Review: The Film, Coyote Vs. Acme…

The “us versus them” struggle is one of humanity’s oldest and most universal conflicts—especially when “us” is the little guy and “them” is a towering institution—say, a corporation.

Coyote Vs. Acme (2026) brings beloved Warner Brothers characters together for a story that feels long overdue. The familiar cast appears on both sides of the conflict: Bugs Bunny and the Road Runner support Wile E., while Foghorn Leghorn takes his place among Acme’s corporate defenders. Each character remains true to the personality audiences know, but these new allegiances turn familiar cartoon rivalries into a witty commentary on power, loyalty, and corporate responsibility—without sacrificing the mischief and joie de vivre that make the Looney Tunes world so enduring.

Inspired—or, more accurately, written—by humorist Ian Frazier’s 1990 New Yorker piece, the story asks an obvious question: after so many defective Acme products, why hasn’t Wile E. Coyote sued? He finally does, hiring struggling personal injury lawyer Kevin Avery (Will Forte, MacGruber) and legal clerk Paige (Lana Condor, X-Men: Apocalypse) to take on Acme’s polished counsel, Buddy Crane (John Cena, Peacemaker), and ruthless CEO, Foghorn Leghorn. Their case uncovers a conspiracy in which Acme used cartoon characters as product-test subjects. With help from whistleblowers Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, testimony from the Road Runner, and crucial video evidence, the cover-up collapses. Leghorn and Crane are arrested, Kevin’s firm is rescued by new clients, and Wile E. happily returns to chasing the Road Runner.

The central twist of CVA comes with the discovery of Project Sisyphus, a corporate conspiracy revealing that Acme Corporation deliberately used the Looney Tunes to test dangerous, defective gadgets before selling them to humans. For Wile E. Coyote, the revelation is deeply personal: his lifelong chase was never a fair contest, but a manipulated experiment. Even so, he loses his individual case despite the Road Runner’s unexpectedly friendly testimony. The case takes a decisive turn, however, when Bugs Bunny exposes the scheme with explosive video evidence. In the end, the resulting class-action lawsuit brings down Acme’s executives and delivers a broader victory for cartoon kind.

CVA examines corporate accountability, systemic indifference, and the persistence needed to challenge unchecked power. The Acme Corporation offers a pointed satire of profit-driven megacorporations: through Project Sisyphus, it treats the Looney Tunes as disposable test subjects and their suffering as simply another cost of doing business. Wile E. Coyote, meanwhile, keeps going despite defective products, repeated humiliation, and the discovery that his lifelong chase was a rigged experiment. The climax sharpens the contrast between corporate efficiency and genuine empathy, as the Road Runner testifies for Wile E. and Bugs Bunny exposes Acme’s scheme with video evidence. Kevin Avery’s move from quietly settling cases to fighting alongside the cartoons brings the argument home: community, persistence, and a few well-timed acts of courage can make even powerful institutions answer for what they have done. 

Key motifs in Coyote Vs. Acme include faulty machinery, the courtroom as an arena, and the blend of live action and animation. Malfunctioning rockets, defective TNT, and unreliable gadgets are not just running jokes—they reflect consumer capitalism’s broken promises and the limits of human control. The courtroom, meanwhile, turns cartoon slapstick into a serious debate about labor rights, corporate accountability, and the commodification of suffering. Much like Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988), the film sets everyday reality against cartoon chaos, using that clash to show how the Looney Tunes’ elastic resilience can bend—and ultimately challenge—the rigid rules of the human world. 

Will Forte plays Kevin Avery, a cynical, barely qualified personal injury lawyer who takes on Wile E. Coyote’s massive lawsuit against Acme. His performance feels surprisingly restrained—perhaps to avoid upstaging the Warner Brothers characters. John Cena cheerfully lampoons himself as Buddy Crane, Acme’s slick, profit-driven defense attorney, while Lana Condor brings welcome candor to the role of Kevin’s ambitious legal intern. Eric Bauza (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) voices several classic characters, including Bugs Bunny; he gives it his best, but he is no Mel Blanc, the original voice behind many Looney Tunes favorites. 

CVA earned widespread critical acclaim, scoring 95–96 percent on Rotten Tomatoes, though reviewers still raised a few reservations. Some pointed to pacing lulls across the 103-minute runtime, particularly when the live-action courtroom plot slows the cartoons’ manic energy. Traditionalists also questioned the decision to recast Wile E. Coyote as a sympathetic, inspirational underdog with genuine emotional weight, arguing that it softens the gleeful, consequence-free chaos of the original shorts. Others found the legal story predictable and its human characters less compelling than their animated counterparts. Even so, the film’s wit, affection for the Looney Tunes, and inventive blend of satire and slapstick make those flaws feel more like minor detours than major derailments. 

Through a critical-theory lens, CVA works as both corporate satire and allegories for modern labor, systemic exploitation, and institutional indifference. Wile E. is framed less as a bumbling craftsman blaming his tools than as a consumer trapped by the all-powerful Acme Corporation; the possibility that his explosive devices were deliberately faulty points to corporate negligence and planned obsolescence. His uphill lawsuit likewise echoes the working class’s struggle against institutional power: he is not asking for a handout, but demanding accountability from a lopsided system in which small-time lawyer Kevin Avery faces polished corporate counsel Buddy Crane. The film’s message also mirrors its own production history. Warner Bros. Discovery shelved it for a tax write-off, but public backlash and its eventual rescue by Ketchup Entertainment turned the movie into a fitting symbol of creators and fans pushing back against Hollywood’s corporate machinery.

Coyote Vs. Acme ultimately works as both an “us versus them” story and a playful David-and-Goliath metaphor, balancing corporate satire with the familiar chaos of the Looney Tunes. Smart, lively, and surprisingly thoughtful, it offers plenty for longtime fans and newcomers alike—and earns an enthusiastic recommendation.