Undeniable Proof That Remy From Ratatouille is a Disney Princess

Welcome, readers. Knowing that you chose to read this article, I feel a special connection to you, already, for we are bonded by a shared belief—one so strong that it weaves our yarns of existence together and forges friendships out of pure credence: Princess Remy™. Some may call us crazy for decreeing that the Ratatouille rat is among Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, but to that we respond as only Brown students can (with a prepared, itemized list to prove our point).

Firstly, Remy is restaurant royalty. Our rodent pal becomes a connoisseur of Parisian cooking, hereby considered “royalty” among restaurateurs, diners, and critics alike. Furthermore, Linguine (man, I wish I was named after a pasta) was part of a royal bloodline as Gusteau’s son, and Remy effectively married in (yes, I’m implying that Linguine is a prince and he married his pet rat chef, get with it). Boom, princess.

His role model dies! A Disney princess classic—it really warms the heart. Anna and Elsa lost their parents, and Remy lost his favorite chef mentor, Gusteau (same emotional impact, of course). That death is… like… bad for him? But it’s really good for his resultant character arc. Again, very classic Disney princess material.

Remy has big eyes and a soft smile. Everyone knows that beautiful princesses must always have big eyes and a soft smile. Disney has animated them that way for all of time, and Remy is no exception. 

Who doesn’t love a heroic act from a princess? Surveys at Brown say that most students—you know what, professors, too—equate Remy saving his rat colony to Mulan saving China. The statistics don’t lie.

He lives an adventurous double life, scurrying from out of the shadows and into the kitchen. With that in mind, Remy even has a proper Cinderella moment, turning from sewer rat to a dazzling top chef. He’s too good for the glass slippers, though (they don’t fit his paws).

Remy sings—now, this one’s a loose requirement for Disney princesses—but his music is his food. I’m thinking spiritually, you know? Muah. *Chef’s kiss.* 

He’s not like the other girls. He doesn’t fit in. He’s… special. Consider Belle in her village. The townspeople literally shamed that girl for reading. For owning books! And why was Remy cast aside in his colony? For owning spices! There will always be those that laugh in the face of our dreams, but Brown University supports visionaries. Belle, feel free to hit up the SciLi. You’re an alumna, after all. Remy, the Ratty awaits. It was even named for you. <3

He loves cheese (all princesses love cheese, no further comment.)

Remy has a man that needs saving. Now, to give some credit where credit is due, I’ll note that Disney princesses have come a long way over the last few decades! They don’t just get saved—they can do the saving. You know I’m talking about my girl Mulan, again. Both Linguine and Shang survived their equally harrowing personal journeys (making ratatouille and fighting a war for all of China) through the actions of their princesses. The parallels are ever-present, if only we open our eyes. #princessremysaveslinguine

As any princess must, Remy overcomes a villain who doesn’t believe he can achieve his goals (the truest evil). He uses his magical talent—not connection to the ocean like Moana, talking to animals like Snow White, or skillful archery like Merida, but making a French vegetable dish—to tell the haters off. That’s equivalent to saving the day. We love a feminist icon.

Gorgeous, windswept hair (fur).

Stares off at a nearby castle (the Eiffel Tower).

Wears a crown (rat-sized chef’s hats are the new tiaras).

Literally owned by Disney (as of their 2006 acquisition of Pixar).

He has an animal sidekick! This is a requirement for all Disney princesses. Ariel has Flounder the fish, Jasmine has Rajah the tiger, and Remy has… other rats. Not to call his best friends his sidekicks; I’d never dare intend to reduce their storylines. But yeah… they’re sidekicks. And they’re rats. Requirement fulfilled.

Let’s address the elephant in the room: Remy’s a rat. To that I reply, do you have no decency? To exclude Remy from such a collective is to spit in the face of all that these princesses represent. Are we not all allowed to embrace our inner princess? To sprinkle love and pixie dust and oregano over the world? Are we not all encouraged to dream? I humbly ask you to reflect and consider, is there any greater dreamer than Remy from the hit 2007 Disney-Pixar film Ratatouille? No, my dear confidant. There is not. Plus, Ariel’s practically a fish! Rat-deniers can see themselves out. And to those who say, “Remy’s a male rat, so he’s a prince at best,” this is Women’s History Month. He’s a princess. I will hear no more on this matter.

At the end of the day, it’s shower thoughts like these that become stages for conversations of vast importance and create space for meaningful dialogues. If “anyone can cook,” then anyone can be a princess. Just kidding, not everyone can; Remy simply is one. (Shrek is, too, but that’s an article for another time.)