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For me have never been good at silence. When it’s quiet, my thoughts take over with non-stop thinking. It wasn’t until lockdown, when I was 27, that I received a diagnosis for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and autism spectrum disorder, but in hindsight, it explained a lot: the fidgety teenage nights, the late-night TV marathons, the perpetual requirement for something playing in the background.

As a kid, I faced intense sleep struggles. During periods of wakefulness, I yearned to rise and be active, but my sister and I occupied the same space so I stayed put, immobile and irritated. We discovered a solution: TV. We’d play movies after dark to calm the environment and occupy the quiet.

Our childhood home was quite unstable and frequently, we had solitude, so TV became our bedtime white noise. During adolescence, it was a regular practice: Choosing a feature became my ritual, then see it consecutively after dark for a week or two until a new one took over. Movies like Walter Mitty and The Breakfast Club were especial picks. But they weren’t guaranteed fixes, and my sleeping issues persisted.

I’ve watched it every night for 15 years. I often don’t make it past the opening credits without falling asleep.

Subsequently, around age 15 or 16, my mum – a childminder at the time – put on Ratatouille for the children under her care in the residence. The movie had recently debuted. She intended it as a distraction for them, but I viewed it as well and adored it.

Immediately, I made up my mind that it would be my sleep film for the night, and immediately, I felt I’d discovered a treasure. It’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t tried to fall asleep with a film playing, but the audio environment in Ratatouille is unusually steady. It’s not about the volume – naturally, you adjust the audio to preference – but the evenness. No sudden booms occur, no unexpected frights; just the steady hum of kitchens, intermittent kitchenware sounds.

Starting then, I ceased changing movies – Ratatouille became my nightly ritual. Nightly, without exception, I play it, and for 15 years, this has been the case. In effect, I’ve conditioned myself to doze off during it. It’s in my DVD collection, have it on my phone and iPad, and watch it via streaming away from home. Under no circumstances am I without it.

He’s been wonderfully understanding. Co-habitating for nearly a decade, which means he’s probably seen the first five minutes of Ratatouille thousands of times – far more often than me, since frequently, I’m asleep before the titles finish. He often holds off until I’m unconscious, shuts it down, and selects another program.

Occasionally, folks question whether I enjoy the movie, since I don’t reach the conclusion. The answer is yes, I love it. To the point where I occasionally regret its soporific effect, because I wish to view it in full. Likely, entire segments remain unseen, notwithstanding a decade and a half of repetition. But My fondness likely plays a role in its success: I trust it and feel comforted by it.

Among friends, it’s an ongoing humorous topic. If I stay over at theirs, they question when I’ll start the film. I’ve also talked it through with my therapist, who concurs that among adaptive strategies, there are far worse ways to help with symptoms of ADHD and autism.

I can’t imagine watching anything else at night now. A potential successor could be is the sequel, which is in the works. For now, the first film remains my choice. Or at least the first five minutes.