At least nobody is turning Bugs Bunny into a baby this time.
That happened several years ago on Baby Looney Tunes--an idea only slightly better than bringing Shirley Temple back as an old woman whose gout acts up.
In The Looney Tunes Show, the perennial pop-culture icons have moved to a subdivision. Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, no longer adversaries, are roommates. The show is about universal situations--like text messaging or going to a high-school reunion.
People are protective of the original Looney Tunes legacy. Any deviations invite denunciations and disgust, but it's odd to impose purist rules on talking animals that get blown up and then recover by shaking off the soot. And where do these unemployed beasts get the money to buy Acme missiles? Basically, they're terrorists with no regard for rudimentary laws of physics. They've even played basketball in space with Michael Jordan.
In the 1940s, Bugs Bunny was a violent, cross-dressing, suicidal, marginally racist drunk. The Looney Tunes Show could have logically updated him as a devil-worshiping meth dealer but that would've bothered some people. The timid, new version is like playing pool with a teetotaler. Also, for some reason, instead of gray, he's purple.
The thing about the original cartoons is that they existed prior to modern irritants. Now, Yosemite Sam is a goddamn rapper. It makes you want to drop an anvil on his head.