Soup Rat
by Mable Peach ‘23
In the age of Disney+, one must reflect on the Pixar legacy left by films like A Bug’s Life, The Incredibles, and Toy Story. Often unappreciated and overlooked, though, is the cinematic classic Soup Rat, a charming tale of one gifted rat and his experiences in the third-floor kitchen of Wellesley College’s Tower Court East dorm. Through its portrayal of the French rat diaspora in Wellesley, Massachusetts, the film’s nuanced commentary strikes at the core of contemporary dialogues on rat rights and the democratization of culinary practices. Soup Rat’s complex reflections on social, cultural, and economic trends can be compared to a thick cream stew; they are both robust and rich, yet their full-bodied, complex flavor profiles require one to two days to fully form. This period of contemplation, funnily the same amount of time it took the directors to film the movie, involves hours of deep introspection and critical consideration. Much like an ascetic praying whilst in a state of extreme hunger, a viewer enters a rapturous spell of Soup Rat-induced reflection when mulling over the film’s unparalleled brilliance.
Soup Rat brings a person into the heart of Wellesley, pushes them down six flights of Tower Court stairs, and cooks up both a heartwarming tail and a metaphorical bowl of Annie’s Mac & Cheese. The artful weaving in of visually rich Tik-Toks and literal non-stop musical accompaniment transforms the world behind the camera into a bubonic plague-induced fever dream. Uma Thurman’s bold presence and predilection for leaving her dishes in the Tower East sink provides Soup Rat with a character that is equally, if not more, complex as the flavor profile of Grand Central Station ice cream. Rat paws pitter-patter against one’s heart as Romy the rat and Fettuccine Boy form a partnership that tests the bounds of animal ownership laws and PETA standards. Romy’s bulging eyes bore into viewers’ souls, bringing them to question the implicit biases they hold about cross-cultural exchange between humans and rats.
Without a doubt, Soup Rat surpasses the cinematic triumphs of Wes Anderson, Alfred Hitchcock, and Martin Scorcese. Never has such an incisive view of a rat colony and 3-Michelin Star restaurant living under one dorm roof been produced. The film transcends time and taxonomy, deftly blurring the lines between man and rat while simultaneously cooking up a collection of artfully shot clips. Viewers are quite literally drop-kicked in the heart while watching the film―the imprints of low-top Doc Martens will stay with them throughout their lives.
Soup Rat touches upon commentary that no one, literally not a singular person, knew they needed until watching the film. The poignance and relevance of the film must be recognized in the age of socially conscious Tik-Tokers and politically minded young adults. Characters like Thumb Killer and Goop Stew will become household names, and generations of children will flock to Wellesley Books to purchase stuffed Romy and Rat Dad figurines. Young children deserve a role model like Romy to inspire them to respect rat populations and appreciate rats’ roles in the culinary history of Wellesley, Massachusetts. On a global scale, Soup Rat asks viewers to ask not what rats can do for you, but what you can do for rats. If you don’t stand for rats, what do you stand for?
Mable Peach ‘23 (mp3) enjoys writing satirical reviews of the arts. From the December 2019 issue.