I recently watched the disney animation, Ratatouille, and I was pleasently surprised. When it comes to film, I use my intellect in film and cinematic ideas which reflect my feelings and emotions towards cinema, but this disney film, which I was so sure would be another mindless yet 'loveable' personified animal film, actually turned out in the end to be quite humbling.

Of course, the first hour and a bit were shockingly disney, but what do you really expect? A rat in the rural heartlands of France discovers his love for cooking, with the help of his deceased inspiration and spirit mentor, Linguini (Lou Romano). As you can imagine, we are trundling through Walt town now, knee deep in mouse 'you-know-what'.

The food critic, Ego, in the animation is what really caught my heart. his views on Linguini's restaurant had suddenly changed and was humbled as he gorged apon his favourite childhood dish (I'm sure the readers can guess) and suddenly my views of the film changed as I, too, sat there, humbled at what I had just seen.

For a split second Ego and myself had formed a parrallel method of thought- as if he was humbled at the plot and I the narrative as suddenly my dogmatic views of film went out the window as a single tear fell from my eye.

Walt Disney you really have defeated me. I am humbled in your presence. This critic will no longer become cynical.

I had heard the negative reviews about this not being as good as the reviews suggested, but I thought it was great and I am an adult.

Its about four years since i have seen or heard a milkman on his rounds...apart from at the beginning of Easties or Corrie where the float goes down the Square/Street.... We havent got one in the area I live in any more, and although it is cheaper to buy from the supermarket, I miss the milkman and hearing the sound of his float and the clink of milk bottles while i am still half asleep. I miss having milk in bottles too, rather than in plastic containers. Our milky used to always have bread with him in case you had run short, and cream, pop , even spuds. Used to like his ring on the bell Friday evening to get paid and have a cheery word or two. It is sad to see this tradition dying out - does it still exist where you live?

Yes . . . . . . . . . . .