When I was a wee child, I watched Farewell My Concubine and was deeply traumatized by the scene where the main character’s mom cut off his extra finger. I had no idea what the movie was really about, but that scene stayed with me for years. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. In college, I watched the film again (or perhaps watched it truly for the first time) and was happy, for once, that I had grown up. I was happy because I could finally comprehend the film in all its beauty, a beauty that enthralls and horrifies and depresses at once. The movie was a beautiful because it was filmed beautifully and also because it told a strange, beautiful tale that intertwined personal tragedy with societal tragedy in a way that felt touchingly genuine.
Demon Cat, on the other hand . . . was just beautifully filmed.
From the Eye of the Snail 