The Movie Warner Bros. Tried to Erase… Is Now a Global Release
The last time a studio buried a finished film like this, we were left digging through interviews and Reddit threads like media archaeologists. But Coyote vs. Acme—yes, that Looney Tunes courtroom comedy about Wile E. Coyote suing his longtime supplier—isn't staying buried. Not anymore.
Announced with bewildered delight at this year's San Diego Comic-Con, the film officially drops worldwide on August 28, 2026. Let that sink in. This movie, shelved in 2023 for a tax write-off (ah yes, the modern studio system: where art meets spreadsheet), is coming back from the dead thanks to indie outfit Ketchup Entertainment, who swooped in with a $50 million deal.
That panel at SDCC? Chaos. Actor Will Forte, practically vibrating with disbelief, broke the news himself. “The only reason this is happening is because people wouldn't shut up about it,” he said—laughing, eyes gleaming, half-joking, half-dead serious. The fans refused to let go. And now, neither can the studio system.
A $70M Casualty of Corporate Cold Feet
Let's rewind to the mess.
Warner Bros. shelved Coyote vs. Acme in late 2023, despite it being fully shot, edited, and reportedly testing extremely well with preview audiences. Why? For a tax write-off. Cold calculus, wrapped in a generic statement about “strategic realignment” or some other beige executive jargon.
That same year, we watched Batgirl vanish under similar circumstances. But Coyote vs. Acme? This one hit a nerve. Maybe it was the audacity of it—a Looney Tunes legal satire, fully cooked and just tossed in the bin. Maybe it was the premise: Wile E. Coyote, that eternal fail-son of the desert, finally suing Acme for their endless supply of malfunctioning gadgets. (Honestly, it tracks. Decades of crushed bones and unfulfilled rocket launches? That's a class-action if I've ever seen one.)

Enter Ketchup: The Indie Distributor with a Taste for Orphans
The hero here isn't a cape-wearing exec. It's Ketchup Entertainment, the scrappy distributor that already proved itself with The Day the Earth Blew Up, another WB orphan they salvaged. That film made $15 million worldwide—not blockbuster numbers, but solid proof there's an audience for these corporate castaways.
With Coyote vs. Acme, they're going bigger. Much bigger. $50 million for global rights says they're betting on the film's mythos, on fan loyalty, and on a healthy pinch of Looney Tunes nostalgia finally curdling into something weirdly timely.
Let's be honest—who doesn't want to see Wile E. Coyote finally get his day in court?
A Looney Tunes Movie That's Less Looney Than It Sounds
This isn't some slapdash gimmick. Behind the cartoon absurdity is a film with real creative pedigree. Directed by Dave Green (Earth to Echo), produced by the ever-reliable James Gunn, and featuring John Cena alongside Will Forte? That's a bizarre and brilliant cocktail. Think Who Framed Roger Rabbit meets Erin Brockovich, but with anvils.
The pitch—Coyote sues the Acme Corporation—is ludicrous, but oddly perfect. A workplace satire disguised as a cartoon caper. A slapstick post-mortem on capitalism and endless failure. Or maybe it's just a legal comedy where a mute desert mammal sues a supply company for maiming him repeatedly. Either way, I'm in.
And judging by the Comic-Con crowd? So were they.
The Cult That Wouldn't Let Go
Fan reactions after the shelving were ferocious. Think Change.org petitions, online sleuthing, test screening rumors, even leaks of concept art. In a world where attention is currency, Coyote vs. Acme refused to fade.
Which brings us to now—thirteen months from global release. Just enough time for a slow-burn marketing campaign, a strategic reintroduction, and (hopefully) a trailer that lands with all the manic energy of a dynamite-laced pogo stick.
So What Happens Next?
We wait. We speculate. And we probably meme it to death.
Will it be a lost classic, unfairly buried? Or just a bizarre footnote in the ongoing saga of studio self-sabotage? Either way, we finally get to watch it. On August 28, 2026, globally. No more rumors. No more locked vaults.
I've seen plenty of movies fumble in post, get chopped up in editing, or simply disappear because they didn't fit a brand's quarterly goals. But this—this is something else. It's a film that dodged oblivion with the same lunatic persistence as its main character.
Wile E. Coyote finally wins one.
