‘Coyote vs. Acme’ Finds the Heart Beneath the Anvils and Explosions

Coyote vs. Acme is one of those films that proves a movie’s fate doesn’t always have anything to do with its quality. Initially shelved because of a corporate decision to take a tax write-down, the film’s underdog spirit eventually extended beyond the screen when it was given a second chance. As such, fans can now see this wonderful animation-live-action hybrid that, ironically, pits perennial underdog Wile E. Coyote against the very corporate machine that nearly kept his movie from ever being seen.

The premise feels like a joke that could only exist in a Looney Tunes movie. And yet, it has a story that speaks to the world we live in today. Here, the characters are underdogs who too often get knocked down, yet still find a reason to keep fighting.

After years of defective ACME products leaving him flattened, exploded, launched off cliffs, and otherwise humiliated in his endless pursuit of the Road Runner, Wile E. Coyote finally decides he’s had enough. Rather than ordering another contraption from the catalog, he takes ACME to court, enlisting the help of struggling attorney Kevin Avery (Will Forte) and his niece and Harvard Law graduate Paige Avery (Lana Condor) to sue the company responsible for decades of pain and suffering.

Kevin and Paige may be the ones representing Wile E., but they are hardly entering the case from positions of strength themselves. Kevin’s approach to legal matters is pragmatic, risk-averse, and initially pretty cynical. For him, that means settling small claims cases involving Looney Tunes characters, like Porky Pig getting into an accident with a cartoonishly large wrecking ball, as quickly as possible and accepting small settlements just to keep the lights on.

Paige, however, sees the law very differently. Where Kevin sees Wile E.’s injuries as another small claim that can be resolved and forgotten, Paige sees a pattern. One defective ACME product may only amount to a few hundred dollars, but a lifetime of defective products begins to suggest something much larger. Her instinct is to keep digging and challenge the company responsible because she still believes the law can be used to protect the little guy rather than simply keep a struggling law firm afloat.

Paige’s instincts eventually lead her, Kevin, and Wile E. to uncover the secret Project Sisyphus. This project suggests Wile E.’s experience may be part of something much larger. So, what begins as a relatively straightforward product-liability case gradually expands into an investigation of ACME itself and how the company treats the larger cartoon population. All of a sudden, Wile E. isn’t just one disgruntled customer trying to get compensation for some faulty rocket skates. His case could expose something systemic.

Even the name Project Sisyphus feels deliberately chosen. Like the figure from Greek mythology condemned to endlessly push a boulder uphill only to watch it roll back down, Wile E. has spent his life trapped in his own cycle of effort, failure, and starting over again. The difference is that Coyote vs. Acme finally allows him to question why he has been expected to accept that cycle in the first place. Recent reviews have also singled out the Sisyphus reference as central to the film’s treatment of Wile E.’s seemingly endless struggle.

Now, despite years of constant setbacks and failures, Wile E. has never been defined by giving up. If anything, his persistence has always been the joke. No matter how many rockets explode in his face, anvils flatten him, defective catapults launch him in the wrong direction, or his own black-hole paint gets turned against him, he always gets back up and tries again. Even when he runs straight off a cliff, hangs suspended in midair for a beat, and only plummets once he realizes there’s nothing beneath his feet, failure is never enough to stop him. Coyote vs. Acme takes that familiar gag and gives it a little more emotional weight. His constant attempts to catch the Road Runner stop looking quite so foolish and start feeling like proof that, no matter how badly things go, Wile E. simply refuses to quit.

In a way, Wile E.’s story stands in direct contrast to Kevin’s. Kevin has built his entire legal practice around minimizing risk and avoiding losses, while Wile E. has spent his entire existence losing and still refuses to stop trying. For Kevin, failure is something to fear. For Wile E., it’s practically a way of life. And Paige does everything she can to convince her uncle that he is capable of doing more than simply settling for whatever is easiest and least painful.

Which is why, when the nonverbal Wile E. walks into the offices of Avery, Jones, and Maltese looking for legal help, it almost feels like destiny. After seeing one of Kevin’s commercials, Wile E. goes so far as to cut the entire billboard down and bring it with him. Here is a client who has spent his entire life refusing to give up, standing before an attorney who has built his career around knowing when to quit.

That odd-couple dynamic would not work nearly as well without Will Forte, who understands that playing opposite Wile E. requires treating an inherently ridiculous situation with just enough sincerity. Kevin may be cynical and exhausted, but Forte never plays him as though he is above the cartoon insanity happening around him. Instead, his increasingly exasperated reactions become part of the joke, especially as Wile E.’s particular brand of chaos begins invading every corner of his already unstable life.

Lana Condor provides a warmer counterbalance as Paige, whose enthusiasm and belief in Wile E.’s case keeps Kevin from completely retreating into his cynicism. Condor brings an earnestness to Paige that could easily have become overly sentimental, but instead makes her feel like someone who sincerely believes these cartoon characters deserve to be taken seriously, even when everyone around her sees their pain as nothing more than a punchline.

John Cena, who plays ACME attorney Buddy Crane, also understands that this is a role where big, broad slapstick is part of the assignment. As such, he leans into the exaggerated confidence and physicality of a man who feels like he could have walked straight out of a Looney Tunes short himself. His larger-than-life performance makes him an appropriately ridiculous human extension of ACME, turning corporate arrogance into another form of cartoon excess. And it only makes sense that the man he represents is Foghorn Leghorn, whose booming voice, fast-talking confidence, and larger-than-life personality make him an almost comically perfect figurehead for ACME.

That willingness to embrace the absurdity extends well beyond Cena’s performance. Coyote vs. Acme is at its funniest when it fully commits to the kind of broad physical slapstick that has defined Looney Tunes for generations, particularly in the way its live-action world interacts with cartoon logic. Wile E. can casually pull out dynamite inside Kevin’s law office, set a settlement offer on fire, or use one of his painted tunnels as though the laws of physics were merely suggestions. The comedy comes from watching those impossible cartoon elements function inside an otherwise recognizable world, often with impeccable timing that gives the characters just enough time to realize how badly things are about to go before everything inevitably blows up in their faces.

Looney Tunes slapstick has never simply been about watching someone get flattened, turned into a pile of ash, or thrown across a canyon. It’s about how the comedy is able to deliver the punchline. Here, the setup is just as funny as the impact. There are brief pauses when a character realizes the dynamite is still in their hand, or when they notice there is no longer any ground beneath their feet, or when they figure out that an elaborate plan has somehow turned against them. Director Dave Green understands that rhythm, allowing the setup and realization to breathe just long enough before delivering the inevitable punchline.

In that sense, the film’s nods to the Looney Tunes legacy aren’t necessarily found in its cameos, but in how well it understands the comedic language of those original shorts. As such, all the impossible physics, escalating disasters, exaggerated reactions, and fourth-wall awareness are perfectly timed pauses that all feel rooted in what made these characters funny in the first place. Rather than treating Looney Tunes as something nostalgic to be preserved behind glass, Coyote vs. Acme honors that history by letting these characters be ridiculous again.

Eric Bauza’s brilliant voice work becomes essential to maintaining that connection to the Looney Tunes legacy. In the film, he voices Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Tweety, Porky Pig, Pepé Le Pew, and Foghorn Leghorn. These characters aren’t simply brought in for nostalgia, but rather their presence adds to the story. As such, it makes this strange world where humans and cartoons coexist feel even more believable while still resonating with the audiences and fans who grew up with them.

And Bauza’s vocal performances aren’t just limited to bit characters, as Bugs, Daffy, and Tweety become important pieces of the larger mystery surrounding ACME and Project Sisyphus, while Foghorn Leghorn represents the other side of that equation as the loud, self-important face of the corporation that is trying to silence the underdogs.

What could have easily turned into a tonal mess actually works because Coyote vs. Acme never loses sight of its heart or its sense of humor. Characters can fall from impossible heights, get blown up, or have all their feathers ripped off and still walk away from it. But that becomes part of what makes ACME so disturbing. If cartoons can survive almost anything, why wouldn’t a corporation see them as perfect test subjects? So when Daffy peels away that green goo and takes every feather with it, the sight is hilarious because it’s Daffy, but there’s also something pretty messed up about what happened to him. The same goes for Wile E. He can survive another explosion, but that doesn’t make what ACME has been doing to him any less wrong.

In the end, director Dave Green, working from a script by Samy Burch, delivers a resonant film whose own journey to the screen ended up mirroring the story it was telling. A movie about an underdog taking on a powerful corporation became an underdog story in its own right, and it likely would not have reached audiences without the fans and filmmakers who refused to let it disappear. In some ways, Coyote vs. Acme may have ended up becoming the most Wile E. Coyote story of all.

8/10