Kôji Yamamoto

Kôji Yamamoto might not be a household name, but the guy’s fingerprints are all over some pretty wild rides in Japanese animation. Shisha no Teikoku (The Empire of Corpses) is probably the weirdest of the bunch—think alternate 19th-century steampunk where dead bodies get a second lease on life as mindless laborers, and Dr. Frankenstein is basically a rockstar scientist. It’s got conspiracies, international intrigue, the whole Victorian gothic-meets-science-fiction vibe, and honestly, it’s way more fun than your high school English class ever suggested. Then there’s Hâmonî. This one’s set in a future so utopian it’s actually kind of creepy—everyone’s healthy, peaceful, and under constant watch. Not exactly a party. The story follows three women who try to break free from all that “perfect” control, and it doesn’t shy away from asking if humanity’s even worth saving when everything’s so sanitized. Pretty heady, but it’s the kind of film that sticks with you, especially if you’ve ever side-eyed your fitness tracker. Penguin Highway? That movie’s a total left turn. It’s about a super smart fourth-grader who keeps running into penguins popping up in his town—no, really, penguins, everywhere. There’s a bit of sci-fi, a lot of coming-of-age awkwardness, and that classic “what is even happening?” energy. Yamamoto’s work ties all these stories together—he’s part of what makes these films feel both offbeat and oddly relatable, even when things get downright bizarre.