Lupin dies in the first five minutes and spends the rest of the movie trying to figure out why he's still breathing. The animation moves like a living comic book, all swooping angles and impossible colors that make even a scene of standing around feel like you're watching a heist unfold. By the time you realize nobody involved actually knows what's happening anymore, you've stopped asking questions and started trusting Lupin's instinct instead of the plot, which is exactly where this film wants you.
Lupin III is dead. Or so the world believes. The legendary thief wakes up in his own coffin, very much alive and completely bewildered by his own resurrection. Before he can make sense of it, he's pulled into a labyrinth of deception involving his rival Fujiko, shadowy figures with sinister agendas, and a shocking discovery: he might not be the only Lupin walking the planet. Someone is cloning him. Someone is building an army of perfect duplicates. And somewhere in the chaos, a diminutive genius with megalomaniacal dreams plans to reshape civilization itself. Lupin reunites his crew, but trust becomes currency in a game where nothing is certain and no one can be fully believed. Every corner hides another twist, another betrayal, another reason to question reality. This film throws heist sequences, sci-fi intrigue, and absurdist humor into a blender set to maximum chaos. What results is a caper that abandons logic in favor of spectacle, where the real mystery isn't just who's cloning Lupin, but whether Lupin himself knows who he actually is.