Find this story in your account’s ‘Saved for Later’ section.
When Warner Bros. shelved Coyote vs. Acme back in late 2023, audiences were left wondering why. Reports soon emerged claiming that the studio, newly merged with Discovery, had done it as a tax write-off. But why Coyote vs. Acme and not any of the other less-fun-sounding movies it also had in the can, like the Kevin Costner vanity project Horizon: An American Saga — Part 1 or the Clint Eastwood–directed Juror No. 2?
If American box-office numbers have proved anything historically, it’s that parents will more often than not take their kids to see whatever family-friendly fare is in theaters. (This year alone, seven of the top-20 grossing movies have been animated, with arguably six of the other live-action top-grossing movies also considered generally okay to watch with elementary-age kids and older.) I’ll take my 8-year-old twins to see almost anything in the theater, from revival flicks I loved in the ’80s and ’90s to the dead-boring Rihanna vehicle Smurfs, which I slept through about two-thirds of. So what could Warner Bros. have thought was wrong with Coyote vs. Acme? Was it not funny? Too adult? Too juvenile? Too out there? Too unbankable, even if it got shoved onto a streaming platform instead? Whatever the case, Warner eventually sold the movie to the independent studio Ketchup Entertainment, which is giving Coyote vs. Acme a long-delayed theatrical opening this weekend.
Heading into an advance screening with my family, I had reason to worry — and not just because my kids don’t have the same relationship as I do with the vocal stylings of Clancy T. Bachleratt. When they were a bit smaller, I took them to a “Looney Tunes on a Saturday morning” type screening only to be quickly reminded that (a) there are a ton of guns in Looney Tunes cartoons and (b) Daffy Duck quite often gets shot in the face over and over with those guns. Couple that with Pepé Le Pew’s questionable views on consent and a good amount of dated racial stereotyping, and I left that event planning the conversations we’d need to have about “then versus now” and “real versus cartoon” in the days and weeks to come.
While Coyote vs. Acme likely wouldn’t carry the same baggage as those decades-old cartoons, a movie based on a New Yorker “Shouts and Murmurs” column isn’t the best sell for kids. I knew I’d like it since I like Will Forte and I like watching characters walk off a cliff into the air and then plummet until they turn into a little cloud of dust, but would my kids be into a legal thriller about mostly nonverbal cartoons?
As it turns out, yes, my kids would. Immediately after watching it, both my kids gave the movie a five out of five stars, with my son subsequently running down all the parts he really liked for me in great detail. They’re not alone either. Critics also love it, with the film somehow managing to debut on Rotten Tomatoes with a 101 percent positive rating — a “take that, Warner Bros.” moment so cartoonish it might as well have been delivered via a swift-moving oversize mallet.
Perhaps the reason my kids loved it is that now they’re old enough to get the more “adult” parts of the movie as well as all the slapstick.
A preschooler might find Coyote vs. Acme to be boring or almost scary at parts, but for elementary-age kids, it should be just right. My husband and I liked it too, and older kids should enjoy it as well. It hits the exact sweet spot as a family movie to see together or to throw on for a night on the couch.
There were a few points I worried the movie was losing my kids, if only because a minute or two had passed without any cartoonish action. The biggest period of uncertainty was during a prolonged hearing in front of the U.S. Senate near the end of the movie, when both Forte and a very bad Foghorn Leghorn deliver impassioned speeches about the importance (or lack thereof) of personal choice and corporate freedom — but I was wrong. They came away from the movie not only with an even greater interest in the Looney Tunes genre but with a newfound knowledge of legal thrillers. They also managed to absorb messages of friendship, perseverance, and the value of doing what’s right even when everyone else tells you to just go with the flow, so that’s a win in my book.
While the movie opens with a flashback scene setting up the origins of the mysterious Project Sisyphus, the real looney action kicks off about four minutes in, when viewers get their first glimpse at Wile E. Coyote as he tries (again) to best the Road Runner. It goes about as well as you’d expect, with the legendary loser falling prey to three Acme products: a magnetic glove, a pair of rocket skates, and a ballistic missile. It’s hilarious and surprisingly executed, even to those with plenty of Looney Tunes experience, and the defeated shuffle the coyote does back to his cave full of foiled plans and faulty Acme gear right after sets up the rest of the movie beautifully. You’ll come away steaming mad, not only for the hell that poor coyote’s had to endure for decades thanks to the evil people down at Acme, but also at Warner Bros., whose shelving of this incredible movie makes the studio look just about as sinister.
That thematic synchronicity is what helped my kids get more out of Coyote vs. Acme than just the thrill of a zillion silly anvil smashes. They learned about perseverance and justice both legal and social. They also learned that while cartoon violence might look silly, the threat of us being blown to smithereens by a glowing stick of dynamite pales in comparison to the evils of corporate greed. It’s a lesson that, in a perfect world, I wouldn’t have had to teach, but at least this way I was able to package it in a big old crate with an “Acme” label slapped on the side.
By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice and to receive email correspondence from us.
