If there is one person Matthew Lancit can’t get out of his mind, it is his uncle Harvey. Dark rings around his eyes, pale, blind, his legs amputated. Like Harvey, the filmmaker also suffers from diabetes. He has the disease under control, but one question is always nagging at him: How much longer? His long-term (self-)observation reliably revolves around fears of infirmity and mutilation. He translates the feared body horror into film, stages himself as a zombie, vampire, a desolate figure. Lancit playfully anticipates his potential decline, serving up a whole arsenal of effects which – as video recordings prove – go back to his youth. It is not for nothing that the “dead” in the title is also reminiscent of “dad.” Because “Play Dead!” also negotiates his own role as a father.

Depuis peu Eric Vincent, trentenaire sans histoire, a un fort sentiment de malaise. Est-ce la peur d'avoir un enfant ou celle de voir brutalement resurgir le fantôme d'un père qu'il n'a jamais connu ? Un matin, un inconnu l'appelle pour lui proposer de récupérer les cendres de son père. D'abord réticent, il finit par accepter et se retrouve plongé au coeur d'une machination infernale.