Director: Josh Greenbaum
Writer: Don Perrault
Stars: Will Ferrell, Jamie Foxx, Isla Fisher
Synopsis: An abandoned dog teams up with other strays to get revenge on his former owner.
Are we in the new golden age of the hard-R-rated summer comedy? From Jennifer Lawrence’s uproarious and raunchy No Hard Feelings to Adele Lim’s racy and hilarious Joy Ride, there has been a newfound wave of foul-mouthed comedies to enjoy. Some of these films’ best scenes would make Porky’s Bob Clark blush. This August, we have Strays, a hilarious comedy featuring some of the most adorable little dogs you’ll ever see and showcasing some of the dirtiest deeds in cinema history—all with an underlying theme that surprisingly hits home with that old cliché of a lot of heart. These super sweet yet seriously sour antics of these Strays are filled with filthy, gut-busting, leg-humping hilarity.
The story follows Reggie (Will Ferrell), a “woof”-fully optimistic mixed breed unaware of his toxic pet-owner relationship with Doug (Will Forte). Doug is the kind of lowlife who blames his substance abuse, laziness, and lousy situation on his dog. He repeatedly attempts to abandon Reggie in the middle of nowhere by throwing his tennis ball out of the truck and driving off while Reggie gives chase. However, Reggie interprets it as a game of “Fetch & F*ck” and always manages to bring the toy back to Doug’s feet, where he says the titular latter word.
Finally, Doug has had enough and takes Reggie into the ominous city, where he becomes acquainted with the freaks and geeks of the bustling city streets. Among them is a Boston Terrier with a gift of the gab named Bug (Jamie Foxx), who teaches Reggie how to survive on his own. Bug introduces Reggie to more stray dogs like Maggie (Isla Fisher), an Australian Shepherd, and Hunter (Randall Park), an enormous Great Dane with a small dick energy despite the obvious heat he’s packing. The sexual tension between Maggie and Hunter is undeniable. Finally realizing Doug doesn’t care about him, the group embarks on a road trip to visit Doug so Reggie can, in his own words, “Bite his dick off.” Yes, like I said, a foul-mouthed comedy.
Written by Dan Perrault and directed by Josh Greenbaum, Strays has a big, ferocious bite that most comedies can only dream of. The film features dirty yet heartfelt and outrageously funny debauchery from some of the most adorable pooches you will ever see. Strays can be seen as a loquacious take on Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey, but with abundant sex, copious amounts of drugs, and free-flowing alcohol. Given Hollywood’s penchant for transforming simple stories into unnecessarily sentimental narratives — a phenomenon that might soon be dubbed “The Tuohy Effect” — it’s almost as if Strays presents what the 1993 family film was truly like before the greedy little money-grubbing mouse got his hands on the script.
Part of the fun of what makes Strays so funny is watching the juxtaposition of these hellhounds, equipped with heart-swelling puppy love expressions, doing bad things—very bad things. Almost every joke works famously, from a jaw-dropping camp-side “pillow” fight to a priceless and well-timed Miley Cyrus needle drop and a wicked take on Marley & Me. And the ones that don’t land are so audacious and bold that you forgive Greenbaum and Perrault solely because of their effort.
Much of the credit should go to Ferrell and Fox, whose styles seemingly shouldn’t blend but create a joyous combination of sweet and sour. Ferrell dives back into that Elf persona with a humorous, deadpan, and naïve delivery. This allows Fox’s garrulous and spunky Boston Terrier to steal nearly every scene he’s in. Delivering humor while also conveying the film’s sharp wit and an insightful take on male toxicity, Bug’s spin-off isn’t just a request but a matter of time. You’ll also appreciate the humor generated from Park’s Hunter and Fisher’s Maggie for their numerous risqué and suggestive double entendres.
Frankly, Strays reminds me of the type of comedy The Farrelly Brothers used to make in the 90s. Similar to those movies, they had an underlying human (work with me here) element. Here, Perrault finds something sobering regarding victimization in a surprisingly profound scene when Reggie convinces himself that Doug loves him. Yes, it involves a mutt with a tennis ball, but that moment reveals more about the catch-22 in domestic violence, and is more insightful than most films.
Ultimately, Reggie carrying Doug’s blame-shifting leads to Greenbaum’s canine opus—a relatable sense of community, family, and finding your place in life—which still supports the film’s hard comedic edge. Sure, it may not make sense why Hunter has a medical cone if he’s a stray or that Doug is such an over-the-top deadbeat that no woman in her right mind would have him, let alone for one night. However, Strays is damn funny and pushes the envelope farther than I thought possible.
Strays is a loquacious Homeward Bound and the super sweet yet seriously sour antics of these pooches are filled with filthy, gut-busting, leg-humping hilarity.
