Tamala 2010 doesn't explain itself, and that refusal is the whole point. The black-and-white grotesque pulls you into a corporate nightmare where nothing coheres except the dread, the soundtrack bleeding underneath every scene like a second narrator telling you what your body should feel. A one-year-old kitten fleeing an entire galaxy of lies is absurd, but the punk energy never winks at the camera, it commits so hard to the wrongness that you stop asking for plot and start feeling texture instead. This is experimental cinema that knows its audience: people who'd rather sit in beautiful discomfort than follow a clean three-act structure.

Tamala is a carefree, foul-mouthed one-year-old cat living in 2010 on Cat Earth, where Meguro City and nearly the whole economy are run by the megacorporation Catty & Co., whose reach is spreading across the galaxy. Fed up, she sets off in her spaceship toward Orion, the planet where she was born. A crash landing strands her on planet Q, where she meets a fellow cat, Michaelangelo, whom she calls MoiMoi. Together they wander Hate City, a capital held under martial law to keep its feuding cats and dogs apart, passing graffiti and museum displays about an ancient cult of Minerva that hint at something sinister. When a violent biker named Kentauros takes an interest in Tamala, the pair run, and questions about who she really is and how she is tied to Catty & Co. keep piling up. The film blends comedy, psychological elements and science fiction.