A mad king demands his subjects laugh. They don't, so he builds increasingly elaborate machines to force the joke, each one more useless than the last. Kuri Yoji made this in 1966 and somehow captured the exact feeling of absurdity collapsing under its own weight, the kind of comedy that works because nothing in it is trying to make sense. If you've ever watched something deliberately broken and felt it click, this is the ancestor of that feeling.
A deranged killer stalks the streets in this hallucinogenic fever dream of a film. Reality bends and fractures around the central figure as the narrative spirals deeper into madness, blending crude animation with surreal visual gags that feel more like witnessing a acid trip than watching a conventional story. The comedy emerges from the sheer absurdity of the situation rather than any punchlines, with the film embracing total chaos as its primary tool. Backgrounds shift into impossible geometries, characters behave according to no logical system, and the distinction between hunter and hunted becomes meaningless in the anarchic landscape. This experimental short operates on dream logic rather than narrative structure, prioritizing visual imagination over coherent plot. Viewers drawn to avant-garde animation and willing to surrender their expectations of what a "story" should look like will find something genuinely unhinged here. The film commits fully to its madness without ever winking at the audience, treating its surreal premise with the seriousness of a genuine thriller while remaining completely untethered from reality.