.
Remy stares in silence, devastated by what he’s done. DJANGO
and the rest of the RAT CLAN emerges from the shadows,
gathering around the group including Remy and Emile.
You’re right, Dad. Who am I
kidding? We are what we are, And
Remy turns, unconsciously drops to four legs and walks slowly
away, his voice distant and sad.
Well, he’ll leave soon... and now
you know how to get in. Steal all
You’re not coming?
I’ve lost my appetite.
DINING ROOM - GUSTEAU’S RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Strangely, Linguini is dressed as a WAITER. He waits on a
lone DINER, whose face is hidden behind a menu.
Do you know what you’d like, sir?
The MENU lowers, revealing EGO. He GRINS, ravenous.
Yes; I’d like your heart, roasted
on a spit.
Linguini is frozen in fear, his heart pounding as Ego’s cold
chuckle turns into a ROAR--
INSIDE HEAD CHEF’S OFFICE - MORNING - CONTINUOUS
Linguini AWAKENS. Someone is POUNDING is at his office door.
C--come... COME IN!!
The door opens and Colette leans in, speaking tenderly--
Today is a big day. You should say
something to them.
You are the boss. Inspire them.
KITCHEN - MINUTES LATER
Linguini places a step ladder at the front of the kitchen and
stands on the top step. He clears his throat.
Attention. Attention everyone.
The staff pauses and turns their attentions to Linguini.
Tonight is a big night. Appetite is
coming and he’s going to have a big
(stops, corrects himself)
I mean Ego. He’s coming. The
critic? And he’s going to order.
Something. Something from our menu.
And we’ll have to cook it. Unless
he orders something cold. Like a
The COOKS exchange confused glances. Colette wilts. This is
not the inspiration she had in mind.
OUTSIDE REAR KITCHEN ENTRANCE - GUSTEAU’S - SAME MOMENT
Remy is watching this through the kitchen window. He sighs.
Just can’t leave it alone, can ya’?
Emile is by the trash. Remy HOPS DOWN and walks over to him.
You really shouldn’t be here during
restaurant hours, it’s not safe.
I’m hungry. And I don’t need the
inside food to be happy. The key,
my friend, is to not be picky.
Emile lifts the corner of a toppled-over BOX, exposing a
chunk of CHEESE. Emile chuckles, reaching for the cheese--
Remy grabs Emile’s tail and pulls him clear. A HINGE DROPS,
trapping Remy inside a CAGE. Emile rushes to Remy, panicked.
Oh no! What’ll we do?! I’ll go get
A SHADOW looms over them. Emile quickly hides. SKINNER picks
up the trap/cage, grinning ear to ear.
You may think you are a chef, but
you are still... only a rat.
KITCHEN - SAME TIME
The cooks are sitting now, bored out of their minds. Linguini
is still talking.
-sure he took away a star last time
he reviewed this place. Sure, it
probably killed Gust-- Dad.
(softly to himself)
Oh, this is very bad juju here-o.
But I’ll tell you one thing--
Mustafa bursts through the dining room door, interrupting--
Ego is here.
The air is suddenly sucked from the room. The cooks stand
alert, frightened. Sensing what is needed, Colette steps up.
Anton Ego is just another customer.
An intent look sweeps the faces of the staff. With a burst of
grunts, cries and hand claps they return to work.
(a beat too late)
Yeah--! Let’s-- okay...
STREET NEAR GUSTEAU’S - MOMENTS LATER
Remy’s cage is set down inside the trunk of SKINNER’S CAR.
Remy looks up at Skinner.
So! I have in mind a simple arrangement;
you will create for me a new
line of Chef Skinner frozen foods,
and I, in return, will not kill
Remy STARTLES, looks aghast. Laughing, Skinner SLAMS SHUT the
trunk and EXITS toward the restaurant. Nearby, EMILE watches
Au revoir, rat!
GUSTEAU’S RESTAURANT - DINING AREA - NIGHT
Mustafa draws a deep breath, gathering courage. He turns and
approaches Ego’s table.
Do you know what you’d like this
Ego lifts his gaze to Mustafa.
Yes, I think I do. After reading a
lot of overheated puffery about
your new cook, you know what I’m
craving? A little perspective.
Ego SNAPS his menu shut and hands it to Mustafa.
That’s it. I’d like some fresh,
clear, well-seasoned perspective.
Can you suggest a good wine to go
With what, sir?
Perspective. Fresh out, I take it?
Uh... I’m sorry?
Very well. Since you’re all out of
perspective and no one else seems
to have it in this bloody town,
I’ll make you a deal; you provide
the food, I’ll provide the
perspective. Which would go nicely
with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947.
Uhm... I’m afraid I-- I didn’t...
your dinner selection...?
Ego jumps to his feet, suddenly eye to eye with Mustafa.
Tell your “Chef Linguini” that I
want whatever he dares to serve to
me. Tell him to “hit me with his
Mustafa scurries off. Seated at a nearby table (and disguised
in a trenchcoat, sunglasses and beret), SKINNER jerks his
head toward Ego and speaks to his waiter--
I will have whatever he is having.
INSIDE SKINNER’S CAR TRUNK
Remy sits in the corner of his cage, alone and defeated. The
GUSTEAU SPRITE appears. He studies Remy, speaking quietly.
So... we’ve given up.
Why do you say that?
(looks around, shrugs)
We are in a cage. Inside a car
trunk. Awaiting a future in frozen
No, I’m the one in a cage. I’ve
given up. You... are free.
I am only as free as you imagine me
to be. As you are.
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
Gusteau smiles with affection and relief.
Ah, but you don’t, Remy...
He floats to Remy, puts his hands squarely on the rat’s
...you never did.
And with that, Gusteau... FADES AWAY. A loud THUNK as
something hits the street pavement outside.
CATHEDRAL ACROSS FROM GUSTEAU’S - DUSK
A STONE GARGOYLE has just missed the trunk of Skinner’s car
and SHATTERED on the pavement. DJANGO, clearly annoyed, calls
to GIT the musclebound lab rat, who’s perched on the one
gargoyle-less balustrade above.
No, My OTHER left!
Git grunts, moves to the next gargoyle and PUSHES--
INSIDE SKINNER’S CAR TRUNK
Remy, alert and excited now, calls out.
Dad?!! Dad, I'm in here!! I'm inside the trunk!! What the... DAD!
WHAM! --the top of the trunk suddenly CAVES IN from the
second GARGOYLE’s impact. Light streams in as EMILE appears.
EMILE hey, little brother!
Django joins Emile as he grabs the cage latch from the
outside. Straining with all their might, the three rats pop
it open. Remy jumps out, gives Django and Emile quick hugs--
I love you guys.
-then scrambles out the trunk and takes off toward GUSTEAU’S.
Where you going??
Back to the restaurant! They’ll
fail without me!
WHY DO YOU CARE??
BECAUSE I’M A COOK!!
Django and Emile saw this and they chases after him.
INSIDE KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S - SAME TIME
CHAOS. Tempers are flaring, orders are piling up and the
kitchen is dissolving under Linguini’s leadership. Holding a
pan filled with grey glop, Horst confronts Linguini.
It’s your recipe. How can you not
know your OWN RECIPE?!
I didn’t write it down, it just--
came to me!
Well make it come to you again, ja?
BECAUSE WE CAN'T SERVE THIS!!
Where’s my order!?
Can’t we serve them something
else?! Something I didn’t
This is what they’re
Make them order something
else! Tell them we’re all
We can’t be all out, we just
I have another idea; what if
we SERVERD THEM WHAT THEY
WE WILL MAKE IT. Just tell us
what you did.
I don’t know what I did!
We need to tell the customers
Then tell them-- tell them--
in frustration, Linguini runs into his office and slams the door closed.
(to Lalo, beat)
OUTSIDE BACK KITCHEN ENTRANCE - GUSTEAU’S - SAME TIME
Django and Emile rush to stop Remy as he heads toward the
Don't do it! They’ll see you! STOP!
--but Remy pushes them away long enough to get inside the
doorway, exposing himself to two COOKS. The other rats HIDE.
He’s come far too fast! Could you
do more with as little experience??
We are not talking about me! We’re
talking about what to do right n--!
Horst suddenly FREEZES-- his gaze fixed on the back entrance.
There, smack dab in the middle of the doorway, sits REMY, as
brash as a tiny gunslinger entering a saloon.
Instantly the other COOKS seize dangerous utencils and CHARGE
at Remy. But REMY DOESN’T MOVE. Suddenly, a voice SHOUTS--
DON’T TOUCH HIM!!
Miraculously, everyone STOPS, their weapons raised, their
gaze shifting to LINGUINI, who rushes in front of the group.
I know this sounds insane. Butwell,
the truth sounds insane
sometimes, but that doesn’t mean
it’s not. The truth.
The COOKS exchange confused glances.
And the truth is I have no talent
at all. But this Rat... he’s the
one behind these recipes. He’s the
cook. The real cook. Little Chef?
The COOKS watch in amazement as Remy hops onto his lowered
palm. Linguini lifts Remy up to his head to demonstrate.
He’s been hiding under my toque. He
chooses the ingredients, the spicesLinguini
picks up some spices lifting them to Remy’s nose.
The other cooks react; this strange and familiar action of
Linguini’s is suddenly stranger than ever.
--he’s been controlling my actions.
Remy gives Linguini’s hair a few tugs to demonstrate,
Linguini’s limbs move correspondingly.
He’s the reason I can cook the food
that’s exciting everyone, the
reason Ego is outside that door.
You’ve been giving me credit for
his gift. I know it’s a hard thing
to believe, but hey-- you believed
I could cook, right?
Linguini laughs. The cooks stare. He looks at them, earnest.
Look. This works. It’s crazy, but
it works. We can be the greatest
restaurant in Paris. And this rat,
this brilliant little Chef can lead
us there. Whaddya say? You with me?
For a moment no one moves. Then HORST, tears welling up in
his eyes, crosses to a grateful, moved Linguini and--
--hands him his apron and toque... EXITING silently out the
back door. Linguini watches-- stunned-- as, one by one, the
rest of the STAFF exits with him, leaving only COLETTE.
Colette locks eyes with Linguini, both anger and tears
welling up. Her hand comes up to slap him--
--but doesn’t. Her hand just trembles, and finally drops to
her side. She pushes past Linguini and out the door.
Linguini looks out at Dining room: Ego WAITS, drumming his
fingers. Soon the customers will get restless. Linguini
exchanges a sad look with Remy, shrinks into his office,
closes the door behind him.
PARIS STREETS - MOVING WITH COLETTE - NIGHT
COLETTE speeds her motorcycle recklessly through the streets,
crying. A car horn BLASTS. She STARTLES, hits the brakes and
skids TO A STOP, nearly running the red light.
She exhales, her heart racing at the close call. She looks
up. A familiar COOKBOOK beckons from the display window of a
used book store: Gusteau’s “ANYONE CAN COOK”.
Colette stares at it, feeling a pang of emotion.
CLOSE ON THE COOKBOOK.
CLOSE ON COLETTE. Behind her the traffic light TURNS green.
WIDE SHOT: The traffic on either side of her begins to go.
Colette sits atop her motorcycle-- motionless.
RESUME GUSTEAU’S KITCHEN
Alone in the empty kitchen, Remy faces the dining room door,
feeling Ego on the other side, waiting. Remy slowly turns
away... then realizes that DJANGO is also there.
(he goes to Django)
Dad, I-- I don’t know what to say.
I was wrong about your friend. And
Dad, I don’t want you to think I’m
choosing this over family. I can’t
choose between two halves of myselfDJANGO
I’m not talking about cooking. I’m
talking about guts. This really
means that much to you?
Almost apologetically, Remy NODS. Django sighs, then lets out
a loud whistle. The RAT CLAN emerges from the shadows,
quickly surrounding them.
We’re not cooks, but we are family.
You tell us what to do and we’ll
get it done.
A DOOR CREAK turns the rats attention to the back door where--
--THE HEALTH INSPECTOR has just entered. His eyes bug at the
surreal sight: the KITCHEN IS FILLED WITH RATS. Slowly, he
backs toward the EXIT... and BOLTS!
STOP THAT HEALTH INSPECTOR!
Immediately DJANGO leads half the RAT CLAN after the
inspector, yelling as he exits out the door.
DELTA TEAM FOLLOW ME! THE REST OF
YOU STAY AND HELP REMY!
ALLEY BEHIND GUSTEAU’S - INSIDE INSPECTOR’S CAR
The inspector JAMS his keys into the ignition and turns. The
ENGINE won’t turn over. He glances at the rear view mirror
and sees: a ground-level STAMPEDE OF RATS moving out from the
kitchen TOWARD HIM.
The RATS engulf the car, covering it like a blanket. The
ENGINE comes to life. Tires SQUEAL, smoking as the car roars
from the alley in reverse and pulls a 180 into the street,
the rats covering it like a grey moss--
KITCHEN - SAME TIME
The dishwasher opens with a WHOOSH of steam: DOZENS OF RATS
EMERGE, their fur clean and fluffy. They disperse with Swat
Team precision as Remy barks orders.
TEAM THREE: WILL BE HANDLING DISH,
TEAM FOUR: ROASTED ITEMS, TEAM
FIVE: GRILL, TEAM SIX: SAUCES! GET
TO YOUR STATIONS! LET’S GO GO GO!
Emerges from his office and is astonished by the sight. Remy
and the rats see this is suddenly PAUSE. Linguini walks up to
Remy, suddenly filled with purpose.
We need someone to wait tables.
Remy NODS. CUT TO:
Linguini turns his backpack upside down. A pair of ROLLER
BLADES hit his desk with a CLUNK.
Linguini, wearing the blades and a WAITERS OUTFIT, explodes
through the double doors and sweeps into the dining room,
distributing MENUS to the diners with economical precision,
followed miraculously by DRINKS, BREAD, WATER.
He arrives at Skinner’s table to refill his water.
No, I’m sorry for any delay, but
we’re a little short tonight.
Skinner glances at EGO, who is scowling as he scribbles in a
note pad. A big smile stretches across Skinner’s face.
Please. Take all the time you need.
The kitchen is going like blazes; RATS are sauteing, spicing,
grilling, cooking up a storm. Remy, nearly overwhelmed with
the scale of production, is miraculously handling it.
Stationed at the pass, EMILE wipes the sauce of the edges of
the plates with a cloth, the last crucial bit of quality
control. Tempted by the sauce, he tries to sneak a lick.
DINING AREA - SAME TIME
Ego looks impatiently at his watch, scribbles in his notepad.
Then his eyes fall to the soup. He pulls the bowl to him,
dips a spoon in, TASTING IT. Not bad...
The RATS are functioning like a well-oiled machine; the
perfectly prepared meals hit the pass as quickly as Linguini
can grab them. The back door pushes open to REVEAL:
COLETTE-- staggered by the bizarre spectacle. Looking like
she may vomit, she wheels back to the exit, when Linguini
rushes in, throwing his arms around her.
Colette! You came back. Colette, I--
DON’T say a word. If I think about
it I might change my mind. Just
tell me what the rat wants to cook.
Remy flips through Gusteau’s recipe box, finds a certain card
and pulls it, showing it to Colette. She frowns.
Ratatouille? It’s a peasant dish.
Are you sure you want to serve this
Remy NODS. Colette shrugs and starts to prepare the dish.
A TIRE SCREECH is followed by a LOUD CRASH outside. COLETTE
looks up as the back door bangs open: the HEALTH INSPECTOR,
bound and gagged, floats across the floor on a cushion of
RATS, who quickly dump him in the food safe.
Colette shrugs, going with the strange night, and goes to add
the first spice to the ratatouille, but is blocked by a
WOODEN SPOON. She looks up: sees it’s held by Remy.
What. I’m making the ratatouille...
He looks at the her ingredients and makes a face.
Well, how would you prepare it?
Remy PAUSES, considering this.
KITCHEN / DINING AREA
INTERCUT: (1) Remy REIMAGINING the ratatouille; re-inventing
it step by step and demonstrating what he wants to Colette,
who expertly follows through-- WITH (2) LINGUINI skating
around the dining room, a ONE-MAN WAIT STAFF.
MUSIC CRESCENDOS as LINGUINI delivers the meal to EGO’S
TABLE. Linguini then serves the identical meal to Skinner,
who’s appalled and amused to find that Ego has been served--
Ratatouille? They must be joking...
He looks over at Ego, who seems equally unimpressed.
He pokes a fork into the vegetables, examines them for a
moment, then brings the food to his lips--
Linguini watches, withering.
As Ego’s lips close around the ratatouille, the sound, the
restaurant around him is WHISKED AWAY--
FLASHBACK: FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE - A LIFETIME AGO
We are inside a cozy cottage on a golden summer day. The
front door is open, a newly crashed BICYCLE lays on the
ground outside. Next to it stands a five year old ANTON EGO
with a skinned knee, valiantly holding back tears.
His young mother turns from her cooking, and gives him a
sympathetic smile. Like all mothers, she knows what to do.
Young EGO, already feeling better, is at a table. His mother
touches his cheek and sets a freshly made bowl of ratatouille
before him, warm and inviting. The boy takes a spoonful into
--AND THE PRESENT RUSHES BACK--
Ego is frozen. Astounded. His PEN slips from his hand. It
CLATTERS to the floor, breaking the spell.
Ego blinks. His eyes fall to his empty fork, which he holds
suspended near his mouth. Slowly a long-lost feeling blooms
inside him. He smiles. And has another forkful.
Skinner has seen this. He looks at his ratatouille and tastes
it. He’s stunned; loving and hating it all at once--
(as he eats)
No... no, it can’t be...
Skinner BURSTS through the double doors.
Who cooked the ratatouille?! I
demand to know!
A kitchen full of RATS all stop and LOOK UP AT HIM. CUT TO--
INSIDE FOOD SAFE
Skinner, bound and gagged, is tossed roughly into the corner,
where he lands next to the equally bound and gagged HEALTH
INSPECTOR. They yell muffled protests as the door slams shut.
A long FINGER dabs the last smear of remaining sauce from the
plate of ratatouille. We follow it to Ego’s smiling lips. He
kisses the sauce off his finger tip and turns to Linguini.
I can’t remember the last time I
asked a waiter to give my
compliments to the Chef. And now I
find myself in the extraordinary
position of having my waiter be the
I’m just your waiter tonight.
Then who do I thank for the meal?
Linguini stares for a moment, wondering how to respond.
Excuse me a minute.
Linguini skates to the kitchen doors, where Colette has been
watching from a distance. Ego squints; Linguini and Colette
are visible through the window panels in a heated discussion.
Linguini returns to Ego’s table, this time with Colette.
Ah, you must be the Ch--
If you wish to meet the Chef you
will have to wait until all the
other customers have gone.
Taken aback by the unprecedented demand, Ego acquiesces.
So be it.
Colette and Linguini exchange a look. DISSOLVE TO:
LATER. The restaurant has cleared, save for Ego, who waits
with grim patience. Linguini and Colette emerge from the
kitchen and silently cross to Ego’s table, Linguini holding a
toque upright on the flat of and outstretched hand.
Ego stares, his curiosity piqued by this strange sight.
Linguini takes a breath and lifts up the toque, revealing
REMY sitting up on the palm of his hand.
At first, Ego thinks it’s a joke,
but as Linguini explains, Ego’s
A SERIES OF SHOTS: Inside the rat-filled kitchen, Linguini
and Remy demonstrate their unique working style to Ego, first
together, then with Remy alone. Colette withers as Ego STARES
at this in grim deadpan.
He doesn’t react beyond asking an
Linguini and Colette are now seated at a table opposite Ego.
Remy sits on the table facing Ego, who occasionally glances
down at him. Finally Ego gets up, and bows slightly.
And when the story is done, Ego
stands, thanks us for the meal--
Thank you for the meal.
REMY (V.O., CONT’)
--and leaves without another word.
EGO’S OFFICE - NIGHT
In a SERIES OF SHOTS Ego is seen pacing, brooding, staring
out one of the enormous picture windows flanking his portrait
into the night, visibly unsettled...
The following day his review
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 judgement. We thrive
on negative criticism, which is fun
to write and to read.
-until finally, he sits down at his desk and begins to write.
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.
MONTAGE: AFTER CLOSING - NIGHT (TO DAWN)
Linguini and Colette emerge from Gusteau’s kitchen into the
brisk night air, Remy with them, walking upright. No one
knows what to think. Colette and Linguini HUG anyway.
The world is often unkind to new
talent, new creations. The new
In the alley behind the kitchen, the strange human/rat
alliance amicably part ways and head to their respective
homes above and below the streets of Paris. Only Remy stays
behind, electing to take in the night and think.
Last night I experienced something
new, an extraordinary meal from an
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.
EGO’S V.O. CONTINUES as we DISSOLVE between LINGUINI,
COLETTE, EMILE and DJANGO, and see that no one, rat or humanis
able to sleep this night.
EGO (V.O., CONT’D)
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
MONTAGE CONCLUDES with REMY staring at the Eiffel Tower as
the sky creeps into dawn.
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
KITCHEN - GUSTEAU’S - MORNING
V.O. CONTINUES as a Colette & Linguini read EGO’S REVIEW--
I will be returning to Gusteau’s
soon, hungry for more.
Colette and Linguini HUG. Gathered with them in Gusteau’s
kitchen, Remy & the rat clan CHEER.
It was a great night. The happiest
of my life. But the only thing
predictable about life is its--
SHOT: A bored worker for the MINISTRY OF HEALTH pastes
“CLOSED” notices over the front door of GUSTEAU’S.
REMY (V.O., CONT)
--unpredictability. We had to let
Skinner and the health inspector
loose, and of course they squealed.
The food didn’t matter. Once it got
out there were rats in the kitchen,
the restaurant was closed and Ego
lost his job and his credibility.
But don’t feel too bad for him...
A BISTRO - DAY - THE PRESENT
In a tiny, warmly lit room, a GROUP OF RATS (including DJANGO
& EMILE) are seated around a basket, which has been
overturned and covered with a napkin to function as a table,
listening as REMY finishes his story.
...he’s doing very well as a small
business investor. He seems very
Seated next to Remy, a teenage rat frowns, skeptical.
How do you know?
Remy smiles and points through the small window into the main
dining room. There ANTON EGO, whose face now has color and a
few new pounds, dines happily at a prime table.
A small BELL rings. Remy glances down into the kitchen.
Colette is looking up at him, tapping her wristwatch.
(to other rats)
Gotta go. Dinner rush.
He takes off, jumping into a counter-weighted BASKET made
especially for him. He’s quickly dropped into the kitchen.
BISTRO KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
The BASKET with Remy drops to the counter and Remy hops off.
Colette sets down a plate of Remy’s now-famous Ratatouille,
leaving the finish to Remy.
You know how he likes it.
Remy nods and quickly, expertly finishes the presentation. WE
FOLLOW LINGUINI, now the Maitre ‘d, as he takes the plate
into the dining room and delivers it to Ego.
Can I interest you in a dessert this evening?
Don’t you always?
Which one would you like?
Ego grins, turns toward the window in the kitchen door where Remy is watching, and calls out--
Remy signals Ego in the affirmative and goes off to create something delicious. CAMERA pulls away from this happy scene to reveal --a BISTRO jammed with open-minded foodies; a hip, cultured mixture of bohemians of all ages... all there to enjoy good food and life. CAMERA CONTINUES out the window and we are-- OUTSIDE THE BISTRO - PARIS - DUSK. A long line of customers has formed outside, waiting to get in. An elegant METAL SIGN comes into view, featuring a rat wearing a CHEF’S TOQUE, along with the bistro’s name--