COYOTE V. ACME (B-minus) - In the annals of New Yorker humor, Ian Frazier's comic essay "Coyote v. Acme" is still one of the funniest ever published. It takes the form of an opening statement to the court from Wile E. Coyote's attorney in a products-liability suit against Acme Corp. "for personal injuries, loss of business income, and mental suffering caused as a direct result of the actions and/or gross negligence of said company." Among the injuries were those stemming from allegedly faulty spring-powered shoes and a "sequence of collisions" that left the plaintiff with "a rare and painful condition which caused Mr. Coyote to expand upward and contract downward alternately as he walked, and to emit an off-key accordionlike wheezing with every step," creating "a major impediment to Mr. Coyote's pursuit of a normal social life."
Decades later, a bunch of rascals, including "Guardians of the Galaxy" ringer James Gunn and screenwriter Sammy Burch ("May December," "Late Fame"), have expanded the story into a full-length movie -- part live action, part animation, like "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" -- that chronicles the legal odyssey of Wile E. Coyote and his Albuquerque attorney Kevin Avery (Will Forte) as they do battle against the evil Acme corporation, represented by Buddy Crane (John Cena). Avery is intent on blowing the lid off of a far-reaching conspiracy, even if it bankrupts his law practice.
It is all as silly and reductive as you'd expect, though it does have a certain sophistication to it (and a fondness for Albuquerque, where it was shot), and the Warner Bros. cachet allows for cameos from a cavalcade of Looney Tunes legends, like Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Tweety Bird and Foghorn Leghorn (the Acme CEO, it turns out), all voiced by Mel Blanc's successor, Eric Bauza. Forte is a serviceable vehicle for the role of attorney, but the "Saturday Night Live" veteran is no leading man on the big screen. Bugs Bunny himself shows up for a much-appreciated cameo. The script is rife with callbacks and in-jokes.
The one-liners and puns can be fun, though too many have the subtlety of a plunging anvil. The plot chugs along, and Gunn, Burch and a third writer know their way around a narrative arc. It is a classic underdog story, a tale of good vs. evil, even heart-warming at times. Forte gets an assist from Paige Avery as his eager-beaver niece with a legal education and Martha Kelly (TV's "Baskets") as a legal assistant. Cena, though, is painfully not funny; it's not a fatal flaw.
The film itself represents an underdog saga (Warner Bros. canned it a few years ago for the tax write-off before Ketchup Entertainment resurrected it), and it is enjoying a good run in theaters. It is 103 minutes of lightweight entertainment that went down easy at a $7 screening during a summer matinee.
CHOP & STEELE (2023) (B+) - Childhood friends Joe Picket and Nick Prueher have the natural comedic rapport of lifelong buddies, and their history of pranks (mostly at the expense of local TV morning shows) gets an airing in this documentary that highlights their legal battle with station owners who couldn't take a joke.
Pickett and Prueher are more widely known for their extraordinary collection of vintage VHS tapes full of cheesy video clips that form the basis for their "Found Footage Festival," which they regularly tour to arthouse cinemas around the country. Early in their career, they realized how easy it is to prank gullible local television news crews who are desperate for content and not so diligent in vetting their subjects. (Morning hosts also are loath to pull the plug on even the most incompetent of home demonstrations.)
The pair recruited a friend to pose as a yo-yo champion who turned out to be comically inept at manipulating the child's toy. They soon hit on the idea of presenting themselves as "strong-men," when they obviously were mere ordinary goofballs. Their goofy made-up exercises are as funny as they are stupid, especially when the routines pass unchecked by the TV hosts. The bit culminates in an appearance on "America's Got Talent," where the duo hatch a plot to take the bit up a notch on national television. (Props to Howie Mandel for showing up hear and dishing respect to the amateurish provocateurs.) Members of the Yes Men, who are more well known fellow travelers, also weigh in with their own hat-tips, as do veteran comedy insurgents David Cross and Bobcat Goldthwait.
Directors Berndt Mader and Ben Steinbauer, with writer Alex MacKenzie, spend several years with the duo, through their COVID estrangement, and develop a well-rounded profile of a couple of ordinary guys driven by a burning ambition, a true devotion to their long-running shtick. A key hook in the film chronicles the lawsuit brought by one TV station's parent company against Pickett and Prueher, with an amusing focus on clips from their depositions, in which they match wits with overly serious opposing lawyers. The production team also delves into the holy grail of found footage -- a 1980s industrial training film for McDonald's workers, the unintentionally hilarious video that first inspired the impressionable young men.
Throughout, there is an appealing appreciation for the skewed comedy stylings of a couple of rather ordinary guys. It helps to have Pickett's wife, Albertino Rizzo, as a control element in this experiment, providing perspective and insight into both men, and why she still puts up with the one she married. (When one of his ideas is picked up by the TV series "The Office," Pickett declines an offer to join the writing staff, because he's just not into the show.) It's a feel-good movie that provides a healthy dose of escapism at a welcome time.
BONUS TRACKS
Over the credits of "Coyote v. Acme" the Clash tearin' up Sonny Curtis' "I Fought the Law":
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