Right off, I have to explain why I've given this film ten stars.
Bad films are something of an art form in themselves. Think Ed Wood, think Brian DePalma (come on... be honest, he s*cks, and you know it.) Play Dead has no pretensions. It knows it's a pile of crap, and it revels in it (in as much as a film can do anything more than just exist, but bear with me, I've got this theory...) Look, the dog, while a bit underbitten and mopish looking, just excludes sweetness. She's a Serious Canine Actress, and a God Dog, and she's trying -- for God's sake. Can't say much for Lily Munster though, except, for a husky old broad, she still looks pretty good.
Come on -- it's a film about a Satan-inspired Rottweiler serial killer, what did you expect? Straw Dogs? Mystic River? Hell Comes to Frog Town? Hand me another Heinekin and I'll shut up, serious.
And come on -- the dog was cute.
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