With direction by Toshio Kawaguchi (an accomplished journeyman in the industry if there ever was one, with credits that run from Akira to Studio Ghibli to Neon Genesis Evangelion), Pluto tells the story of a robot detective named Gesicht and the wave of murders of robots and humans that he’s tasked with investigating. Gesicht’s work leads him to discern that a killer is targeting both the most advanced robots in the world and the people involved with supporting International Robot Laws. However, whatever might seem clear cut in the beginning reveal themselves to be forces beyond the protagonist’s comprehension.

Pluto is littered with homages and nods — one can find bits not only from Astro Boy but the works of Isaac Asimov and Philip K. Dick and even Pinnochio and Silence of the Lambs. Its emotional cohesion renders it to be much more than an onslaught of ideas, though. At the forefront is the role of robots in the world and the ethics involved in their treatment, but it’s all wrapped up in a much wider concern about what it truly means to be conscious and if the pre-conceived barriers between humans and robots are even there at all. And in an age where arguments about artificial intelligence and the differences of algorithmic service and actual creation are ongoing, Pluto feels more than a little prescient.