Review: 'Tale Of Despereaux' Fun, Heartfelt

'The Tale Of Despereaux"(G)(out of four)

The similarities between "Ratatouille" and "The Tale of Despereaux" are unmistakable -- and promising: Both involve vermin struggling to exist in foreign worlds, forced to abandon their families if they are ever to find themselves. More than that, both movies are beautiful in their visions, complex in their emotions and willing to consider places of the soul that are far darker than what's seen in most sanitized family films.

As an adult, what lingers most after taking in this rip-roaring animated adventure is the way it advocates a most typical theme: Question authority, and embrace those who are different than you. Regardless of what your elders may tell you or what tradition may dictate, this movie says, each person deserves the benefit of the doubt. Hence the unlikely friendship develops between Despereaux (voiced by Matthew Broderick) and Roscuro (Dustin Hoffman), a big-eared mouse and a mangy rat.

We know from the outset that this won't be your standard animated escape. The film's opening segments are not about Despereaux at all, but about Roscuro, a rat that has befriended humans on an ocean barge and learned to love the sunrise out at sea. He's eagerly awaiting the boat's landfall in a magical kingdom. But once there, he makes a big mistake that leads to the death of a princess, and the outrage of the King. Aghast at his loss, the crown banishes all rats to the netherworlds, condemning the species to a life lived underground.

As we plunge down the sewers, we learn that there are two distinct classes even within this sewer universe: the shadowy realm of the rats down below, and the picture-perfect lair of the mice up above.

It's here where we meet Despereaux who, much like Roscuro, is finding it difficult to fit in. His teachers at school instruct him to be afraid of the world – afraid of humans, of sticking out from the crowd, of the ultimate punishment: banishment to the rat world (from which no mouse has ever returned).

As we alternate between Despereaux and Roscuro, we see the ways in which these separate societies function through the controlling of minds. Roscuro's leaders use food rationing to control the masses, only allowing the rat population to eat when they say so; they're controlling behavior through rationing.

Despereaux's world, meanwhile, is dictated by fear and societal pressure. His parents are so worried about being accepted, so worried about getting into trouble, so worried about upsetting the humans outside that they happily stay indoors at all times.

It's inevitable that Despereaux will explore a bit too much of this world, get banished by his elders and have to fend for himself in the world of the rats. It's predictable, that

Roscuro will get fed up with his rat race and eventually revolt against the militaristic leaders of this underworld. Even above ground, as we watch the King, and another princess cope with their loss, we realize that all of these various characters and storylines will intersect.

But what's special about "Despereaux" is the way in which directors Sam Fell and Robert Stevenhagen pause the story at unexpected crossroads. Roscuro, a relatively honorable critter, revolts at one point and, in a fit of rage, commits a stunning crime.

Despereaux, dreaming at one point of being a hero, makes a colossal blunder that threatens his life. In one heartbreaking scene, as we watch the king and the princess mourn up on the surface, the camera lingers on one of the princess' servants. In a flash, we realize that this is no mere housekeeper but a conflicted soul who is every bit as interesting and important as any of the other characters we've met.

Fell and Stevenhagen thoughtfully constructed this servant's back story, telling of how this humble pig farmer was, in fact, abandoned by her father while still a baby. She has always dreamed of stepping foot inside this palace – if even to scrub its floors.

Moments like this crackle with the unpredictability of real life. It's not a world driven by plot, but a sumptuous world of colors and textures and individuals. There are times when these fallible, flawed characters surprise us, operating not as the story dictates but out of their own self-interest. They seem alive, and because of this, the story doesn't announce itself but lures us into its trance.

And so I found myself drawn in and absorbed, pondering these little mice who exhibited all the complexities of a human being. More than once, I compared myself to them, wondering if I had lost a little bit of the Despereaux inside of me, turning my back on adventure for the security of a flat-screen television and a weekly paycheck.

It's a movie that will stir the hearts of adults and the minds of children. Most parents take their young ones to movies in hopes of finding a 90-minute distraction. Here's a movie that might actually send families away debating what it all really meant.