Review Roundup: Dave Green’s Coyote vs. Acme

One of the first things there is to admire about Coyote vs. Acme is just how effortless it is. It juggles its various plot threads and many, many gags by centering its emotional narrative on the relationship between Wile E. Coyote — who, it should be noted, remains silent the entire film and only speaks in signs that he admits he only has a limited number of — and Kevin Avery. The two of them develop a delightful buddy-comedy dynamic, with Forte demonstrating the kind of comedic panache displayed by the best actors who play opposite a cartoon character.

In this film, Warner Bros.’ Wile E. Coyote is explicitly positioned as an existential metaphor for the Sisyphusian suffering of living in a time and place where judges, senators, et al., are bought, sold, and mandated to screw the little guy. (The bad guys’ nefarious plan is called “Project: Sisyphus,” natch.) A person’s value is calculated based on employment and income, and the underclass are used as subjects in wide-ranging technological experiments without their consent. Justice? Grow up. Because Coyote Vs. Acme, like the Looney Tunes and Merry Melodies cartoons that paved the way for it, lands its kill shots with such deadly precision and utter ebullience, it never feels like a lecture. It does, however, feel like that concert you went to last night of a band you loved thirty years ago, and damned if they don’t still got it. It feels like a sermon when the preacher’s riding shotgun with the Almighty.

Now that we’re past the discovery phase and deep into the cross-examination of whether the film earns its hype, our verdict finds Coyote vs. Acme guilty on all counts — delivering a whirlwind of Looney Tunes hijinks, standout hybrid performances from its Hollywood and cartoon actors, and a surprisingly affecting portrait of animation’s most unlucky go-getter, proving its hard-fought battle for a theatrical release was absolutely worth it.

Back stories and flashbacks aren’t enough here. The filmmakers, like the animators they are imitating, resort to repetition, at one point unreeling four jumping-over-a-chasm gags in a row. But no matter how hard they try to inject energy, the film remains sober and restrained. It’s just too staid.

What rescues Coyote vs. Acme is the filmmakers’ respect and appreciation for the Warners heritage. No one betrays the animated universe — by suddenly learning how to speak, for example. No one steps out of character, even if Tweety has to play a villain at times.

Famously completed, then shelved by Warner Bros. for a tax break, then sold to another company in order to finally see the light of day, Coyote Vs. Acme is fittingly about corporate malpractice, filled with whistleblowers, fine print, and weaselly suits. It’s a Looney Dark Waters, both winningly silly and slyly intelligent about what winning really means, all wrapped into a referential live-action Tune world not unlike our own.

[H]istory gives Coyote Vs. Acme an irresistible extra layer of meta-textual satisfaction. But none of it is necessary for the movie to work. Had Warner Bros. simply released it as planned, director Dave Green’s film would still be a terrific, enormously delightful piece of entertainment — funny, inventive, surprisingly moving, and much smarter about the rich history of Looney Tunes than anyone had reason to expect.

The reshaping of Wile E. Coyote from an antagonist into a victim of the machine works well, but it’s really the non-stop verbal and sight gags that elevate Coyote vs. Acme. Whether it’s Luis Guzman being described as a “no-nonsense, no-silly-stuff judge,” or the random, almost vaudevillian jokes like “They told me he ran off with his secretary but I don’t think so — his secretary was a penguin,” Burch’s script is filled with enough minor chuckles to keep most people smiling throughout. There’s a bit with a courtroom sketch artist of a rocket shoe chasing Guzman’s judge around the court that justified a theatrical release on its own.

The first thing to love about Coyote vs. ACME is that it’s funny — like, really funny. The jokes in the film vary from big physical gags, background jokes, sharply-written one-liners, and Easter eggs for Looney Tunes fans. They also come at a rapid-fire pace that would best be compared to Zucker, Abrahams, and Zucker comedies like Airplane and The Naked Gun. And if every single gag doesn’t land, it’s okay because another one is coming right around the corner.