This movie was almost fixed to be without a home. Originally set to be released in theaters by Warner Bros. Discovery – and notably Genndy Tartakovsky’s first adult animated film – the result of a metaphorical money bulldozer left it snipped from release before Netflix swooped in to save the day. A raunchy trailer full of dogs’ favorite bodily functions left a bad taste in many potential viewers’ mouths – but is there more to chew on here beyond the first sniff?
Bull is a spoiled terrier who has grown too big for his britches – so big, in fact, that his owners have decided it’s time for him to say goodbye to the baby factory, for the sake of his elderly nana’s leg. There’s one big opportunity Bull’s about to miss – his pining for the fancy neighbor dog Honey, leagues above him, and still gives him the time of day and the possibility of what if. Time is running out for Bull’s intactness – will he be able to get the girl and keep his manhood, or is it just a matter of time until he heads back into the park with a cone of shame?
As one could expect from the premise and MPAA rating, there’s nonstop crude humor from about two minutes in through the credits of Fixed. It’s quite a bit different from what animation fans have grown to expect from Genndy Tartakovsky. While not afraid to draw a woman with hips or even an entire infamous ‘booty quake’ sequence, there is an almost concerningly loving detail brought to dogs’ backsides and genitals here. It’s easy to draw comparisons to Sausage Party here, but there is something distinctly different about Fixed which makes it a bit easier to sit through. It could be that the dogs have far more likable personalities – they’re not as immediately crude and hateful to one another as Sausage Party frequently drags out. The humor is crude and often focused on bodily functions, but it isn’t offensive in any other way, other than an unfortunate gag made of male-on-male sexual violence that was more common in comedies twenty years prior. Still, some of the swearing definitely feels like it’s there to have a cartoon animal swear, with most people with an Internet connection have probably gotten their fair share of over the years.
It’s also plain easier to look at than Sausage Party. Even the most vocal critics of the film’s vulgarity have to admit Genndy sticking to his guns for hand-drawn animation makes it one of the best uses of 2D animation in recent memory…even if they don’t always enjoy what they’re looking at. Funny enough, despite its subject matter, it actually looks less like furry bait than your average children’s movie nowadays – an easy comparison could be drawn to the style of Ren and Stimpy’s golden years.
Underneath the doggy debauchery, there are some genuinely heartwarming moments in the movie. Bull, initially concerned only about the loss of his testicles, realizes how important Honey is to him and runs to tell her how he feels. During a brief detour to the dog strip club (because of course there is one), Bull’s friend Lucky becomes infatuated with a dog named Frankie, who reveals to him that they are intersex. While this results in more expected crude gags, it doesn’t feel disrespectful to Frankie’s identity in any way – in fact, becoming a part of Lucky discovering himself. When the gang finally splits up, Lucky tells Bull, “Frankie is my Honey.”, and the story thankfully suggests a happy ending for the pair that could’ve easily been a throwaway gag in poor taste.
There’s also more to Honey’s character than being the object of Bull’s desire – as a show dog, she’s expected to breed to her lineage and have a higher standard for being “the best dog,” something that Bull points out to her is nonsensical. Why do random humans get to decide what makes the best dog? If everyone is the same, can that really be considered the best? Despite her willingness to go along and be the ‘best’, Honey isn’t able to fit in with a normal clique of show dogs because she’s not a snob. She doesn’t think her breed or the shininess of her coat make her better than anyone else – in fact, they often send her the opposite message, that she’s not good enough to be a showdog. Her friendship with Bull always feels natural, with the bit of irony that neither one of them feels confident enough in themselves to confess how they feel. While their progressing romance pretty much follows all the story beats you would expect, it’s still enjoyable to watch the pair develop and finally spill out their true feelings for one another.
Overall, if the idea of dogs talking about humping their grandmas or disguising their enjoyment of cat poop sounds like it crosses a line for you, Fixed isn’t going to offer much to change that. Yet, compared to the often low effort of these raunchfests, Genndy offers a few genuine moments of heart that bring more to the table than just scatological excess, and the film’s hand-drawn style lends to its authentic feel. For anyone with a juvenile sense of humor, Fixed may prove well worth their while.
Fixed is available for streaming on Netflix.
