Love, Death & Robots is back – one series, dozens of worlds. Series to the Past #1

It was meant to be an experiment, but it became a hallmark of Netflix and their capabilities in terms of graphics. It has often been considered the best animated series created by Netflix. On May 15, we had the premiere of Season 4 of Love, Death & Robots. On the occasion of the premiere of this unique anthology, we decided to take a fresh look at the whole series to identify the elements that made it such an exceptional work. Can an anthology that not only has a different story in each episode but also differs in graphic style remain forever in pop culture?

This is the first article in this series. We will discuss many works as we return to series that have somehow made their mark in the annals of pop culture. So welcome to the series of articles: Series to the Past!

From photorealism to pure abstraction – each episode is a new approach to form!

What distinguishes this series from the very beginning is the fact that it has no single style. It resembles more a collection of business cards from various artists and animation studios from around the world. Specifically, each episode features a totally new studio, a new type of visualization, new tools, and new voice actors (and more: Season 4 includes an episode titled "Golgotha," featuring actors). For example, we will discuss a couple of exceptional episodes, without significant spoilers, and we will skip Season 4:

First up is the episode "Immortal Art" (s1e14) – a classic from the first season. Here, the creators opted for a minimalist, somewhat retro comic book aesthetic. Clear outlines, simple colors, and slightly exaggerated styling create the atmosphere of a philosophical science fiction fairy tale. It is an animation that resembles a graphic novel – seemingly static, yet pulsating with emotion and color.

In turn, “Witness” (s1e3) surprises with something completely different. It's one of the most “vivid” visually episodes — full of neon lights, with dynamic editing and exceptionally smooth camera movement. The whole thing was created by the Spanish studio Blow, which combined CGI with hand-animated textures and effects. The result? A visual extravaganza that invokes futuristic thrillers in the style of “Blade Runner,” only more deeply immersed in the aesthetic of a techno club.

Meanwhile, “Mason’s Rats” (s3e7) and “Life Hutch” (s2e7) show how close animation can be to reality. The latter episode, featuring Michael B. Jordan, hardly reveals that we are dealing with full CGI. Motion capture technology was used here to capture every facial grimace, muscle tension, gaze — the final effect is almost indistinguishable from live-action cinema. The action takes place in a claustrophobic escape pod, and the weight of emotion and horror is intensified by every detail: sweat on the forehead, reflections of light, subtle close-ups. This is animation at the edge of the illusion between CGI and the real world, and this is what gives it its power of “too real to not hurt.”

Visual feast and psychological trip. This Netflix series does more than many narratives!

What connects such diverse episodes is quality. Whether you're watching the grotesque CGI from the episode "Three Robots"(s1e2), the cel-shaded fantasy styling like in "The Drowned Giant"(s3e2), or the painterly animation from "Jibaro"(s3e9), you feel that these are not just adult cartoons. These are polished, often experimental artistic visions that do not forget that emotions are always the most important aspect of any spectacle.

Importantly, each visual style has been chosen to match the story it tells. If the episode is chaotic and crazy – like "Kill Team Kill"(s3e5) – we get animation straight out of Cartoon Network on steroids. And when the narrative ventures into poetic or tragic realms – like in "Jibaro"(s3e9) – the creators lean towards an almost spiritual aesthetic, with choreography and color that astonish with their intensity.

What's more – short formats, zero boredom!

One of the important advantages of the series is the length of the episodes. Most of them last from 5 to 20 minutes – and it's no coincidence. Because of this, even if the plot is simple, the theme familiar, and the characters only sketched out, there’s no time to get bored. Short formats allow focus on what truly impresses, namely the atmosphere, the presentation, and the rhythm of the story. This works especially well in tales that could blur in a full-length format. In this case, they simply hit us: quickly and effectively.

Sound design? Just as good as the image – and equally underrated!

Although sight dominates, one cannot forget the soundtrack. Many episodes of the series use sound not only as a backdrop but as an integral part of the narrative. In “Jibaro”, there is not a single spoken line. Everything is based on the sounds of the body, breath, water, metal, and screams. Surprisingly, in this setting, it is louder than any other dialogue, especially thanks to those sensory strikes.

In “Good Hunting”, sound plays the role of a guide between eras. Initially, we hear calm, Asian melodies, the breath of nature, and silence, only for them to give way to the sounds of a mechanized city, the hiss of steam, and the clattering of machines. The contrast in the audio layer works perfectly with the change of the world and characters in the episode.

Meanwhile, in “Pop Squad”, we see how masterfully to create atmosphere with sound. Where other episodes focus on effect, suddenly we have silence in our ears. Rain and the echo of an empty apartment are meant to build an atmosphere of loneliness and moral conflict. The soundtrack acts like a gentle pang of conscience, quietly but impossible to ignore.

The only series of its kind that captivates the eye, ear, and mind – and still maintains its quality!

There is no other series like this one. “Love, Death & Robots” turned out to be more than just an ordinary anthology with elements of science fiction. They created some kind of festival of visuals, ideas, and styles. A series that can be watched like an art exhibition, which aims to inspire graphic artists and filmmakers. 

 It is also a work that practically begs for viewing on a high-quality screen – OLED, Mini-LED, or simply something with good blacks and strong contrast. It’s worth watching this series on a television that will fully convey the creators' vision – every detail, light, texture, and movement. So check out our rankings of affordable televisions, as well as comparisons of LG and Samsung models that perform best with this type of animation.