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?’" 

 

Captain America: Brave New World

Re-Heated Leftovers

or

The President's a Red Hulking Jerk (So What Else is New?)
 

The new Captain America movie—Captain America: Brave New World—has been the #1 movie of the past three weekends, so it was about time I checked it out. It's the first new "Cap" movie with the retirement of the Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) character in Avengers: Endgame, and after a Disney+ series try-out, Anthony Mackie gets to stop being called The Falcon and being called Captain America in an actual movie from Marvel Studios. 

 

Too bad he feels like a co-star in his own movie, as the character flails around trying to solve a government conspiracy involving the big dump of adamantium that's been sitting in the Indian Ocean since The Eternals (and that was—what?—four years ago?), while at the same time a villain from the past (2008, specifically, but from another Marvel movie series from a previous studio), who has supposedly been rotting in a secure jail-cell somewhere apparently isn't and has his own plans for—muah-ha-ha—revenge. Already the "Brave New World" title of the movie feels like a stretch as it seems to be recycling old dangling plot-threads from the less-than-successful Marvel movies of the past.

And speaking of recycling, Harrison Ford takes over for the late William Hurt (who took over from Sam Elliott) playing General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross, who has previously been a thorn in The Avengers' boots and has parlayed that into becoming President of the United States (Ford is President again? Man, we ARE recycling). And as much as Ford tends to dominate the proceedings of the film, he overshadows Mackie's Sam Wilson/Cap and (I think) to the film's detriment.

So, the film begins after the events of "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier" (which I never saw, but it apparently doesn't matter much) where Cap and the new Falcon, Joaquin Torres (Danny Ramirez) take part in an undercover operation in Mexico to stop a mercenary named Sidewinder (Giancarlo Esposito), who works for "Serpent" guess they're bad guys—to recover some MacGuffin (which turns out to be refined adamantium that the Japanese government had secured from that Eternals thing which has now been called "Celestial Island"). Don't worry if all of that sounds new, because it is, and no, you haven't missed anything.

Anyway, mission accomplished with the help of Cap's new, improved vibranium-infused wings from Wakanda and a lot of gee-whizardry. Despite doing well in Mexico, Cap insists that Torres train with one of America's super-soldiers, one Isaiah Bradley (Carl Lumbly, always enjoyable), who was introduced in the Disney+ series. Long story short, he was a super-soldier in Korea, but had been imprisoned by the government for the past 30 years...but isn't now. Cool.

After the successful mission, everybody gets invited to the White House to meet the President (both the U.S. and Japanese variety), but while Ross is giving a presentation on how the world should be safe-guarding and sharing adamantium for the world's benefit (unlike those Wakandans!) and doing one of those "it's-for-your-own-good" speeches that American Presidents do, phones start erupting with a song by The Fleetwoods, which turns some in the audience—including Bradley—into "attack" mode (actually, The Fleetwoods aren't that bad!) and they start firing on the President. A big melee happens and Bradley is taken into custody even though he can't remember anything about trying to shoot the President. It's back to prison for Bradley, and Cap is on the "outs" with Ross because Cap's friend tried to shoot him.

Anyway, you get the gist. An international plot (that may involve World War III!) with personal repercussions for our Captain, and it just gets so complicated with mind-controlling cell-phones, nobody trusting anybody, Ross' potential heart-problems, on top of the lamest of character motivations at this late date—how  now-President Ross feels so bad that he's estranged from his daughter Betty (Liv Tyler) because he tried to kill her ex-boyfriend, Bruce Banner, The Hulk (back before he was Mark Ruffalo) making everything a bit of a mish-mash.

That last bit—the daughter thing—undercuts the movie quite a lot, and although Ford plays it gamely, it's a bit of weak tea for motivation, especially given the higher stakes globally, and finally makes President Ross a bit of a lame character, where his ambitions as President pale to his "just wanting to get along" with his own kid. If it was really such a big deal as the movie makes it out to be, it wouldn't be resolved so soporifically as it is in the movie.

But what am I complaining about, nobody cares much for all that thin "character stuff," as what they really want to see is Ross turn into The Red Hulk because it's promised in the poster and the previews. Given the character's history with the Green Hulk, this is irony with a capital SMASH! and, frankly, has nothing to do with the rest of the movie other than that the same bad guy responsible for all the mind-controlling has been setting up the Third Act Hulkitude as well, just so that...Ross can look bad in front of his daughter, frustrating him into full chili-pepper berserker mode. Oh, and cause all sorts of damage to prominent monuments...and cherry trees.

One senses in that final Cap vs. Red Hulk confrontation that a lot of screenplay back-filling was done in order to bring it about (there are five credited screenwriters), but even given the cheesiness that goes into a lot of the funny-book verisimilitude, the  efforts here strain the goodwill needed in order to accept it. I mean I know it's based on comic books and superheroes, but it takes a Hulk-style leap of faith to accept the ways and means it takes to get there. It takes a lot of the geek-fun out of it to know you're being played. Still, it IS good to see Tim Blake Nelson come back. He's a good actor, a good director, and a heck of a nice guy. He plays evil good, too. But, just as he was ill-served in The Incredible Hulk movie so many years back, he's ill-served by this one, too.

So, it's disappointing, especially because it's Anthony Mackie's first Captain America movie and I've always liked him. And because...legacy. Of all the Marvel properties, the Captain America series was the last of the "majors" to come out before the first "Avengers" movie, and the studio managed to work with its old-fashioned and, frankly, jingoistic tendencies and make it work well. In fact, they did their job so well that the Captain America series was the one trilogy of movies in the Marvel stable that didn't falter in any of its three films. 

 

Now, it has. And that leaves me feeling a bit sad...and disappointed.

A Complete Unknown (2024)

How Does It Feeeeeeeeeel?
or

The Freewheelin' (Inscrutable) Bob Dylan

 

"Seven simple rules of going into hiding: one, never trust a cop in a raincoat. Two, beware of enthusiasm and of love, both are temporary and quick to sway. Three, if asked if you care about the world's problems, look deep into the eyes of he who asks, he will never ask you again. Four, never give your real name. Five, if ever asked to look at yourself, don't. Six, never do anything the person standing in front of you cannot understand. And finally, seven, never create anything--it will be misinterpreted, it will chain you and follow you for the rest of your life."

Bob Dylan

 

Musicians performing on-stage use something called "foldback speakers" so that they can hear themselves accurately against the wash of sound coming from auditorium reverberation or the cacophony of crowd noise fighting against them—modern musicians use ear-buds to have their music pumped backed to them without any deleterious feed-back from similar music sources competing. 

 

That little bit of insider trivia is what I was thinking about walking out of A Complete Unknown, the new bio-pic of a slice of Bob Dylan's life as he was becoming more known and making a name (and history) for himself prowling around the Greenwich Village clubs, riding a burgeoning folk-music wave and expanding the subject matter of the genre like his heroes, Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger into advocacy-folk or what would become known as "protest songs," which formed the soundtrack of the youth movement of the early 1960's.

 

Dylan has been mixed up with movies before—the documentary Bob Dylan: Don't Look Back, various music videos, he wrote the music for and played in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, wrote and starred in Masked and Anonymous, and Renaldo and Clara, and although not mentioned by name is seen through a prism of stories and interpreters in I'm Not There.

Well, this one has his seal of approval, sticks to one actor as Dylan, and covers January 24, 1961 to July 25, 1965 (when Dylan first arrived in New York City at the age of 19 to his controversial performance set at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival). And it does a pretty good job of clearing away all the myths about Bob Dylan, his absences from the public eye (hard to believe these days, he's even done commercials), his changing personas more than Madonna or Bono, and just concentrates on that initial section where he became a performer, then The Brand New Thing, then The Highly Exploitable Thing, to The Voice of His Generation, all the while navigating the rigors of performing, the inanities of being a product, and the desire to start breaking things and doing something fresh.

Frankly, that's enough. It was never his mission to be understood, and the movie never tries to psychoanalyze or explain his actions, but merely the context into which he arrived and the way things changed once he started performing. He came in with talent and a poet's way of putting thoughts into words in a way no one had ever done before, inspired by folk music and its tendency towards metaphor. 

That is immediately recognized by practitioners of the art—Pete Seeger (Edward Norton, wonderfully essaying the man as appeaser rather than rebel) and a hospitalized-by-Huntington's Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy, in a non-verbal performance), and he is promoted, signed by a label (Dan Fogler plays Columbia A & R guy Albert Grossman), and starts playing bigger venues, all the while already established folkies like Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro) start interpreting his material for the mainstream. The maxim is "it's the singer, not the song" but Dylan's "voice" (as far as his writing) was so distinct, he bobbed up through the commercialization as the Genuine Article quickly and, with his ungussied-up vocal stylings, bereft of soothing harmonies and homogenizing orchestrations.

So...back to that foldback speaker: Imagine you're putting yourself out there, performance after performance, and you're leading the field. Then, you start hearing yourself over and over again and not necessarily your voice. People are singing your songs, and then imitating your songs—Pete Seeger's "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" begets your "Blowin' In The Wind" and then that begets Phil Ochs' "There But For Fortune"—or imitating your composing-process, and then parroting and parodying your songs and then you're suddenly surrounded by the newest versions of "you" while (as movie-Dylan gripes) "you just want me singing 'Blowin' In The Wind' solo for the rest of my life." It's stifling. It's maddening. It makes you want a change.

But, that's not what your label wants. It's not what your manager wants. It's not what your fans want. They want the rebellion and the "new" sound to be what they're comfortable with...or what they're making money with. You want to create. They want to cash in. Or get their comforting nostalgia. No one gets it.

But it gets creepy. There's a scene in Don't Look Back where Dylan is talking to a fan and the exchange is this:

Fan: I just don't like any of the "Subterranean Homesick Blues" stuff. 

Bob Dylan: Oh, you're that kind - I understand, right now. 

Fan: It's not you. It doesn't sound like you at all! 

Bob Dylan: But, my friends, my friends were playing with me on that song. You know, I have to give some work to my friends too. I mean, you don't mind that, right? Huh? You don't mind them playing with me if they play the guitar and drums and all that stuff, right?

Fan: It just doesn't sound like you at all. It sounds like you're having a good ole laugh. 

Bob Dylan: Well, don't you like to have a good ole laugh once in awhile? Isn't that all right with you?

 

"That's not you." How the "homesick blues" does he know? Because he attended a concert? Because he bought himself a record? It's no wonder that at one point Dylan just blurted "Just because you like my stuff doesn't mean I owe you anything." See it as ingratitude if you must or see it as not "playing the game" but "you gotta do you" because "you" is what got you there in the first place. All artists go through this. Some have even rebelled. Some have got away with it. Some have not. Some have walked the tight-rope of practicality where you're either an "artist" or you pay the bills (you know...like we non-artists do).

A Complete Unknown is wonderful in every way for putting you not in Dylan's head but in his head-space. And if the man is still an enigma after you see it, you can, at least, understand why. If I have anything negative to say about it, it's that Ricky Nelson said the same thing in just over three minutes.* That's efficient.

Now, I've gotta pay the bills, do what's expected of me: how is Chalamet? Spot on. Pretty amazing, actually, but I've never ever been disappointed by a Chalamet performance. Of course, he's prettier than Dylan, but, like Joaquin Phoenix did with Johnny Cash in director Mangold's previous music bio-pic I Walk the Line, he suggests Dylan rather than does a full-on imitation. He has a less-is-more approach which is entirely appropriate for the subject, but there's a nice touch that he brings to his Dylan which is lovely—a defiant, almost predatory stare, observing, analyzing, like a biding-his-time hawk. And, considering his vocal talents in Wonka, of course he can do a dead-on imitation of Dylan's singing style. You have to listen very closely to tell the difference between Chalamet's versions of Dylan's songs and the memories of the real deal.

I mean, the real "real deal."

"I'm not angry. I'm delightful."

Bob Dylan 

*