I just feel that there is too much blood spurting. Japanese people are not the same as Chinese people, but I still understand very well that the part where the hotel owner died was
too much blood, and the final ending was also a kind of crying and laughing (since then, the world has changed regained a sense of calm...).
Also, the lady on stage 69 who sewed up her breasts in the play is awesome. When I saw Mama Sang open the last curtain, I was stunned. It turns out that imagination can still play like this. . . .
In short, the bloody feeling of black humor is the same as that of the domestic power king. The blood is big and the flesh is fake, but it looks cool.
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