There has never been a better-designed Pixar character than Anton Ego. (Disney/Pixar)

What happened to you, Pixar?

There once was a time when you were a shining beacon for western animation, a beacon that came in the form of a hopping Luxo lamp.  From 1995 to 2010, you put on an incredible streak of success, which included a dozen Animation Oscars between 11 critically acclaimed films and loads of brilliant short pieces. Pixar, you were untouchable, your status as the gods of animation was never in question….

…and then…something just…went wrong.

The studio that once got into a fight with Disney over how to make Toy Story 2 is suddenly churning out sequels left and right. This month, Pixar announced that preproduction has begun on Cars 3 and The Incredibles 2, meaning that six of the nine Pixar films from this decade will be based on previous films. Now, "The Incredibles" is a story that ended on a very open note with loads of potential for a sequel…but Cars?! AGAIN?! The original film was considered good but well below Pixar’s standard. The sequel was a critical failure, the bomb that shattered Pixar’s infallibility. It generated a theme park ride, loads of short cartoons on Disney Channel, and a terrible spin-off that's getting a sequel of its own. "Cars" is now a billion-dollar franchise that has become the prime example of Pixar’s decline into banking off of past success.

I long for the days when Pixar was making films with artistic statements that had a flair and impact that none of their peers could seem to match.  I yearn for when they told stories about rediscovering a passion for life when youthful exuberance crumbles away, or when they created endearing characters and stories through character design, movement, music, and zero dialogue. But most of all, I miss when Pixar created characters that were not only a joy to look and listen to, but who delivered messages that have stuck with me to this day. 

There is one Pixar character that does all of these things, and it’s one you may not expect. It is Anton Ego, the stiff, unpleasable food critic in "Ratatouille."

In Pixar’s long line of amazing creations, there’s never been one with a design that expresses his persona so thoroughly as Anton’s. First, there is his outline, the most important part of any animated character. He is tall, narrow, almost hook-like in his posture. His face is a thin oval, with gaunt cheeks, a massive upper lip, and a triangular nose that is his most defining trait. He walks with a stiff gait, shoulders gently hunched and his hands usually behind his back.  When he speaks, he looms over those he deems inferior, with strategic lighting adding to his intimidating aura. Heck, his office is even shaped like a coffin. Every aspect of Anton and his surroundings show how jaded and spiritually dead he is.  He is such a stark contrast from the bouncy, dynamic characters that comprise the rest of the cast that he dominates every scene he is in. Every action and word is completely mesmerizing.

Ah, yes, the words. That brings us to Anton’s voice actor, the late, great Peter O’Toole. Lawrence of Arabia will be his legacy, but his performance in "Ratatouille" is a testament to the range of his acting ability. The cadence and tone of his speech commands everyone’s attention. It is deep, authoritative, and challenges others to defy his seemingly unshakeable beliefs about fine cuisine.

But when the protagonists accept this challenge, Anton has a dining experience that, as he says it, “rocks him to his core.” This leads him to writing a review that is one of the best dramatic monologues in the history of animated films. O’Toole delivers it with the tone of a man who has experienced something very sobering, yet awe-inspiring, and his words bear a truth that every critic should take heed of.

It would be easy to peg Anton Ego as a swipe by director Brad Bird against the movie critics that make a living judging his work, and in a way it is. But Ego’s speech rejects those that look for the most entertaining way possible to completely eviscerate someone else’s work. At the same time, it embraces critics as an essential part of the evolution of art. Ideally, critics are messengers, “friends of the new” as Anton says. They help their readers discover new artistic visions, to look more closely at the stories they see and hear at the cinema or on a TV or in a book. They challenge others to expand their horizons, to see how another person creatively interprets the world around them. Critics can champion a little-known yet brilliant work or bring attention to certain qualities of popular films that are mostly overlooked. 

This profound philosophy on criticism came not from a TED talk or a high-brow art house film or Broadway play, but from an animated film. This is the poignance that Pixar was once capable of and can be capable of again. Please guys, don't coast off your past successes. Don't settle for passable but unexceptional works like "Monsters University." And stop letting Disney steal your thunder! Take back your crown!

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Jeremy Fuster can be reached here or on Twitter