Review: Coyote vs. Acme

[The following review contains MINOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]

On paper, the bare-bones elevator pitch for Coyote vs. Acme—“What if Wile E. Coyote sued the Acme Corporation for consistently selling him defective products?”—sounds like the premise of a rather lackluster Saturday Night Live sketch. The synopsis certainly leads one to expect the sort of insufferably snarky, tongue-in-cheek, postmodern style of genre deconstruction that today’s youth would describe as “irony-poisoned.” Fortunately, the script does not consider itself too “clever” to take cartoons seriously. This isn’t a shallow parody that implicitly dismisses its subject as low-hanging fruit; the screenwriters sincerely respect the craftsmanship of such animators as Friz Freleng, Tex Avery, and (of course) Chuck Jones, making a genuine effort to explore the thematic subtext beneath the slapstick that made those classic Looney Tunes shorts so appealing. The eponymous anthropomorphic carnivore, for example, is reimagined as perseverance personified. Supporting characters frequently remark upon his tenacity: no matter how often his gadgets explode in his face, no matter how spectacularly and humiliatingly he fails, he steadfastly refuses to abandon his pursuit of the Road Runner (an exercise in futility that the narrative explicitly compares to the myth of Sisyphus). He finds a worthy foil (and eventual kindred spirit) in Will Forte’s Kevin Avery, a cowardly, lazy attorney that specializes in settling small claims cases out of court; while his disillusionment with the system and fear of losing initially make him a poor trial lawyer, his newest client’s dogged determination gradually inspires him to finally confront his flaws, reevaluate his defeatist attitude, and rediscover the courage to stand up for the little guy.

Thus, Coyote vs. Acme is ultimately the quintessential underdog story—which is only appropriate for a film that very nearly languished on a neglected shelf in the Warner Bros. vault for eternity. The fact that it reached cinemas at all is miraculous in and of itself—a rare triumph of artistry over corporate greed (alas, the parties responsible for initially preventing its theatrical release will nevertheless award themselves fat bonuses before floating away on their golden parachutes; c’est la vie). In this context, the movie’s existence alone is cause enough for celebration, regardless of its actual quality; that it is relentlessly entertaining is simply a welcome treat.