Sleeping Dogs

Everyone has done something they’re not proud of - shoplifting sweets, swapping a family heirloom for a Gameboy, burning down the house while drunk... but fellating Fido?

That’s the moment of madness which has haunted schoolteacher Amy (Hamilton) since her student days. She’s never told a soul, but when her devoted boyfriend John (Johnson) pops the question, she feels it’s time to – ahem - come clean.

But first, John has to meet her family: conservative Dad, proud Mum and resentful junkie brother Doug (Jason Plotnik).

Spurred on by the revelation that Mum once ‘performed’ for both Elvis and Roy Orbison, Amy tells John her terrible secret. As tests of love go, this one is an absolute doozy.

Don’t be fooled by the cringe-making premise – Sleeping Dogs has more in common with unpolished indie gems ,i>Junebug and Transamerica than the slick and slippery gross-out antics of American Pie.

It’s actually as sweet as pie. And a little bit sad.

Director Goldthwait (better known as the unintelligible loon from the Police Academy movies) wisely downplays the ‘Eeuw!’ factor to offer credible musings on love, forgiveness and human weakness.

Nobody’s perfect. But the endearing performances of the butter-wouldn’t-melt Hamilton (another slip of the halo for the naughty nun of Desperate Housewives) and Colby French as her honesty-advocating confidant are close enough.

Here’s a film proving that curiosity killed the cat... which is always good news for the dog.

Elliott Noble