Coyote vs. ACME

Violating Every Law, Including the Laws of Physics and Gravity

or

Sue ACME!?! The One's You SHOULD Be Suing is Warner Bros.! 

 

Writer Michael Maltese and director Charles M. Jones created the long-enduring "Roadrunner" (Geococcyx californianus*)/ "Coyote" (Canis latrans** series in 1949 (debuting September 17th of that year) with the animated short "Fast and Furry-ous," they could not have known how enduring the concept would become. Their stated intention was to parody the current "chase" cartoons—like "Tom and Jerry" being produced by their rivals at M-G-M.*** 

 

The concept could not have been simpler: a hungry coyote attempts to feed himself by chasing a roadrunner along the buttes and mesas of Arizona with the purpose of catching it. Being of less speed than his prey, he augments his pursuit by various lethal means, all of which seem to work against him. Sometimes to a degree that can only call in the intervention of a divine power. Still, undaunted (although increasingly fragile of mind, body, and spirit), the coyote continues his quest, either convinced of his own eventual inevitable superiority or because he's crippled with obsession to an unhinged degree. 

 

Maybe, he's just really hungry.

But, he would never...ever...give up. His character is defined in that way. One could see Job in the coyote. Or Sisyphus, something this latest film acknowledges in a little too "on-the-nose" fashion. But, such thoughts are only in the aftermath. They don't come when you're experiencing it, because you're too busy laughing. Or identifying.

 

Both those thoughts came to mind (when I wasn't guffawing) while watching Coyote vs. Acme, the latest "Looney Tunes" movie and certainly the most successful (artistically, at least) of its home studio's many attempts at trying to reclaim its glory days of producing good material from the anarchic spirits of inhabiting "Termite Terrace" doing the work. Face it. Most of the recent "Looney Tunes" attempts have been less than looney, but merely coasting on character recognition and lame recycled material (more on Warner Brothers and their hapless way of handling their little animated gold-mine later). 

 

But, Coyote vs. ACME builds on an inspired good idea from a 1990 New Yorker humor piece of the same name written by Ian Frazier. Then, expands it, complicates it and fills it so full of in-jokes, real-world parallels, and well-timed cartoon moments that the eventual cartoon "Kaboom" is inevitable. The cascading shrapnel of laughter is the end-result. And, boy, do we need that now.

Frazier's article took the form of a protracted legal brief. But, Coyote vs. ACME begins with the last body-penetrating straw. Wile E. Coyote ("Super-genius") attempts to chase the Roadrunner utilizing his latest delivery from the ACME Corporation—ACME having a history of being the second worst company to order from (TEMU being the first)—a pair of jet-powered roller-skates. Of course, they malfunction. Of course, things go from bad to worse to worst. Of course, it ends up with a coyote-shaped hole in the desert. And then, the burned-to-a-flattened-crisp canine sees a possible answer. A billboard for the law-firm of Avery, Jones and Maltese (nudge, nudge), led by Will Forte's Kevin Avery) specializing in personal cartoon injuries, court-cases that they inevitable settle out of court. They also offer "Twofer Tuesdays".

So, saddled with a ruck-sack of evidence (it IS a cartoon after all), the hapless coyote travels to the law-firm's headquarters in Albuquerque (not making any left-turns) and demands justice. Not a settlement. A real honest-to-Perry Mason judgement against ACME and their claim of only making "life-enhancing family products." Their lead attorney is the detestable Buddy Crane (Jon Cena), a monster of a litigator at the behest of its CEO, a Mr. F. Leghorn.

I've already spoiled a couple jokes. I will not spoil any others and leave it to your own version of a "Discovery Phase" to enjoy them unrecycled. But, I will say that the jokes come "fast and furry-ous", one on top of the other, exquisitely timed, building to the hammering topper, with screens so full of detail that I probably MISSED as many jokes as I enjoyed. Definitely a repeat-screener.

Is it perfect? No (no comedy is...). There is a live-action chase scene that Chuck Jones would have cut in half, and the ending bends embedded character-tropes to the point of fraying a snapping. And, there is one radical little idea that they might have exploited for an ending that is probably too finger-lickin' good to use. But, these are quibbles. Only an old curmudgeonly Looney Tunes fan like myself should let those lost opportunities darken what is there.

It's a miracle that this movie has reached screens at all. The bone-headed bean-counters at Warner Brothers funded the film to the looney tune of millions of dollars, and, in a move that could only exist in a The Producers-like universe of accountancy, decided that, after all that time and effort...and quality results...they would shelve it, never to see the light of a projector (wait for it)...as a TAX WRITE-OFF. It's a move so contrarian, so Bizarro-world™ (also owned by Warner Brothers), so maroonish, it could be its own cartoon, and fit squarely (and squirrely) into the very movie they were abandoning.

That it's in theaters AT ALL is solely because of fan-protests, a certain amount of deserved corporate shaming, and the cash-waving of ketchup entertainment, who took it out of the cold dead hands of Warner Brothers mis-management in order to put it in theaters and eventually home entertainment. The situation is acknowledged in the end-credits...and there's a nice little dig at Warner Brothers right of the bat.

Perhaps, the WB should abandon Bugs Bunny and Michigan J. Frog as appropriate mascots and, instead, use the coyote as their propensity for shooting themselves in the foot with their own product is becoming the true trademark of this once-great studio.

 

* ** A list of the faux-latin taxonomy names 

Cartoon                                           Roadrunner                           Coyote

"Fast and Furry-ous" 1949            Acceleratii Incredibus           Carnivorous vulgaris

"Zipping Along" 1953                     Velocitus tremenjus              Road-Runnerus digestus

"Stop! Look! And Hasten!" 1954    Hot-roddicus supersonicus   Eatibus anythingus

"Ready.. Set.. Zoom!" 1955           Speedipus rex                        Famishus-famishus 

"Guided Muscle" 1955                    Velocitus delectiblus             Eatibus almost anythingus 

"Gee Whiz-z-z-z-z-z-z" 1956         Delicius-delicius                    Eatius birdius 

"There They Go-Go-Go!" 1956       Dig-outius tid-bittius             Famishius fantasticus

"Scrambled Aches" 1957               Tastyus supersonicus            Eternalii famishiis

"Zoom and Bored" 1957                Birdibus zippibus                   Famishus vulgarus

"Whoa, Be-Gone!" 1958                Birdius high-ballius               Famishus vulgaris ingeniusi 

"Hook, Line and Stinker" 1958      Burnius-roadibus                  Famishius-famishus 

"Hip Hip- Hurry!" 1958                  Digoutis-unbelievablii           Eatius Slobbius 

"Hot-Rod and Reel!" 1959             Super-sonicus-tastius            Famishius-famishus 

"Wild About Hurry" 1959              Batoutahelius                         Hardheadipus oedipus

"Fastest with the Mostest" 1960   Velocitus incalcublii              Carnivorous slobbius 

"Hopalong Casualty" 1960            Speedipus rex                         Hard-Headipus ravenus

"Zip 'n Snort" 1961                        Digoutius-hot-rodis                Evereadii eatibus 

"Lickety-Splat" 1961                      Fastius tasty-us                     Apetitus giganticus 

"Beep Prepared" 1961                   Tid-bitius velocitus                Hungrii flea-baggius

"Zoom at the Top" 1962                Disappearialis quickius          Overconfidentii vulgaris 

 

 *** Jones said he was inspired by a childhood reading of Mark Twain's "Roughing it".

In his book "Chuck Amuck" he wrote, "I first became interested in the coyote while devouring Mark Twain’s Roughing It at the age of seven. I had heard of the coyote only in passing references from passing adults and thought of it – if I thought of it at all – as a sort of dissolute collie.  As it turns out, that is just about what a coyote is; and no one saw it more clearly than Mark Twain. The author’s description of a coyote went like this: 'The coyote is a long, slim, sick and sorry-looking skeleton with a grey wolf skin stretched over it…he is a living, breathing allegory of want. Who could resist such an enchanting creature?’" 

 

Argylle

Accent on the "Arrrgh"

or

Henry Cavill's Failed James Bond Audition (Part 3)

Aubrey Argyle (Henry Cavill), an agent for an intelligence division (headed by Richard E. Grant) is on a mission in Greece to find a source of information (doesn't matter what it is...it never matters). In contact with his associates, Wyatt (John Cena) and Keira (Ariana DeBose), he infiltrates a dance club where he asks the seductress LaGrange (Dua Lipa) to dance the "whirleybird," a dance where he basically wears his partner as a muffler. She reveals that the whole set-up is a trap to kill him. She exits, while everyone in the club pulls out an automatic weapon. With such a circular firing squad, Argylle escapes, but is fired upon by a waiting LaGrange. Keira pulls up in a range rover to pursue her, but is shot through the heart. He alerts Wyatt that LaGrange is making her escape, and makes the choice to leave the wounded Keira and hijacks a vehicle to pursue LaGrange himself. As she speeds off down a winding, switch-backing road, Argylle takes the shortest route, over the roof-tops of local buildings, crashing down stair-cases, causing all sorts of damage to the scenery, architecture, and his own vehicle, that, if there was any sort of local press, would create so much havoc that the term "secret mission" would no longer apply. And, it's all for not, as Agent Wyatt, reaches out to the passing LaGrange and merely plucks her off her speeding motorcycle. Okay. So, (one may ask) why the carnage? These guys are talking to each other...why didn't someone just say..."You're strong. Grab her by the designer-label and yank her off her bike?"

Cut to: a book lecture. Author Ellie Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard) is finishing reading what we'd just seen to her rapt audience. They all applaud her awaiting her to sign her latest book, the fourth in her "Argyle" series about a fictional secret agent with a Dexter Poindexter hair-cut, who's big, strong, impossibly handsome and somehow does undercover work that nobody notices. Nobody brings up that point during her Q-and-A (maybe because screenwriter Jason Fuchs is moderating the talk).

But, after her talk she goes home to her cat, Alfie (director Matthew Vaughn's nepo-kitty, Chip), and her Argylle action figures and tries to write another chapter of her forthcoming book. But, she's stuck, so stuck that even the fantasy-Argylle in her imagination starts to get a little irritated with her. Phone-call to mother (Catherine O'Hara), who advises her that the manuscript to her latest book feels incomplete and she shouldn't end it with a cliff-hanger—why doesn't she come by for a visit and they can resolve it (Sure, that's what I always do when I'm stuck in writerly quick-sand!), and she takes a train—she hates to fly—to go visit.

She and the cat intend to spend an isolated train-trip while she researches, but the train compartment's a bit crowded—anyone wanting to take the seat across from her is rebuffed with a "someone's already sitting there." Except for this one guy (Sam Rockwell), who rather blithely sits across from her, irritates her cat (and her) and wants to make small talk. Elly nose-dives into her book and doesn't engage—he recognizes her and is a big fan of her work (swell!). But around the time she asks him what it is that he does for work—"Espionage" is his answer—she's approached by an autograph-seeker, whose pen sprouts a hypodermic needle and the guy, Aiden Wilde, takes the guy out with a few swift moves.

Aiden is not what he seems (nothing is, as we're to find out). Suddenly, everybody in the train compartment starts to attack Aiden trying to get to Elly. While she sits there, horrified—and imagining that it's her agent Argylle doing the fighting—he flails, kicks, somersaults, and uses everybody's weapons against them. This is some well-organized kidnapping that's been planned out—all those assassins with all those tickets—then, you'd think that they'd all rush at once instead of waiting until their turn at bat. And in the next car, is a bunch of guys with automatic weapons. Big automatic unconcealable weapons. Is Amtrak that lax? And is there no such thing as innocent by-standers in this movie?

Apparently not. Argylle is one of those spy-fantasy flicks along the lines of Flint, Matt Helm, Austin Powers and Vaughn's own "Kingsman" series, that make the Bond series look like "kitchen-sink" dramas. Things happen very fast so you don't have time to consider the lack of story-logic, gravity, mass, physics and the day-to-day realities of life and the Universe that would stop this movie cold if anybody in the audience raised their hand and said "Excuse me...that makes no sense." In Matthew Vaughn's universe, that audience member would instantly be executed (with colorful smoke!) by every other audience member.

It's eye-candy, not brain-candy. It's a comedy, not an adventure, or a thriller, or a mystery, or an espionage film, or a drama...or much of anything, really. One is never engaged in any means to an end because  It's designed that you sit back, relax, eat your pop-corn, and silence your brain along with your cell-phone (as a matter of fact, it's one of those movies that you could text, make a phone-call, play a game, and not miss a detail—nothing matters and anything might be contradicted fifteen minutes later). The Elly-fantasy sequences are just as realistic as the Elly-"reality" sequences, and if you have a memory retention of more than thirty seconds, you're going to get irritated. Enjoy the popcorn; it's much more substantial.

Great cast, though. John Cena knows how to play comedy merely by timing and not by expression, Bryce Dallas Howard's quite good for what she's been given to work with. Bryan Cranston knows what the material's worth and just chews, chews, chews, and Catherine O'Hara's a bit wasted. Henry Cavill...well...the man's a poser and one wonders how many of these things he's going to do before the internet just throws up their hands and says "James Bond? Anybody but him." The film is also a bit of a bait-and-switch as Cavill and Cena's screen-time amount to about twenty minutes of screen-time. "Such small portions." The film has something to disappoint everybody.

The one thing I clung to throughout the entire movie was Sam Rockwell. From the moment he shows up to the final frame, he's invested in his character and makes it work. Where many in the cast are posturing and playing over-the-top, Rockwell's off-the-cuff insouciance and embracing of the weird feels natural and oddly charismatic. It may be too much to say that Rockwell believes the performance and sells it his manic energy, but he provides a genuineness in something that feels so faked. The one thing you come away sure of after the movie is how damned talented Rockwell is. He's a treasure, worth far more than any plot McGuffin is worth.

Thinking about the movie too much depresses me, but if you want further thoughts—and a lively panel discussion—Argylle is the subject of Episode 721 of the Lambcast (I'm the one grumbling throughout).
 

The best part of the movie (aside from Sam Rockwell) is the trailer.  Here it is. Save yourself the trouble. 

Yeeeeaah...it isn't...and it won't.

"The Bigger the Lie," indeed.

Barbie

Barbie's Arch Support ("It's $well!")
 or

"Math is HARD! Let's Study Art as Social Commentary 101, Instead!"

 

When Greta Gerwig guested on NPR's "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me!" she was asked this by the host, Peter Sagal: "Do you know—one of the things that happens, it seems, is that young, talented independent directors who make a successful movie on a low budget are immediately handed enormous Hollywood blockbusters. Have you picked yours?"

 

"Oh!" she gasped."A Hollywood blockbuster? No, I have not picked my blockbuster yet. But, when I do...get ready..."

 

And here it is, Barbie, written (with Noah Baumbach) and directed by Gerwig, that seems to want to carry a lot of agendas on its plastic-ly arched foot. After all, the Barbara Millicent Roberts or "Barbie doll" has been around since 1959, "the first aspirational doll for girls" (says Barbie historian MG Lord, author of "Forever Barbie: The Unauthorized Biography of a Real Doll") "with—I search for euphemisms—the body of a German sex-worker."  Dolls were, to that point, mostly restricted to baby dolls—as the film wittily describes in its Kubrickian "Dawn of Barbie" prologue—relegating and regulating (grooming, shall we say?) the doll-owners to the role of motherhood which was what passed for ambition in a patriarchal society. But, Barbie changed all that, we are led to believe, because if Barbie could be anything (which she did after some entry level positions as a stewardess and such), women—monolithically—could also be anything. And have rad hair and clothes.

This is not much to base a movie on. And Barbie is, after all, merchandise. My prejudice—and I confess I went in prejudiced—was this: Barbie is as important to the art of cinema as the Transformers series is. As the recent Super Mario Brothers Movie is. As important as the Lego movies are. Bottom-line, it's the bottom-line: Selling product, and Barbie the movie will push kids pushing parents into the toy-aisles at far greater numbers then before its premiere.

Okay, it may do the latter, of course, but on the first point: Gerwig completely surprised me and up-ends the merchandising aspects. I knew she would not leave it at face value. I knew that there would be a satiric thrust to it ("Barbie now with 'satiric thrust' action!"), but, it could go in so many ways, one was hard-pressed to know what aspect of the Barbie-phenomenon it would choose to skewer (with the permission of the Mattel ™ and © owners, of course!).

I just didn't think it would satiric to the point of seditious, which I must confess warmed my guiltily paternalistic, capitalist-suspicious heart.

Narrator Helen Mirren explains things to us as she relates the relationship between the Real World and the Barbie Merchi-verse. In a sequence that compares to the morning rituals of Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, Barbie (Margot Robbie) wakes up perfectly in her Dream-House, takes a shower (there's no water, of course, as Dream-Houses didn't), mimes brushing her teeth, has a plasticized breakfast, dresses, and floats down to her car as if being carried by an invisible hand, to greet the day and the many varying Barbies, Skippers and Midge (the discontinued pregnant one), before spending the day at The Beach, where she plays with her friends, under the ever-watchful, ever-worshipful gaze of Ken (Ryan Gosling, in a lighter mood than of late), who, as they say, covets. He has no idea why as he's a toy and has no chromosomes or hormones.

After another in a perpetual string of "girls' nights", Barbie starts noticing that things aren't so perfect: she wakes up with morning breath, the water that still doesn't come out of the shower is cold, the plastic breakfast is burned, and when she steps off her balcony to get to her car, she lands with a splat. No broken parts or joints, but when she gets to the beach, things get really "off the shelf"--taking off her high heels, instead of remaining walking on tippy-toes, her HEELS touch the ground...she has FLAT FEET! 

What is happening? Barbie is supposedly perfect—she is, self-admittedly, "the original stereotypical Barbie"—and suddenly things are going wrong—"I feel sad, and mushy, and complicated"—and she even has thoughts about death. The other Barbies (and Kens) are totally grossed-out (totally!) and advise Barbie to go visit "Weird Barbie" (Kate McKinnon)—she's the one that was played with a little too hard and a little too long—because she's seen things...and she might know what is happening to our doll.

She does, of course, speculating that somehow a portal has opened up between Barbieland and the Real World*, and it has (no doubt) been caused by the Real World person playing with this Barbie, after all, "it takes two to rip a portal." Truer words were never said.

 

She sends Barbie on a mission to the Real World to find the little girl playing with her and existence as she knows it, and fix the rift, while also being showered with thanks by all those women who owe their wonderful lives to Barbie.

Oh, dear, this will not go well. And, she is figuratively and literally in for a world of hurt. To make matters worse, Ken has stowed-away in Barbie's C4 Barbie Corvette for the trip, although he doesn't know why, just that he has to, despite the fact that she is capable and talented and pretty enough to handle the assignment on her own. "You'll just slow me down!" she yells at Ken, without even bothering to mention that he might cause her to "settle" and derail a budding career in just about anything you can imagine for domestic bliss. Barbie's, after all, live in their own little world of accomplishment—and the movie makes the point that they don't even know where the Kens live.

But, it's a different story in The Real World, where men rule everything, can be anything they want—and women can be anything they want...at 60% the pay, and the thermostats in offices are always set for men's comfort, not women's. There's no day-care, and no parental leave, and, heck, women don't even have control of their own bodies in the eyes of the legal system, and heck, it's like they're just dolls whose job it is to please no matter the mood, and have no agency...and wait a minute, Barbie really IS in the real world! 

Okay. Enough of the scenario, you might know where this is going. It's a polemic on the aspirational aspects of Barbie's play-world and the ways it differs from the reality into which those playing children will grow up. It's a satire with one eye on the world of imagination and potential and what happens when play-time is over and responsibility and irresponsibility go hand-in-fist, and life is a lot less fun. Just as hedonistic and materialistic, sure, but a lot less fun.

Credit Gerwig and Baumbach for threading the needle to make this laugh-out-loud funny and entertaining, while also making it smart, and almost too smart. There's a lot of talk of existential crises, depression-era Barbies, and prescient flashbacks ("Remember 'Proust Barbie?' Didn't sell well!") that are going to sail right over kids' heads (and some adults'), but hits a lot of sophisticated points. It tells you the Barbie movie is more aspirational in its own goals than your standard kids' movie that gets by with Saturday morning "don't be mean" social lessons. Here, it skewers stereotypical patriarchy and male egotism--which will make some adults and Ron DeSantis squirm--but, the kids will like the bright colors and the fashions and the sparkling gayness of it all (which will also make DeSantis squirm) while the parents worry about questions they'll be asked later ("I'll tell ya when yer older!").

Hey, parents, be glad there's no mention of "Barbie-heads"!

In the same way that "Rocky and Bullwinkle" skewered the Cold War 1960's while mixing in the most childish of jokes,  Barbie treads (on tippy-toes!) the highly-charged issues of gender inequities and sexual politics in our "Old Man" Society, and doing it cheekily, with the knowledge that by aiming high, the kids will eventually catch up while giving the oldsters something to chew on during the ride home. Anyone wondering what audience the filmmakers were aiming for can be answered with the simple "Everyone...eventually."

And in so doing, it gives one more aspiration for little girls to fantasize about becoming: block-busting director.

Billie Eilish and Finneas do the final credits song and once again nail it.

Somehow...after the movie, that wink seems a lot more conspiratorial....

* I would point out that there is a natural barrier between Barbie-land and The Real World called the "checkout counter"...with uniformed guards!...but that would only complicate things in an already complicated scenario,