It’s a wonderful thing that we have found ourselves in the age of disclosure, and we have been getting some great UFO content because of it the last few years. Any of James Fox’s films are thoroughly enjoyable if you’re into Brazilian conspiracies and commendable legwork, S4: The Bob Lazar story is fantastic if you’re looking for fresh info an old legend, there are numerous sources of quality alientainment out there, even YouTube has a pretty impressive range of fringe-theory films, some of which are honestly quite well-made.
With that being said, let me tell you right now, if you find yourself tempted to watch, or even worse, pay for, Sleeping Dog, please, just let it lie.
I had zero confidence in the piece, but felt like I should give it a shot.
It is money and time that I am never going to get back, and I don’t want you to share the same fate. Make no mistake about it, this is NOT a film about UFOs or disclosure, even though it claims to be.
Sleeping Dog is one of the most vain, self-masturbatory and shallow ‘documentaries’ I have ever seen, by a very large margin.
I should have turned it off when Jeremy Corbell’s mother, the only person actually willing to be interviewed for the film, within the first 10 minutes, ‘casually mentions’ how impressed she is with her son’s ‘weaponised’ curiosity.
What is it with this guy? It’s like he can’t open his mouth without the word ‘weaponised’ falling out of it. Until now, I had always just considered it an annoying quality and a very see-through attempt to subliminally market his brand, but after watching Sleeping Dog I am earnestly concerned about his mental wellbeing.
Let me elaborate.
Rather than presenting any rational chain of thought, investigation, plot or….anything really, Sleeping Dog makes the questionable decision to spend the bulk of their ‘documentary’ with Jeremy, sitting in a living-room that looks like an adult version of teen boys bedroom, with an adult version of one of those bunkbeds that has a little pretend office underneath, rambling. Rambling and cussing and acting real cool-like.
I refuse to go back and waste my eyes on it to check, but I would estimate about the first 50 minutes of the film are literally just the grandiose mythos of Jeremy being milked right down the lens. There are some very cliche, edgy, ‘finals project’ angles and derivative camerawork that solidify the vibe of a high-school pissing contest to go with it.
90% of the scenes in this film seem like Jeremy just going about his daily life, if not a bit theatrically, with a UHD camera, stopping every five minutes to film himself doing some menial, masculine-coded task, like drinking a beer, fixing a shelf, drinking a beer, talking to the mailman while drinking a beer. The amount of ‘jarring angles with beer’ both add to the effect of Jeremy being portrayed as some kind of frat-chad renaissance man and make me willing to bet there was some kind of sponsorship going on there.
First, Jeremy tells us about his life as a martial athlete and instructor in whatever the fuck ‘Warrior Yoga’ is, then he goes on to tell the viewers about his time travelling the world, or how he went on to become an accidental artist, then a realtor, then eventually an accidental journalist.
This takes a great deal of time, before he moves on to talk about getting his start in the world of UFO’s by essentially harassing people like John Lear and George Knapp until they spoke to him.
In this segment of the film, we are treated to quite a length of footage shot by Jeremy, very early in his career, with the late John Lear.
This entire part of the film feels like Jeremy was trying to add ‘Louis Theroux’ to his very extensive resume at that point of his career, because it holds essentially nothing about the state of modern disclosure, or even new revelations about old discourse. It is just footage of an old guy, smoking cigars and making wild claims, while cutting to Jeremy in his bedroom in the present day every few minutes, talking shit about John Lear.
It is bizarre, to be honest.
There are parts of the film where the viewer is shown clips from other documentaries and interviews that hold some relevance, but it is literally just B-reels from stuff he has worked on and has very little value in the way it is presented.
The whole thing just feels like some kind of manifesto, or the catastrophic results of a weaponised ego.
There are many, many, many, many times over Sleeping Dog that Jeremy alludes to having some kind of secret, he hints at having some nuclear bomb of knowledge every 11 minutes.
He even goes so far as to call Bob Lazar, who is arguably the only reason anyone even knows who Jeremy Corbell is, while hanging out in the desert at night, for dramatic reasons, to tell Bob that he knew his story was true the whole time.
He, Jeremy Corbell, Him, had known all along, but he couldnt say how because it was too dangerous. He also never brought it up until he started shooting this film because ‘he had to confirm something’ first.
This premise is essentially the entire crux of the film, Jeremy’s claim that he has known the truth about EVERYTHING, the entire time, and he could prove it if he wanted to.
Jeremy spends the entire film playing this ‘Will I, wont I?’ game with the audience, while talking about himself, and all his hobbies, showing footage of John Lear using him for cigars, or things we’ve seen before.
After an hour or so of Jeremy painting himself as some kind of tortured genius, accidental journalist, super-secret-squirrel-spook, angry bad-ass thats ready to drop a bomb on disclosure because he’s had enough of all the bullshit, he gets real mad by a firepit.
Then, in the culmination of the film, we see Jeremy driving out into the desert, and grabbing a shovel out of his Cyber-truck (of course) and walking (I shit you not) about 8 feet away from the road into the desert. Awful, lazy place for a secret cache, c’mon man.
Anyway, after much too long of Jeremy digging up a box, then squirrelling himself away to a secret spot, it seems like he is really about to pull something crazy out of his pocket, but of course… he doesn’t.
He shows the viewers a video he released a year or two ago, the same video that got him in hot water because it was ‘enhanced’ by AI.
After this wet fart of a big reveal, Jeremy makes another.
He tells the viewer, that he knows everything is true because someone that loved him as a person (?) had told him something that confirmed it a long time ago.
He doesn’t bother naming them, maybe we are supposed to assume it was John Lear? But honestly, who gives a fuck?
The whole big reveal, is just Jeremy angrily drinking a beer and being an edge-lord, telling the audience
‘Just trust me, bro.’
Sleeping Dog is not a movie about UFOS.
It is a movie about wildly unchecked narcissism, about how UFO disclosure would be nothing without martial athlete, realtor, artist, journalist, handyman, podcaster, writer, husband, father, filmmaker, son, and momma’s boy Jeremy Corbell.
The only thing to do with this Sleeping Dog is to send it to a farm upstate, before it bites someone.
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