[Rating: Solid Rock Fist Up]
In Theaters Friday, August 28
A dazzling mix of meta humor and prescient social commentary that has both its heart and head in the right place, Coyote vs Acme isn’t just a great movie: it’s a bracing referendum on the state of the world. One could be forgiven for assuming that such plaudits are a little exaggerated in light of the source material, yet director Dave Green and the screenplay by Samy Burch deserve a hell of a lot of credit, here, and force one to wonder why something this good almost evaporated into Hollywood’s tax shelter ether. It might sound conspiratorial to presume that it had something to do with the fact that this cartoon mash-up hit maybe a little too close to the bullseye with its messaging, but after seeing the finished product, it is a scenario one must at least consider.
After a quick cold open, Coyote vs Acme starts in a New Mexico desert where Wile E. Coyote (WEC) is engaging in his never-ending pursuit of the Roadrunner, whose escape from Acme rocket skate and magnet glove capture attempts leave his nemesis bruised in more ways than one. WEC’s retreat into his cave/home reveals a lifetime of failed schemes catalogued and filed away, giving a rare peek behind the character’s personal curtain. A television ad from personal injury attorney Kevin Avery (Will Forte) snags WEC’s attention in this desperate moment, and seems to almost speak right at him when saying, “have you ever pulled the ripcord of your parachute, and only a bunch of silverware falls out? It’s not your fault!”
WEC visits Kevin’s law office, refusing a quick payout to instead demand a trial where he can put Acme Inc. on the spot for years of shoddy product development. This is hardly music to Kevin’s ears, however, as Acme is represented by his old law school colleague, Buddy Crane (John Cena), whose resources and political connections are certain to make quick work of Kevin’s suit. Even so, WEC remains undeterred, and before long, Kevin and niece/intern, Paige (Lana Condor), stumble onto a massive conspiracy that speaks to more than just Acme’s shoddy product development.
This all leads to some clever and unexpected narrative developments this review won’t spoil, except to say that they are more than just excuses to seed the film with Warner Brothers I.P. (a-la Space Jam 2). No, this is a real-ass movie with interesting and timely subtext supporting a story that has actual depth to it. Acme’s outsized place in the sociopolitical framework of this fictional universe is a crucial component of Kevin, Paige, and WEC’s journey, and it seems very much of a piece of the real (hell) world where Coyote vs. Acme has landed.
How does one fight injustice when the legal and political apparatus underpinning a society is in the bag for the oppressor? Kevin may be a bit of a coward and an underachiever, but like WEC, he’s also a survivor, and a big part of the movie’s arc is exploring the ways attorney and client learn and grow as a result of their partnership. And despite the hurdle of creating chemistry between real-life actors and animated scene partners, Green and team do a remarkable job achieving just that.
Perhaps it is just the history of sympathy and affection for the mute canine, but Coyote vs. Acme brings genuine pathos and character out of Warner Brothers’ most famous desert dweller. While Forte and the other human actors sometimes struggle to create a believable interplay with the tennis balls they are acting against, one never doubts the emotional range or depth of WEC any moment that he’s on-screen. The movie is patient and thoughtful in its portrayal of the character and knows how to cash in on the audience’s history with WEC, leading to several impactful scenes that have no reason being as effective as they are.
It really is an impressive achievement, and is made all the more so because it pairs this good emotional work with a narrative whose meta subtext meets not just the moment, but the unique circumstances surrounding the film’s release. This is a movie that contends with the idea that big corporations aren’t just evil, but are knowingly so and rely on the fact that the prevailing government and legal systems won’t punish them for this sin. That the real Warner Brothers, a movie studio, gave in to the cynicism of a tax write-off against the merits of releasing a well-made motion picture completes the thematic work of Coyote vs. Acme before a single frame passes.
The world has reached an inflection point where the scales are tipping out of balance everywhere a person looks. Governments serve corporations instead of citizens; companies serve investors instead of customers; and now movie studios are serving investors instead of releasing movies. Everywhere people look, folks are pulling ripcords and finding nothing but silverware instead of parachutes, and if ever there was a movie to capture the spirit of that moment, it is one about a Coyote living a miserable, unfair, Sisyphean existence.
A little rough around the acting edges at times, and probably about 10-15 minutes longer than it needs to be, Coyote vs. Acme is nevertheless an outstanding animated mash-up comedy with real heart and timely themes. And while the powers that be wanted nothing more than to send this off a cliff to disappear into a tiny poof at the bottom of a chasm, this one has all the potential of a clever roadrunner beeping its way across the finish line.
“Obvious Child” is the debut novel of Warren Cantrell, a film and music critic based out of Seattle, Washington. Mr. Cantrell has covered the Sundance and Seattle International Film Festivals, and provides regular dispatches for Scene-Stealers and The Playlist. Warren holds a B.A. and M.A. in History, and his hobbies include bourbon drinking, novel writing, and full-contact kickboxing.
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