Tatsuki Fujimoto 17-26

During the barbecue scene in A Couple Clucking Chickens Were Still Kickin' in the Schoolyard, the audience erupted in laughter. But as the story reached its end, that laughter turned to silence and tears. That's the magic of Fujimoto's writing - his ability to shift effortlessly between comedy and heartbreak. His stories remind us that joy and sorrow often come from the same place, and that's what makes them unforgettable.

Tatsuki fujimoto is great.

I really like it its extremely good and perfect every episode is awesome its the best ever.

The best series ever i like it a lot i liked it a lot too everyone should watch this before dying its a one of a lifetime experience.

Maybe i will rewatch it one day too bad its only 8 episodes.

A Couple Clucking Chickens Were Still Kickin' in the Schoolyard blends absurd humor with a bleak sense of humanity's limits. What starts as a surreal spectacle slowly reveals something heartbreakingly real. The animation magnifies that tension, turning Fujimoto's dark wit into a meditation on compassion, cruelty, and the small dignity of survival. It's bizarre, funny, and quietly devastating.

These shorts feel deeply personal, as if Fujimoto poured fragments of his own identity into each story. In Shikaku, a young woman's emptiness echoes the universal fear of being unseen, while Mermaid Rhapsody explores the beauty and madness of love with eerie tenderness. Fujimoto shows that emotion doesn't need spectacle to feel profound - sometimes one quiet moment can reveal an entire world.

This anthology truly earns the nickname "the Japanese Love, Death & Robots." Each of the eight shorts, written by Tatsuki Fujimoto, opens a door to a completely different world-one moment surreal and chaotic, the next intimate and human. From the frantic violence of A Couple Clucking Chickens Were Still Kickin' in the Schoolyard to the bittersweet absurdity of Love Is Blind, every story feels fresh, daring, and unpredictable.

What ties them together is Fujimoto's signature blend of raw emotion and visual invention. He has an uncanny ability to turn madness into meaning-to find tenderness in brutality and humor in tragedy. The result is an anthology that doesn't just entertain; it disorients, challenges, and moves you.

Each short bursts with its own rhythm and energy, yet together they form a cohesive exploration of love, loss, and the strange beauty of being alive. Fujimoto's worlds are filled with contradictions-violent yet poetic, absurd yet deeply human-and it's in these contradictions that his genius shines most clearly.

By the time the credits roll, you're left exhilarated and oddly reflective, caught between laughter and melancholy. Love, Death & Robots may have inspired it, but Fujimoto's vision pushes further-reminding us that animation can be as emotionally layered, unpredictable, and profound as life itself.