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偷了一小段过来，具体的视频麻烦了点，我去找找
[from trailer]
[narrating a freeze-frame of himself being chased in a gourmet Parisian resturant]
Remy: This is me. I think it's apparent that I need to rethink my life a little bit. I can't help myself. I... I like good food, ok? And... good food is... hard for a rat to find!
Django: It wouldn't be so hard to find if you weren't so picky!
Remy: I don't wanna eat garbage, dad!
[from trailer]
Remy: [observing what Emile is eating] What is that?
Emile: [pause] I don't really know.
Remy: You dunno... and you're eating it?
Emile: You know, once you muscle your way past the gag reflex, all kinds of possibilities open up.
Remy: This is what I'm talking about.
Linguini: You're the one who was getting fancy with the spices! What did you throw in there? Oregano? No? What, r - uh, rosemary? That's a spice, isn't it? Rosemary?
Colette: Horst has done time.
Linguini: For what?
Colette: We don't know. He changes the story every time you ask.
Horst: I defrauded a large corporation.
Horst: I robbed the second-largest bank in France using only a ball-point pen.
Horst: I created a hole in the ozone layer over Avignon.
Horst: I killed a man... with this thumb.
Linguini: I can't cook, can I?
[Remy shakes his head]
Linguini: But you - he, he - you can, right?
[Remy shrugs]
Linguini: Come on, don't be so modest. You're a rat, for Pete's sake.
Skinner: [notices that Linguini is holding a ladle] Move it, garbage boy! You are COOKING? HOW DARE YOU COOK in my kitchen! 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 him in the duck press to squeeze the fat out of his head!
Skinner: Welcome to Hell.
Mustafa: Someone is asking what is new!
Horst: New?
Mustafa: Yes! What do I tell them?
Horst: What did you tell them?
Mustafa: I told them I would ask!
Skinner: What are you blathering about?
Horst: Customers are asking for what is new!
Mustafa: What should I tell them?
Skinner: What did you tell them?
Mustafa: I TOLD THEM I WOULD ASK!
Skinner: This is simple. Just pull out an old Gusteau recipe, something we haven't made in a while...
Mustafa: They know about the old stuff. They like Linguini's soup.
Skinner: They are asking for food from LINGUINI?
Colette: You waste energy and time! You think cooking is a cute job, eh? Like mommy in the kitchen? Well, mommy never had to face the dinner rush while orders come flooding in, and every dish is different and not that simple, it has a different cooking time, and must arrive at the customer's table at the same time. Every second counts and you CANNOT be MOMMIED!
Colette: [Linguini is making a mess at the kitchen] What is this? Keep... your... station clear! If meal orders come in, what will happen? Messy stations slow things down, food doesn't go, orders pile up, disaster! I will make this easier to remember: keep you station clean... or I WILL KILL YOU!
Remy: We're thieves, and what we're stealing is, let's be honest, garbage.
Django: It's not stealing if no one wants it.
Remy: If no one want's it, then why are we stealing it?
Linguini: [in dream sequence] Do you know what you would like this evening, sir?
Anton Ego: Yes, I'd like your heart roasted on a spit. Heh heh heh heh. Ha ha ha!
Mustafa: [taking Ego's order] Do you know what you'd like this evening, sir?
Anton Ego: 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. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that?
Mustafa: With what, sir?
Anton Ego: Perspective. Fresh out, I take it?
Mustafa: I am, uh...
Anton Ego: 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.
Mustafa: Uhm... Your meal, sir?
[Stands up angrily in Mustafa's face]
Anton Ego: Tell your chef Linguini to cook ANYTHING he dares to serve me. Tell him to hit me, with his best shot.
Remy: This is terrible! He's ruining the soup! And no one's noticing? It's *your* restaurant, do something!
Gusteau: What can *I* do? I am a figment of your imagination.
Remy: But he's *ruining* the *soup*!
Remy: Hey, I brought you something to...
[sees Emile eating garbage]
Remy: AH! NO, NO, NO, NO! SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW!
[Emile obeys]
Remy: I have got to teach you about food. Close your eyes.
[Emile obeys; Remy hands out piece of cheese]
Remy: Now take a bite of this...
[Emile snarfs the cheese]
Remy: No, no, no! Don't just hork it down!
Emile: Too late.
Linguini: Can I interest you in a dessert this evening?
Anton Ego: Don't you always?
Linguini: Which one would you like?
Anton Ego: Suprise me!
Linguini: Thank you, by the way, for all the advice about cooking.
Colette: Thank you, too.
Linguini: For - for what?
Colette: For taking it!
Linguini: What should I do now?
Skinner: Kill it!
Linguini: Now?
Skinner: No, not in the kitchen! Are you mad?
[Skinner has gotten Linguini drunk in the hopes of getting him to admit that he has a rat under his hat]
Linguini: Hey... Why do they call it that?
Skinner: What?
Linguini: Ratatouille. 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 "patootie." Rat-patootie, which does not sound delicious.
Linguini: Hey, they like the soup!
[knocks Remy in river]
Linguini: AH!
[rescues Remy, returns soaking wet]
Linguini: They like the soup.
Linguini: How could you? I thought you were my friend! I trusted you! Get out, and don't come back, or I'll treat you the way restaurants are supposed to treat pests!
Skinner: Toasting your success, eh, Linguini? Good for you.
Linguini: Oh, I just took it to be polite. I don't really drink, you know.
Skinner: Of course you don't. I wouldn't either if I was drinking that. But you would have to be an idiot of elephantine proportions not to appreciate this '61 Ch鈚eau Latour, and you, Monsieur Linguini, are no idiot. Let us toast your non-idiocy!
Anton Ego: You're a bit slow for someone in the fast lane.
Linguini: And... you're thin for someone who likes food!
[Crowd gasps]
Anton Ego: I don't LIKE food, I LOVE it. If I don't LOVE it, I don't SWALLOW.
Linguini: Listen, I just want you to know how honored I am to be studying under such a -...
Colette: [pins Linguini's sleeve with a knife] No, you listen! I just want you to know exactly who you are dealing with! How many women do you see in this kitchen?
Linguini: Well, I uh -...
Colette: [pins Linguini's sleeve with another knife] Only me. Why do you think that is? Because high cuisine is an antiquated hierarchy built upon rules by stupid, old men. Rules designed to make it impossible for women to enter this world, but still I'm here. How did this happen?
Linguini: Well because you, because you -...
Colette: [pins Linguini's sleeve with a third knife] Because I am the toughest cook in this kitchen! I have worked too hard for too long to get here, and I am not going to jeopardize it for some garbage boy who got lucky! Got it?
Linguini: When I added that extra ingredient instead of following the recipe like you said, that wasn't me... either.
Colette: What do you mean?
Linguini: 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 'til the ends of the Earth because I love youuuuuur advice. But...
Remy: [whispering, referring to Linguini] Don't do it...
Linguini: [hesitantly] I have a secret. It's sort of disturbing. I have a ra... I have a raaaaa...
Colette: You have a rash?
Linguini: No no no. I have this-this tiny, uh, little... little...
[quickly]
Linguini: a tiny chef who tells me what to do.
Larousse: Oh, look who it is! Alfredo Linguini! His mother's an old flame of Gusteau's.
Skinner: Ah, yes. How is Renata?
Linguini: She's good... well, not good, she's been better. She's, uh... she's -...
Horst: She died.
Skinner: [carelessly] Oh, I'm sorry
Linguini: Oh, no, don't be. She believed in Heaven, so she's covered... after-life speaking.
[gives Skinner letter]
Skinner: What is this?
Linguini: It's from my mother. She thought it would help... me get a job... here.
[Skinner has made Linguini drunk]
Skinner: So this is your first time cooking?
Linguini: My fifth time, actually. I think... Monday was my first time
Anton Ego: In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is 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. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.
Linguini: So this is it. It's not much but it's, y'know... not much.
[referring to his home]
Gusteau: Food always comes to those who love to cook.
Linguini: Bonjour, ma ch閞ie. Join us. We were just talking about my inspiration.
Colette: Yes, he calls it his tiny chef.
Linguini: Not that, dearest, I meant you.
Django: 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.
[from trailer]
Gusteau: You know what I say. Anyone can cook.
Remy: Yeah, anyone can cook. That doesn't mean anyone should.
Remy: [cooking a mushroom over the chimney] The key is to keep turning it to get the smoky flavor niiice and even.
[from trailer]
[narrating a freeze-frame of himself being chased in a gourmet Parisian resturant]
Remy: This is me. I think it's apparent that I need to rethink my life a little bit. I can't help myself. I... I like good food, ok? And... good food is... hard for a rat to find!
Django: It wouldn't be so hard to find if you weren't so picky!
Remy: I don't wanna eat garbage, dad!
[from trailer]
Remy: [observing what Emile is eating] What is that?
Emile: [pause] I don't really know.
Remy: You dunno... and you're eating it?
Emile: You know, once you muscle your way past the gag reflex, all kinds of possibilities open up.
Remy: This is what I'm talking about.
Linguini: You're the one who was getting fancy with the spices! What did you throw in there? Oregano? No? What, r - uh, rosemary? That's a spice, isn't it? Rosemary?
Colette: Horst has done time.
Linguini: For what?
Colette: We don't know. He changes the story every time you ask.
Horst: I defrauded a large corporation.
Horst: I robbed the second-largest bank in France using only a ball-point pen.
Horst: I created a hole in the ozone layer over Avignon.
Horst: I killed a man... with this thumb.
Linguini: I can't cook, can I?
[Remy shakes his head]
Linguini: But you - he, he - you can, right?
[Remy shrugs]
Linguini: Come on, don't be so modest. You're a rat, for Pete's sake.
Skinner: [notices that Linguini is holding a ladle] Move it, garbage boy! You are COOKING? HOW DARE YOU COOK in my kitchen! 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 him in the duck press to squeeze the fat out of his head!
Skinner: Welcome to Hell.
Mustafa: Someone is asking what is new!
Horst: New?
Mustafa: Yes! What do I tell them?
Horst: What did you tell them?
Mustafa: I told them I would ask!
Skinner: What are you blathering about?
Horst: Customers are asking for what is new!
Mustafa: What should I tell them?
Skinner: What did you tell them?
Mustafa: I TOLD THEM I WOULD ASK!
Skinner: This is simple. Just pull out an old Gusteau recipe, something we haven't made in a while...
Mustafa: They know about the old stuff. They like Linguini's soup.
Skinner: They are asking for food from LINGUINI?
Colette: You waste energy and time! You think cooking is a cute job, eh? Like mommy in the kitchen? Well, mommy never had to face the dinner rush while orders come flooding in, and every dish is different and not that simple, it has a different cooking time, and must arrive at the customer's table at the same time. Every second counts and you CANNOT be MOMMIED!
Colette: [Linguini is making a mess at the kitchen] What is this? Keep... your... station clear! If meal orders come in, what will happen? Messy stations slow things down, food doesn't go, orders pile up, disaster! I will make this easier to remember: keep you station clean... or I WILL KILL YOU!
Remy: We're thieves, and what we're stealing is, let's be honest, garbage.
Django: It's not stealing if no one wants it.
Remy: If no one want's it, then why are we stealing it?
Linguini: [in dream sequence] Do you know what you would like this evening, sir?
Anton Ego: Yes, I'd like your heart roasted on a spit. Heh heh heh heh. Ha ha ha!
Mustafa: [taking Ego's order] Do you know what you'd like this evening, sir?
Anton Ego: 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. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that?
Mustafa: With what, sir?
Anton Ego: Perspective. Fresh out, I take it?
Mustafa: I am, uh...
Anton Ego: 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.
Mustafa: Uhm... Your meal, sir?
[Stands up angrily in Mustafa's face]
Anton Ego: Tell your chef Linguini to cook ANYTHING he dares to serve me. Tell him to hit me, with his best shot.
Remy: This is terrible! He's ruining the soup! And no one's noticing? It's *your* restaurant, do something!
Gusteau: What can *I* do? I am a figment of your imagination.
Remy: But he's *ruining* the *soup*!
Remy: Hey, I brought you something to...
[sees Emile eating garbage]
Remy: AH! NO, NO, NO, NO! SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW!
[Emile obeys]
Remy: I have got to teach you about food. Close your eyes.
[Emile obeys; Remy hands out piece of cheese]
Remy: Now take a bite of this...
[Emile snarfs the cheese]
Remy: No, no, no! Don't just hork it down!
Emile: Too late.
Linguini: Can I interest you in a dessert this evening?
Anton Ego: Don't you always?
Linguini: Which one would you like?
Anton Ego: Suprise me!
Linguini: Thank you, by the way, for all the advice about cooking.
Colette: Thank you, too.
Linguini: For - for what?
Colette: For taking it!
Linguini: What should I do now?
Skinner: Kill it!
Linguini: Now?
Skinner: No, not in the kitchen! Are you mad?
[Skinner has gotten Linguini drunk in the hopes of getting him to admit that he has a rat under his hat]
Linguini: Hey... Why do they call it that?
Skinner: What?
Linguini: Ratatouille. 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 "patootie." Rat-patootie, which does not sound delicious.
Linguini: Hey, they like the soup!
[knocks Remy in river]
Linguini: AH!
[rescues Remy, returns soaking wet]
Linguini: They like the soup.
Linguini: How could you? I thought you were my friend! I trusted you! Get out, and don't come back, or I'll treat you the way restaurants are supposed to treat pests!
Skinner: Toasting your success, eh, Linguini? Good for you.
Linguini: Oh, I just took it to be polite. I don't really drink, you know.
Skinner: Of course you don't. I wouldn't either if I was drinking that. But you would have to be an idiot of elephantine proportions not to appreciate this '61 Ch鈚eau Latour, and you, Monsieur Linguini, are no idiot. Let us toast your non-idiocy!
Anton Ego: You're a bit slow for someone in the fast lane.
Linguini: And... you're thin for someone who likes food!
[Crowd gasps]
Anton Ego: I don't LIKE food, I LOVE it. If I don't LOVE it, I don't SWALLOW.
Linguini: Listen, I just want you to know how honored I am to be studying under such a -...
Colette: [pins Linguini's sleeve with a knife] No, you listen! I just want you to know exactly who you are dealing with! How many women do you see in this kitchen?
Linguini: Well, I uh -...
Colette: [pins Linguini's sleeve with another knife] Only me. Why do you think that is? Because high cuisine is an antiquated hierarchy built upon rules by stupid, old men. Rules designed to make it impossible for women to enter this world, but still I'm here. How did this happen?
Linguini: Well because you, because you -...
Colette: [pins Linguini's sleeve with a third knife] Because I am the toughest cook in this kitchen! I have worked too hard for too long to get here, and I am not going to jeopardize it for some garbage boy who got lucky! Got it?
Linguini: When I added that extra ingredient instead of following the recipe like you said, that wasn't me... either.
Colette: What do you mean?
Linguini: 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 'til the ends of the Earth because I love youuuuuur advice. But...
Remy: [whispering, referring to Linguini] Don't do it...
Linguini: [hesitantly] I have a secret. It's sort of disturbing. I have a ra... I have a raaaaa...
Colette: You have a rash?
Linguini: No no no. I have this-this tiny, uh, little... little...
[quickly]
Linguini: a tiny chef who tells me what to do.
Larousse: Oh, look who it is! Alfredo Linguini! His mother's an old flame of Gusteau's.
Skinner: Ah, yes. How is Renata?
Linguini: She's good... well, not good, she's been better. She's, uh... she's -...
Horst: She died.
Skinner: [carelessly] Oh, I'm sorry
Linguini: Oh, no, don't be. She believed in Heaven, so she's covered... after-life speaking.
[gives Skinner letter]
Skinner: What is this?
Linguini: It's from my mother. She thought it would help... me get a job... here.
[Skinner has made Linguini drunk]
Skinner: So this is your first time cooking?
Linguini: My fifth time, actually. I think... Monday was my first time
Anton Ego: In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is 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. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.
Linguini: So this is it. It's not much but it's, y'know... not much.
[referring to his home]
Gusteau: Food always comes to those who love to cook.
Linguini: Bonjour, ma ch閞ie. Join us. We were just talking about my inspiration.
Colette: Yes, he calls it his tiny chef.
Linguini: Not that, dearest, I meant you.
Django: 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.
[from trailer]
Gusteau: You know what I say. Anyone can cook.
Remy: Yeah, anyone can cook. That doesn't mean anyone should.
Remy: [cooking a mushroom over the chimney] The key is to keep turning it to get the smoky flavor niiice and even.
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