Josh O’Connor would like everyone to know that he is not campaigning for a live-action “Ratatouille.” He would also like it on record that he does not have the time, the schedule, or the emotional bandwidth to star in a Disney remake about a cartoon chef rat. And yet, for roughly the length of his “Saturday Night Live” monologue on Dec. 13, the 35-year-old actor managed to turn that very rumor into one of the night’s most memorable running jokes—proof that sometimes the best comedy comes from pretending you absolutely, definitely do not care about something while caring just enough to keep talking about it.
Fresh off the Netflix release of “Wake Up Dead Man,” the third installment in Rian Johnson’s “Knives Out” franchise, O’Connor took the “SNL” stage with the relaxed energy of someone who knows the audience is already on his side. He didn’t arrive as a traditional blockbuster movie star or tabloid fixture. Instead, he leaned into the slightly offbeat, internet-adjacent persona fans have come to associate with him: earnest, self-aware, and gently amused by the odd ways pop culture latches onto people.
Early in his monologue, O’Connor addressed the strange rumor that had been quietly following him around online. At some point in the recent past, he had mentioned that “Ratatouille,” Pixar’s beloved 2007 film about a rat who dreams of becoming a chef in Paris, was one of his favorite movies. That was it. No pitch. No wink at Disney. No suggestion of a reboot. But in the alchemy of fandom, that casual comment somehow morphed into speculation that O’Connor should play Alfredo Linguini—the lanky, anxious human chef who becomes the unlikely partner of Remy the rat—in a hypothetical live-action remake.
The actor framed the situation as something he barely knew existed. “I’m not very online,” he told the audience, explaining that he was blissfully unaware of the fan casting until, in his telling, the president of Disney Pixar publicly declared there would never be a live-action “Ratatouille” remake, “no matter how much Josh O’Connor wants it.” The line landed because of its absurdity. Here was an actor joking about being preemptively rejected from a role that does not exist in a movie that is not being made.
The joke, of course, was rooted in a real moment. In a 2024 interview with Time, Pixar chief creative officer Pete Docter was asked about online chatter calling for live-action remakes of Pixar classics, including the idea of O’Connor as Linguini. Docter didn’t sugarcoat his feelings. He admitted that the trend “bothers me,” explaining that he prefers creating original stories rather than reworking animated films in live action. For Docter, remakes are not particularly interesting from a creative standpoint, especially when the original films already do exactly what they set out to do.
O’Connor took that creative stance and transformed it into mock heartbreak. “Do you know how it feels to be publicly rejected from a job I didn’t even want?” he asked, milking the moment for all it was worth. It was self-deprecating, slightly melodramatic, and perfectly aligned with his comedic sensibility.
He then attempted to shut the door on the whole thing, insisting that he truly does not want a live-action “Ratatouille.” His reasoning was practical: he simply doesn’t have time. Between projects like “The Mastermind,” his role in “Wake Up Dead Man,” and an upcoming Steven Spielberg film, O’Connor’s schedule is packed. By all accounts, this should have been the end of the bit—a clean, logical conclusion that reassured Disney executives and Pixar purists alike.
But O’Connor, sensing the audience’s delight, could not resist reopening the wound.
Moments later, he circled back, apologizing almost sheepishly before confessing that, hypothetically speaking, he would “kill as Linguini.” The contradiction was the joke. He even asked for an image of the character to be shown, pointing out Linguini’s oversized ears and suggesting—only half-jokingly—that “Ratatouille” is “basically a queer love story.” Then, just as quickly, he undercut himself again, agreeing that it should not be made and that perhaps it was best left untouched.
As if that weren’t enough, he returned to the subject one final time, casually suggesting that Jeff Goldblum would be perfect casting for Anton Ego, the severe food critic whose review ultimately defines the film’s emotional climax. By that point, the audience was fully in on the joke: O’Connor was pretending to let go of an idea while clearly enjoying every second of keeping it alive.
The “Ratatouille” bit wasn’t the only moment of self-aware humor in O’Connor’s monologue. He also poked fun at his own appearance, joking that for those who recognize his face but can’t quite place him, “no, I am not the mouse from ‘Flushed Away.’” The reference to the 2006 animated film about a posh British rodent was another wink at the strange overlap between his physical features and animated characters, a comparison that only works because he leans into it rather than resisting it.
He also embraced his reputation as a so-called “soft boy,” listing off hobbies that sound more like a cozy lifestyle influencer than a Hollywood leading man. “I embroider, I scrapbook, I garden,” he said, before delivering the punchline: “I’m just your average, everyday 65-year-old woman, and I’m just trying to live a quiet life.” It was an affectionate send-up of the way fans have labeled him—sensitive, artistic, quietly charming—and a reminder that he’s fully aware of the image people project onto him.
That awareness has become a key part of O’Connor’s appeal. Over the years, he’s built a career playing emotionally complex characters, often men who feel slightly out of step with their surroundings. Whether it’s his breakout role as Prince Charles in “The Crown,” his intense turn in “Challengers,” or his latest role as Father Jud in “Wake Up Dead Man,” O’Connor tends to gravitate toward parts that allow him to explore vulnerability, tension, and quiet inner conflict. His “SNL” appearance suggested that he brings that same sensibility to comedy, favoring irony and understatement over big, showy punchlines.
“Wake Up Dead Man,” the film he was ostensibly there to promote, places him squarely in the expanding “Knives Out” universe as the latest sidekick to Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc. The role adds another layer to O’Connor’s growing filmography, which increasingly balances prestige projects with mainstream visibility. Hosting “SNL” one day after the film’s release felt like a strategic moment, introducing him to a wider audience while allowing him to shape the narrative around his public persona.
The episode itself was packed with buzzy moments beyond O’Connor’s monologue. Musical guest Lily Allen, promoting her breakup album “West End Girl,” delivered performances of “Sleepwalking” and “Madeline.” The latter song came with a surprise cameo from Dakota Johnson, who appeared onstage as the titular Madeline—the woman Allen’s lyrics address with a mix of vulnerability and confrontation. The cameo added an extra layer of pop culture intrigue to an already eventful night.
But it was O’Connor’s playful relationship with the “Ratatouille” rumor that lingered longest. In a media landscape where actors often carefully manage every whisper about potential roles, his willingness to joke about being rejected from a fictional job felt refreshing. He wasn’t trying to manifest a franchise or position himself as the obvious choice for a reboot. Instead, he treated the entire situation as a comedic thought experiment, poking fun at fan culture, studio politics, and his own accidental place in the conversation.
In the end, O’Connor made one thing clear: there is no live-action “Ratatouille” in the works, and if Pixar has its way, there never will be. But he also demonstrated that even the faintest rumor can become fertile ground for humor when an actor is willing to laugh at himself. Whether or not he ever dons a chef’s hat—or shares the screen with a CGI rat—Josh O’Connor has already proven that he knows exactly how to serve a joke while keeping the audience hungry for more.