In "Wiener-Dog," the wiener-dog is life. With its head held upright pertly, and its stupid legs too short for its body, it is a thing to which things happen. In fact, that would make wiener-dog not life, but you. There's: a weird couple, mentally disabled people, a brilliant Ellen Burstyn, Julie Delpy as a monster, dog shit, dog shitting blood, neurotic everybodies, a hostile teacher of screenwriting, and a maybe fucked up girl on drugs with a boyfriend named Fantasy. This is Todd Solondz, of course, who else would it be? You won't like it if you don't like freaks, if you're not a freak. Everyone is either unstable or unhappy or in denial regarding their instability and/or their unhappiness. It's a series of stories, like an anthology or a collection of essays, with that dim dog traipsing its way through. There's even an absurd intermission. If you're stupid and small, don't watch it.
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