I rarely use the word "masterpiece." Considering I've watched a lot of movies—over one thousand, to be exact, adding up to more than fifteen hundred hours—there are only about seven films I’d genuinely call masterpieces, using the term in its full sense. *The Wailing* is now the eighth film that I happily and without any reservations consider a masterpiece. I'm not usually drawn to Asian supernatural horror. While I enjoy it and generally give those movies respectable ratings, many of them seem similar, relying on familiar plots and a fairly conventional approach to the supernatural. In Japanese films, it’s often about curses causing mysterious deaths; in South Korean cinema, you tend to see cursed objects leading people to murder each other—that's what I most frequently encounter. When I saw that *The Wailing* was categorized as supernatural horror, I braced myself for a decent movie, probably around a 6 or 7 out of 10, but not something particularly memorable within the broader landscape of horror films. However, *The Wailing* presented some truly striking visuals. The cinematography is beautiful. The scenes with gore are brutal, unfiltered, and unapologetic. The film showcases South Korean ritualism and beliefs in a complete and uninhibited way. Na Hong Jin doesn’t shy away from the racial tensions between Japanese and South Koreans, incorporating a historical perspective into a beautifully complex story that left me speechless but also subtly uneasy—something I suspect was intentional on his part. The acting was exceptional; regardless of what else these actors do in the future, I'll always associate them with *The Wailing*. The supernatural elements were unique, which surprised and impressed me, as the film isn’t afraid to break genre conventions and forge a new path. With an intriguing, stunning, and intensely raw storyline, this two-and-a-half-hour experience was well worth my time. This is a film that deserves all the buzz that other Asian horror films have received but ultimately failed to deliver on—this is the Korean horror of 2016, the one that should have spearheaded South Korean, or even Asian, horror into 2017. It demonstrates skill, promise, and expertise. Hong Jin shares with us the remarkable talents of not only himself but also his screenwriter, cast, editing team, makeup artists—everyone involved. You can sense the passion, dedication, and pure love that went into making this movie. A perfect score of 10/10 simply isn't sufficient for a film like this. It’s a twisting, unsettling, horrifying masterpiece.

Source on TMDB