It’s impressive how a blundering, bird-hating beast like Wile E. Coyote has somehow become a sort of cartoon underdog.

What’s even more impressive is the similar dark-horse status of the terrific new movie featuring that unkillable canine and his road-running nemesis.

Indeed, Warner Bros. was so skeptical about Coyote vs. Acme that they tried to deep-six it and take a tax write-off. Instead, after a grass-roots campaign by filmmakers, fans and social-media posters, WB finally sold it to Ketchup Entertainment for a summer 2026 release.

The result: at Rotten Tomatoes, a whopping 96 & 95 rating (from critics and viewers).

A bracing blend of live-action and animation, the film is loosely based on a facetious New Yorker article in which the long-suffering Coyote sues Acme because their devices have failed him with such bone-rattling consistency (falling anvils, rocket shoes, catapults, etc.). So, he hires an Albuquerque law firm called Avery, Jones & Maltese, which itself proves a bit of an underdog against a massive conglomerate that makes everything from perfume to paint to dehydrated boulders.

The first thing this film gets right is nostalgia. It is peppered with virtually every Looney Tunes character, including Daffy, Porky, Foghorn and Tweety, along with such lesser-knowns as Witch Hazel, Charlie Dog and Gossamer — that furry orange monster with tennis shoes and no nose.

(Virtually absent are WB’s “most-likely-to-be-canceled”: Speedy Gonzales — no doubt guilty of racial stereotyping — and of course Monsieur Le Pew, who has, shall we say, problems with consent.)

The amazing Eric Bauza voices nearly all the male cartoon characters, managing to recapture that Mel Blanc magic with mesmerizing perfection.

The movie also features clips from original Coyote cartoons, plus a bunch of in-jokes — like the law firm’s name, which pays homage to three long-ago Looney Tunes legends: Tex Avery, Chuck Jones and Michael Maltese. Or take the film’s locale, which plays on Bugs Bunny’s famous wrong turns underground.

(Speaking of which: My personal favorite in-joke is a blink-and-you-miss-it shot of Albuquerque’s commuter rail, which is actually called Rail Runner — and features a handsome bird on its engines.)

The film moves fast and is also very funny. Among the great gags is an answering machine at AJ&M, which generally works with animated plaintiffs: “If you’ve been hit by a falling anvil, press 1” — plus other options for catapults and plummeting pianos, etc.

But the movie’s greatest strength is its plot. The writers have a good hook in their canine lawsuit; but then they actually go somewhere with it, as the firm is guilty of much more than just faulty products. And on top of that, Coyote vs. Acme ultimately winds up pulling your heartstrings, as the chief attorney and his conniving client finally make peace; and then … well, I won’t reveal what happens at the end in Washington, DC — except to say that it’s not hard to foresee, yet totally counterintuitive.

So the film winds up being both nostalgic and modern, funny but heart-felt and farcical yet character-driven.

Sadly, it is not making a ton of money, and might disappear from theaters by the time you read this. Which is puzzling.

Like those who campaigned for its release, I tawt I taw a pwetty dood movie.