Top 100 Best Anime Movies of All Time

41. Steamboy (2004)
Director: Katsuhiro Otomo

Steamboy, Katsuhiro Otomo’s long awaited follow-up to his defining 1988 film Akira, is remarkable for many reasons. Set in 1866 amid the landmark Great Exhibition in London, Steamboy is a high-flying steampunk adventure centered on a young inventor named Ray and a powerful object engineered by his genius scientist father and grandfather. The film is replete with the intricate details and expressive character animations that are synonymous with Otomo’s reputation as a master of the craft. The set-pieces are sweeping, and the action is entertaining, but there’s something missing. The plot plods and grinds to an excruciatingly slow pace during the film’s third act with just an hour left of the movie. The supporting characters are slight and ultimately insignificant to the arcs of either the protagonist or antagonist. And the film’s central theme, the question of what do the pursuit of science and industry owe to the whole of humanity, comes across as at best muddled and at worst disappointingly simplistic. Inspired initially by Otomo’s short “Cannon Fodder” for his 1995 anthology Memories and the pulp fantasy adventure novels of Edward Ellis and Harry Enton, Steamboy’s production lasted just shy of a decade, consisted of over 180,000 drawings and 440 computer-animated cuts, and cost an estimated $20 million. With that being said, despite its shortcomings, Steamboy remains a visually impressive technical achievement in modern animation. It’s a low mark in a filmography of outstanding work that still manages to crest higher than the majority of works it was released alongside of.

40. Porco Rosso (1992)
Director: Hayao Miyazaki

Sometimes cited as “lesser Miyazaki,” Porco Rosso is actually one of his most complex and melancholy films. Set in Croatia in the years immediately following World War I, the film revolves around the the titular character, an ex-WWI flying ace who has been turned into a human-sized pig through a mysterious curse (which is never really explained, only alluded to). Most of the film covers the story of Porco’s rivalry with a brash American pilot, Curtis, and their competition to win the hand of Gina, Porco’s longtime friend and the love of his life. Originally commissioned as a short in-flight film for Japan Airlines based on Miyazaki’s short manga, it slowly expanded into a feature film—and was of course a huge hit in Japan, despite being a bit of a departure for Miyazaki. Up until his most recent film, The Wind Rises, Porco Rosso was the Studio Ghibli film that perhaps had the most “Miyazaki” in it. His obsessions with European towns, the forward march of technology, the disruptive effect of war, plucky young heroines, and of course, planes and flight, are more than just foregrounded here—they are the film. The entire enterprise has a mournful, melancholy feel, and thus a possibly ridiculous situation (a pig living his life as a man) is given a surprising amount of pathos. Porco pretends not to care that he isn’t human any more, and we learn that he feels he was cursed due to an act of cowardice in battle—although it’s never really clear if there’s anything he could have done differently. Porco’s mournfulness and survivor’s guilt permeate everything he does, and his resignation at his transformed state stunts his growth in other areas, making him a particularly sad protagonist. Paced more deliberately than other Miyazaki films, Porco Rosso comes together for a rousing climax, a beautifully realized dogfight that lives up to the insanely high bar set by Miyazaki’s other flying sequences. Along with The Wind Rises, Porco Rosso is one of Miyazaki’s least fanciful films, using real planes, a real location, and set during real events. More grounded than a fantasy about a pig man would suggest, Porco Rosso nevertheless reaches heights that will leave any anime fan breathless—and does it in style. —J.D.

39. The Girl Who Leapt through Time (2006)
Director: Mamoru Hosoda

Though The Girl Who Leapt through Time may not technically be Mamoru Hosoda’s first turn as a director, it’s nonetheless the film that first introduced his name to the world stage and affixed the albatross title of “the next Miyazaki” around his neck. Based on Yasutaka Tsutsui’s 1967 novel, Hosoda’s film is a spiritual successor of sorts to the original. Makoto Konno is by all appearances an average high school girl with a habit of clumsiness and oversleeping. But after discovering a mysterious artifact while hanging around after class, she soon discovers that she has the ability to “leap” backward through time. What then begins as frivolous dalliances of youthful indiscretion soon enough cascades into an unforeseen series of chain reactions that threaten to shake her life to the core and force her to commit to the consequences of her actions. It’s a beautiful film for sure, with terrific animation confidently bringing Yoshiyuki Sadamoto’s signature character designs to life. Like all great science-fiction, The Girl Who Leapt through Time offers the satisfaction of speculative wish fulfillment combined with an earthly lesson that touches home: time waits for no one, and no matter our fears or regrets, an inescapable part of growing up means taking a leap of faith into the unknown and learning how to fly on our way down.

38. The Place Promised in Our Early Days (2004)
Director: Makoto Shinkai

Trying to nail down Makoto Shinkai’s “best” film is a difficult task, to say the least. While none of his films are “bad” per se, his work has the tendency to retread a common arrangement of visual and thematic motifs that, although entertaining, leave something to be desired in the way of range. To put it simply: If you’ve seen one of his films, you can reliably guess what his others will be like. That’s what makes The Place Promised in Our Early Days so exemplary. It touches on all of Shinkai’s major themes and emotional beats (“lonely sadness,” ennui, romantic melancholy) and wrapping his aesthetic sentimentality in a strong sci-fi fantasy drama that gives those beats heft and a satisfying course of resolution. Shinkai’s first feature-length production, The Place Promised in Our Early Days is set in an alternate universe where Japan has been stratified into two opposing territories occupied by the Soviet Union and United States. The film follows the stories of Hiroki, Takuyi and Sayuri, three childhood friends who in 1996 form a pact to one day fly to the mysterious spindling tower built on the Union’s territory and discover its secrets. This adolescent quest soon escalates into a dramatic international conflict involving parallel dimensions, false realities and experimental technology. Flushed with the grandiose settings of sepia-coated cloudscape that Shinkai is best known for, The Place Promised in Our Early Dayshones the director’s talents to a fine point, delivering an exhilarating emotional high in its final climactic moments.

37. Interstella 5555 (2003)
Director: Kazuhisa Takenouchi

Back in 2003, Daft Punk were on top of the world. Coming off the release of their breakout sophomore album Discovery with chart-topping singles like “Aerodynamic” and “One More Time,” the duo has confidently secured their place at the apex of the EDM zeitgeist. However, the pair had yet still more surprise up their sleeves. During the early recording sessions of Discovery, Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo co-wrote a screenplay based on the album with the intent of pitching it to their childhood hero, Leiji Matsumoto. One year before the album’s release, the pair travelled to Tokyo to present their idea to Matsumoto, which he accepted. The rest, they say, was history. Reportedly costing $4 million to produce, Interstella 5555 transformed an album that many thought to be absent of any hint of story and transformed into a grandiose EDM space opera rock odyssey centered on the perilous kidnapping and subsequent rescue of a blue-skinned alien rock band from the nefarious clutches of a label executive bent on galactic domination. More than just a serendipitous alignment of two immensely creative forces, Interstella 5555 surpasses the limitations of having no spoken dialogue to become a fascinating allegory for the appropriation of talent and the predatory machinations of the entertainment industry. It’s a one-of-a-kind collaboration that feels like a film pulled from some impossible, alternate dimension that should be seen by dance music fans and anime aficionados alike.

36. Vampire Hunter D (1985)
Director: Toyoo Ashida

Being an anime fan in the late ’80s/early ’90s was more difficult than it is today, with the wealth of streaming options available to younger fans. In the pre-internet, VHS era, U.S. anime fans were forced to choose from what was available at their local video store- or black market illegal fansubs. To otaku of a certain age, Vampire Hunter D is a classic of this bygone era. One of the first “adult-themed” anime to come across the pond and end up at places like Blockbuster—for you younger readers, that was Netflix before Netflix—it was pretty much required viewing by any budding anime fan. In fact it’s fair to say that for a time, Vampire Hunter D had higher awareness among U.S. fans than any anime with the exception of Akira, or one or two other major titles. The story, adapted from Hideyuki Kikuchi’s 1983 novel, is a relatively simplistic gothic western set against a post-apocalyptic backdrop and following the adventures of the dhampir (half-vampire) “Vampire Hunter D.” D himself is properly mysterious and taciturn in the classic mode of Japanese male protagonists, speaking rarely and generally being more of a “man of action.” This is good, as the script adaptation and dub are pretty rough (there has since been a Blu-Ray release of the film with the original Japanese dialogue). Where Vampire Hunter D excels is in its design, by the legendary Yoshitaka Amano, and direction, by Toyoo Ashida (Fist of the North Star). As an OVA, the animation quality is better than the average TV series of the era, but not up to the level of a theatrical release. A superior follow-up film, Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust, was released 15 years later, and the series of light novels upon which the films are based still continues today. From today’s perspective, Vampire Hunter D is a dated, almost charming, example of a time when this sort of semi-adult cartoon content was considered “dangerous” to budding young anime fans in the United States. Along with a few other key titles like Wicked City and Ninja Scroll, Vampire Hunter D lit the flame for many older anime fans, and for that reason alone it deserves to be appreciated. —J.D.

35. Castle in the Sky (1986)
Director: Hayao Miyazaki

Coming off the critical and commercial success of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Hayao Miyazaki would go on to found Studio Ghibli alongside his mentor and collaborator Isao Takahata and Toshio Suzuki before immediately setting to work on the studio’s first major production. Castle in the Sky, alternatively titled as Laputa: Castle in the Sky, opens with a young girl named Sheeta who, after narrowly escaping the clutches of a band of air pirates who seek to exploit her for unknown ends, is miraculously saved as she falls from a flying airship by a mysterious amulet that levitates her safely to the ground. She lands in the careful arms of Pazu, a young boy from a local mining village who dreams of one day discovering the fabled floating city of Laputa and vindicating his father’s memory. What follows is a two-hour high-action adventure between the pair being doggedly chased by pirates, the military and an unscrupulous government agent—all on a quest to find the legendary castle and manipulate its untold treasures and secrets to their own nefarious ends. Castle in the Sky is a tremendous film powered by pure propulsive momentum, each setting filled with back-to-back hilarious and harrowing moments that would give Indiana Jones a run for its money in terms of action and spectacle. Inspired by the likes of Gulliver’s Travels and Judeo-Christian folklore, the floating city of Laputa is just one of the countless iconic locations that Miyazaki has conjured into the collective imagination throughout his near-fifty-year-long career. Though perhaps not as well-known as Princess Mononoke or Spirited Away, Castle in the Sky is nonetheless an essential entry in Studio Ghibli’s filmography of classics.

34. Appleseed (2004)
Director: Shinji Aramaki

Based on Masamune Shirow’s 1985 award-winning sci-fi action manga series, Appleseed tells the story of ESWAT soldier Deunan Knute and her cyborg lover Briareos, who are charged with defending the utopian city of Olympus amid the turmoil of a post-apocalyptic world. Already well-respected for his mecha designs for such series as Megazone 23 and Bubblegum Crisis, Appleseed was Shinji Aramaki’s feature-length debut and noteworthy for its extensive use of CGI and cel-shading technology. Though far from the first anime to be exclusively produced in this format and released just three years after the critical and commercial windfall of Square Enix’s Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, Appleseed was quintessential in proving the vitality and convenience of using CGI in anime production when put in the right hands. With great visuals, solid action, an infectious techno soundtrack courtesy of Japanese electronic duo Boom Boom Satellites, and a serviceable if clichéd plot, Appleseed remains a significant touchstone in the history of early-aught animation and, on top of that, a pretty entertaining watch to boot.

33. Panda! Go, Panda! (1972)
Director: Isao Takahata

If you’re looking for the direct spiritual predecessor to the likes of My Neighbor Totoro or Ponyo, you’ll have to turn your focus all the way back to 1972, a full thirteen years before Studio Ghibli was founded. Initially released that year as a 33-minute theatrical short film before being expanded a year later with a second installment titled The Rainy-Day Circus, Panda! Go, Panda!introduced the trope of a lovable and mischievous sidekick character that would later become a constant throughout some of the studio’s best known works. Conceived, scripted and storyboarded by Hayao Miyazaki and directed by his mentor Takahata, Panda is the story of a little girl named Mimiko who, after being left home alone while her grandmother is away, becomes the adoptive daughter and surrogate mother to a giant talking panda and his son Panny. It only gets weirder from there. Mimiko is a Pippi Longstockings-like character who is unfazed by the sheer insanity that surrounds her, while her lovable panda father has a low-key psychotic vibe about him when it comes to his obsession with the bamboo grove outside Mimiko’s house. Still, Panda! Go, Panda! isn’t meant to be taken seriously. It’s a fun, cutesy children’s film with an infectious theme song that satisfies in its simplicity while also being a fascinating precursor to what Studio Ghibli would go on to perfect in their later work.

32. Robot Carnival (1987)
Director: Various

Silent animated shorts set to dramatic orchestral music, commonly known as Silly Symphonies, were all the rage in America throughout the 1920s and ’30s. Perhaps the most famous example from this era of animation was Fantasia, produced by Walt Disney and released to critical acclaim in 1940. Robot Carnival is anime’s answer to that film, a collection of nine short films produced by nine of the most esteemed anime directors and character designers of their time. For sure, not every short shines as a pillar of canonical greatness, e.g., Hiroyuki Kitazume’s “Starlight Angel” or Hidetoshi Omori’s “Deprive.” But when a short does shine, it’s a sight to behold. Koji Morimoto’s “Franken’s Gear” is a brilliant choice for an opener, while Manabu Ohashi’s “Cloud” is a melancholic gem that memorably experiments through the use of scratchboard animation. Hiroyuki Kitakubo’s “Strange Tales of Meiji Machine Culture: Westerner’s Invasion” is a imaginative take on the Giant Robot subgenre that’s as ridiculous as its name, and Takashi Nakamura’s “Chicken Man and Red Neck” is the true anime analog to Fantasia’s iconic “Night on Bald Mountain.” Even if Robot Carnival was not an awesome collection—and it is—it would still be a remarkable timestamp of when a constellation of talented young director align to create a project born completely out of a love for the medium.

31. Mobile Suit Gundam: Char’s Counterattack (1988)
Director: Yoshiyuki Tomino

The first Gundam theatrical and final chapter in the original saga begun in 1979 with the “Universal Century Timeline” of the Mobile Suit Gundam TV series, Char’s Counterattack has the weight of three seasons of TV behind it. Yoshiyuki Tomino, creator of the Gundam series, directed and wrote the film, adapting it faithfully from his novel, Hi-Streamer. Widely considered the best film in the Gundam franchise, Char’s Counterattack is most successful at wrapping up the 14-year rivalry between the “hero” of the Earth Federation, Amuro Ray, and the leader of Neo-Zeon, Char Aznable. The story involves a classic Gundam dilemma: Char’s Neo-Zeon force attempts to drop an asteroid filled with nuclear weapons onto Earth, which would free the colonies from the yoke of oppression by their rivals, the Earth Federation, and kill everyone on Earth in the process. As with all of the best Gundam tales, Tomino approaches the story from a hard sci-fi point of view, clearly laying out the science behind things like giant mobile suits and “newtypes” (humans that have evolved to acquire psychic abilities). Tomino carefully lays out the reasoning behind Char and Amuro’s passions and hatreds, not allowing the viewer to choose a clear side. Gundam series have always been willing to take on discussions about the horrors of war and how mankind, for all its advancements, never seems to be able to free itself from humanity’s baser instincts. Char’s Counterattack attempts this as well, yet it’s mostly concerned with wrapping up the rivalry between Amuro and Char—and on that note, it succeeds wildly. Featuring gorgeous, tense fight sequences set in space, an excellent soundtrack by Shigeaki Saegusa, and some of the most lauded Gundam designs in the history of the franchise, the film is inarguably one of the high points of the Gundam Universe. One down side: if you don’t have the investment of spending hundreds of episodes of television with these characters, the plot can be confusing, and Char/Amuro’s ending will likely not resonate as strongly. Regardless, Char’s Counterattack remains a key moment in the Gundam universe, one still worth checking out almost 30 years later. Hail Zeon! —J.D.

30. Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989)
Director: Hayao Miyazaki

Based on Eiko Kadono’s popular 1985 young adult novel, Kiki’s Delivery Service is a cheerful and charming story of adolescent independence and growing up. Miyazaki’s fourth film under Studio Ghibli follows the titular Kiki, a thirteen year old witch who ventures out into the world from teh comfort of her hometown for a year to begin her training as an adult. Noticeably lacking in any sort of antagonist or grand adventure, Kiki’s Delivery Service focuses instead on the everyday struggles of a young adult coming into her own, albeit with a magical twist. Finding a place to stay, securing a job, learning how to make new friends and taking on more responsibilities: these are the sort of stakes that define Kiki’s journey and make her story an endearing one. Miyazaki’s affinity for depicting flight shines through every scene of Kiki wrestling against the air current to steady her broom mid-flight, her dress billowing in the wind as she jets off in the film’s spectacular finale. Though all of Studio Ghibli’s previous films were modest critical if not financial successes up to this point, Kiki’s Delivery Service was a true watershed moment for the studio, becoming the highest-grossing film in Japan in 1989 and securing critical acclaim both at home and overseas. The film is a story of independence, positivity, and the font of inner strength that compels every young person to go out into the world and build a life for his or herself.