Fifteen unforgettable adult animated movies from the East – each a masterpiece of art, emotion, and storytelling. One film per creator, and every one a gut punch in its own beautiful way.
Eastern animation has a way of sneaking up on you – soft colors, gentle starts, and then boom: emotional devastation, existential philosophy, or a sword fight that makes you question physics itself. From Japan to Korea and beyond, the East has redefined what “adult animation” can mean, turning hand-drawn art into everything from heartbreak to cosmic horror. And just like with our Western list, we’re only allowing one movie per creator – fair’s fair, even in emotional warfare.
This list dives into the haunting, the profound, and the breathtakingly strange works that make Eastern animation so unforgettable. These films don’t just tell stories – they pull you into entire worlds of beauty and melancholy. And when you’re done here, you can swing over to The 15 Best Adult Animated Movies from the West to see how the other side of the planet gets weird.
Night Is Short, Walk on Girl (2017)
A single night in Kyoto becomes a whirlwind of surreal encounters, cosmic bump-into’s and party-crowded bars in this energetic, elated trip of a film. The Girl with Black Hair strolls into one strange situation after another while her hopeful senpai tries ever so awkwardly to make his move – and the result is less “rom-com” and more “rom-quest through psychedelia”. Animation style? Wild, elastic, breaking frames and rules with glee. It’s adult not because of overly explicit scenes or ultra violence, but because it treats young love like a mystery, a fever and a possibility – all at once. The jokes land, the weirdness sticks, and by the end you’ll feel like you’ve lived one exhausting nightclub-night inside a painting. In short, this film proves anime can be dizzy, daring and deeply humane.
The Rabbi’s Cat (2011)
Imagine a talking cat with no name who swallows a parrot and suddenly starts philosophical bar-mitzvah debates in colonial Algeria – that’s the kind of zany foundation this film uses to ask serious questions. It weaves humor and religious tension, cultural clash and existential whimsy as the cat rattles the rabbi’s world and his daughter’s too. The animation flows in pastel-toned hand-drawn charm, but don’t let the prettiness fool you: the undercurrents run deep. The film is adult because it doesn’t simplify identity, faith or desire; it invites discomfort, laughter and reflection. It’s not just a cartoon – it’s a conversation in cat fur and books. And yes, the notion of you watching a cat demanding mitzvahs is quietly revolutionary.
Redline (2009)
A maniacal race through the cosmos, hand-drawn at ferocious speed, this film isn’t just fast – it’s furious, flamboyant and flagrantly animate. Hundreds of thousands of frames later, you feel every engine roar, every tire burn, every explosion in hyper-colour and insane design. But beneath the spectacle lies an adult core: ambition, obsession, risk, and what happens when you’re always chasing the next win. It treats animation like a full-throttle assault, not a safety net, and that’s why it lands. If you thought you knew what anime could do, Redline punches you sideways. It’s wild, unhinged and gloriously unfiltered.
Waltz With Bashir (2008)
This one takes animation into territory few others dare: memory, war, trauma and the question “can I trust what I recall?” The director strings you along a journey through 1982 Beirut, in fragments, in dreams, in pain – animated, yes, but heavy as real life. The beauty of the visuals contrasts with the horror of the truth, making you feel the disconnect between the outer calm and inner storm. It’s adult because it’s hungry for truth, not just entertainment, and expects you to keep up. If you’ve ever felt memory slip, or asked “what did I do when I watched?” this film answers. A haunting reminder that sometimes, the hardest things to animate are the things we try to forget.
Sword of the Stranger (2007)
Set in a waning era of swords and honor, this Japanese animated feature follows a nameless ronin and a young orphan chased by religious assassins – and it delivers action, pathos and artistry in equal measure. The fight scenes hit like storms, the landscapes whisper loneliness, and the characters’ burdens echo across the blade-shadows. It’s adult not just because there’s blood, but because it’s layered: regret, loyalty, the weight of being a guardian when you might not deserve the title. The animation is lush and kinetic, earned not flashy. And by the end you’ll know: some of the sharpest stories can be told with energy, silence, steel and a boy wanting safety.
Persepolis (2007)
A coming-of-age story like no other, this film follows a young girl growing up at the cusp of the Iranian Revolution and then into exile – so yes, it’s personal, political and quietly powerful. The hand-drawn black-and-white visuals evoke the graphic novel while zooming in on memory, injustice and identity with sharp elegance. It doesn’t pull its punches when it comes to war, exile or cultural displacement – but it also doesn’t lose its hope, humour or bittersweet humanity amid the trauma. Viewing it, you feel like you’re both a child seeing everything for the first time and a mature mind spotting the cracks. An “adult animated movie” in the best way: emotional, full of context, not just spectacle. It remains relevant, because the questions it asks – about self, country, change – never go out of style.
Tekkonkinkreet (2006)
In a decaying mega-city that’s part Tokyo, part dream, two orphaned brothers – one wild, one innocent – must protect their turf as forces tear the city apart. The animation smashes hand-drawn flair with 3D bravado, giving the chaos of “Treasure Town” a visual heartbeat of its own. But the spectacle is only part of it: the story asks what it means to be family when everything’s falling apart, and whether innocence can survive in a place built on rubble. The adult tag? It’s there in the gritty language, in the existential weight beneath street fights, and the moral blur when protecting becomes harming. Visually dazzling yet emotionally grounded, it’s one of those movies that sticks long after you’ve turned off the screen. You’ll leave thinking of concrete jungles differently.
Paprika (2006)
Dive into a dreamworld where reality fractures, therapists enter minds, and you’re never quite sure if you’re awake or still floating in sleep. Mind-bending, confident and wildly colourful, this one pushes animation into psychological thriller territory – yes, in Japan. The tweaks and turns keep you on your toes: identity, desire, what the subconscious hides and reveals. Because it’s adult animation, it doesn’t shy from high concept or emotional chaos – if anything it embraces them. Visual styling is deluxe, the story dense – but it remains about one thing: who we are when no one’s watching. And yes, it might twist your brain a little before giving you the weird calm of “I think I’m awake now.”
Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust (2000)
Picture gothic vampires, blood-red skies, ancient nobility, a stoic hunter named D and the question: how much saviour can one become when you’re born cursed? This dark fantasy film blends horror and glamor in a way that animation rarely does outside of niche cult corners. It’s adult not merely for the gore or the vampire mythology, but for its loneliness, its doomed romance and the idea of duty born from pain. The atmosphere is heavy, the backgrounds rich, the fight scenes elegant yet brutal. You don’t walk away humming songs; you walk away thinking about immortality, loss and the weight of salvation. One of those titles that reminds you animation can be as fierce and grave as any live-action midnight treat.
Perfect Blue (1997)
This film takes pop stardom, identity crisis and voyeurism and folds them into a psychological horror that just happens to be animated – so your mind plays catch-up while your eyes get drawn in. A former pop idol becomes an actress, then a target of obsession, then an unravelled self – it’s uncomfortable, intense, introspective. The animation greys the edges, keeps you off-balance, and the narrative twists feel earned, not gimmicks. It’s adult because it dives deep: celebrity, performance, reality vs illusion, the mirror that stares back and you’re not sure who’s looking. Once you’ve seen it, you’ll never look at reflections the same way. A masterclass in craft and discomfort.
Ghost in the Shell (1995)
You know you’re in deep when an animated movie starts questioning the very nature of identity before the first gunfight ends. Set in a slick, cyber-drenched future where minds can be hacked and bodies upgraded, this story turns sci-fi into philosophy without losing its pulse-pounding rhythm. The visuals remain iconic – neon reflections, digital rain, a city that hums like a living organism. But what makes it adult isn’t the violence or nudity – it’s the ache of consciousness, the longing to know if being human is just code with nostalgia attached. It’s haunting, brilliant, and still feels like tomorrow.
Akira (1988)
Long before “post-apocalyptic anime” became a genre tag, this film dropped a psychic bomb on pop culture. Neo-Tokyo isn’t just futuristic – it’s feverish, with rebellion and mutation running down every cracked highway. The story of Kaneda and Tetsuo’s friendship-turned-meltdown hits harder than most live-action tragedies, while the hand-drawn detail remains jaw-dropping decades later. What makes it adult is its chaos: power, corruption, loss, and the inability to control what’s already broken. You don’t just watch Akira; you absorb it like a psychic shockwave. It’s cinematic anarchy at its most refined.
Grave of the Fireflies (1988)
Forget capes and explosions – this is a war film stripped to bare emotion. Two siblings trying to survive in bombed-out Japan sounds simple, but the way it unfolds will quietly ruin you. The animation glows with soft light even as everything it shows burns, creating an unbearable contrast between beauty and devastation. It’s adult because it’s honest, unsparing, and refuses to offer false comfort. Few films, animated or not, capture loss this humanly. You’ll finish it with a lump in your throat and a new respect for the power of hand-drawn tragedy.
Barefoot Gen (1983)
This one doesn’t flinch. It stares straight into Hiroshima’s firestorm and forces you to see it through the eyes of a child who refuses to die quietly. The result is brutal, haunting, but necessary – animation as historical witness. The rough, simple lines only make the horror more immediate, less filtered. And yet, somehow, hope seeps through the ashes, stubborn and human. It’s adult because it insists on remembrance and accountability, not sentimentality. Watching it is less “entertainment” and more a reckoning you won’t soon forget.
Belladonna of Sadness (1973)
Psychedelic witchcraft, sensuality, and rebellion swirl together in this jaw-dropping, watercolor fever dream. It tells the tale of Jeanne, a woman betrayed and reborn as a force of vengeance against her feudal oppressors. The artwork flows like an acid-trip tapestry – at times static, at times overwhelming. Beneath the surreal beauty lies a defiant feminist core: rage, desire, and reclamation painted in purples, reds, and defiance. It’s adult not for titillation but for its honesty about power, sexuality, and resistance. You don’t just watch it; you feel possessed by it.