The idea must have looked bizarre on paper: a poignant comedy-drama about a half-human, half-rodent orphan found living in an LA dump, groomed to be a media sensation, and exploited by various Hollywood hustlers in search of a quick buck. It could have been an intriguing fantasy of show-biz manipulation, but like its title character the film cowers timidly in a corner, unwilling to break free from convention. Actress-turned-director Sondra Locke doesn't shy away from unflattering characterizations (she herself plays a ruthless opportunist using Ratboy as her ticket to fame), and wisely doesn't disturb the air of unreality around the story (no one, for example, shows much interest in Ratboy's origins). But the title character himself is never more than a transparent metaphor, and once that idea is exhausted nothing is left except a few gratuitous car chases and an ending drenched in post-E.T. pathos. The French apparently loved it, but keep in mind these are the same cinephiles who consider Jerry Lewis a comic genius.
