Released in 2003 by the renowned Studio Madhouse, Texhnolyze quickly earned a reputation for its dark, avant-garde storytelling and deeply philosophical themes. Directed by Hiroshi Hamasaki and featuring the creative team behind Serial Experiments Lain, this anime immerses viewers in a dystopian world where human augmentation and societal decay collide. Despite its heavy atmosphere and slow-burn narrative, I personally regard Texhnolyze as one of the finest works of cinematography I have ever encountered—an unflinching exploration of nihilism that leaves a lasting impact on those who delve into its depths.
Most of the time, I just want to lie down and disappear. I don’t see any meaning in most of the things I try to do. Even though I’m financially secure and well-educated, I’ve never, even for a moment, truly wanted to live in the world as it is now. I constantly feel like everything I could have, see, or achieve has already been processed, chewed up, and spat out by someone else.
I first watched this anime when I was around eight or possibly twelve years old—in the first grade of elementary school. The scene that left the strongest impression on me was the one depicting a set of unfinished railroad tracks. That might have been my first encounter with an overwhelming sense of stagnation and apathy. Because of my family background and the environment I grew up in, I spent much of my life feeling powerless. I hated most things and most people I had to deal with. This anime somehow always aligned with the way I viewed the world.
Although the overall plot isn’t extraordinarily groundbreaking, I find the two episodes focusing on the “surface” to be spectacular. Today, most people in developed countries live in warm, dry homes, enjoy relatively good health, and have better access to healthcare than ever before—yet more and more of them, especially young men, choose to end their lives. The rising level of control, increased competitiveness, and a steadily shrinking sense of individual agency strike me as profoundly depressing.
Making any money in developed countries has become ever more difficult, as every niche is already occupied, every business requires significant scale, and controlling data—and the power to process it—has become the linchpin of success, pricing ordinary people out of the market. Meanwhile, the promotion of certain ideologies, such as polygamy or simply greater sexual freedom, often leads individuals to form only temporary attachments, easily “trading partners” at the first convenient opportunity. I even sensed a nod to this dynamic within the anime itself.
In many ways, it feels as though we’re living in a sugar-coated hell—its walls made of glossy images that mask a deeper despair. The symbolism of those unfinished tracks and the suffocating atmosphere of this show continue to speak volumes about a world that seems increasingly bereft of genuine human connection.
I believe that the escalating conflict between humanity and technology, the rising levels of depression, the growing number of suicides, declining birth rates, and an increasing sense of powerlessness—even amid seemingly higher standards of living and greater prosperity in many developed countries (not only in Japan, but also in places like Poland, Germany, and other developed countries )—make this production feel more distressingly realistic with each passing year.
Rather than simply offering a bleak vision of the future, the anime now mirrors the sentiments of our present world, where technological progress does not always align with psychological and social well-being. It stands as a sobering reflection on the human condition in our modern age, where material security, paradoxically, does not guarantee happiness or a sense of purpose.
In order not to spoil unnecessarily for those who have not seen this anime but would like to see it, I will describe only one of my favorite scenes. The conversation with the empty chair that leads to suicide.
“The Empty Chair of a God Who Abandoned Everything”
One of the most haunting moments in Texhnolyze (2003) unfolds when Doctor (Doc), in a desperate bid for assistance, ventures to the surface—an area inhabited by the “first humans.” In contrast, Lux is a subterranean city historically used as a penal colony for criminals. Despite hoping to find some measure of salvation above ground, Doc instead encounters an empty chair—a silent testament to the absence of any savior, leader, or “god.”
Context and Setting
The Surface: Home to the original humans, seemingly free from the harshness of Lux yet paralyzed by their own apathy.
Lux (Underground): Once a dumping ground for criminals, now a bleak realm riddled with violence and despair.
In this scene, Doc has sought out the people on the surface, anticipating their help in salvaging Lux. Her discovery is as simple as it is devastating: not only is there nobody to answer her call, but there is a sense that those above have already surrendered any sense of responsibility or hope.
Symbolism of the Empty Chair
Abandoned Authority
The empty chair functions like a vacant throne—an emblem of authority that once could have wielded influence, guidance, or salvation. Its emptiness signals that any potential leader, deity, or governing force is absent.
Embodiment of Apathy
In many stories, a throne or seat of power might remain vacant out of respect or anticipation for a ruler’s return. Texhnolyze flips this idea on its head: the chair remains unoccupied because those who once sat there have willingly relinquished all influence. This chilling apathy underscores how the people on the surface have resigned themselves to do nothing.
Godless World
Throughout the series, Texhnolyze conveys a world devoid of hope. This scene crystallizes that bleak vision: even if a “god” or powerful figure once existed, they have long since stepped down, leaving no guiding hand for humanity. Doc’s realization that no one will rescue Lux or its inhabitants cements the show’s overarching nihilism.
Doc’s Personal Turning Point
For Doc, this encounter with the empty chair becomes a catalyst for profound despair. Up until that moment, she retained a sliver of hope: her work on Texhnolyze prosthetics, her belief in “improving” humanity, and her unspoken wish to save those still in Lux. Yet discovering that even the supposedly more “civilized” surface-dwellers have no intention of aiding her tears away the last of her faith.
Shattered Hope
Doc’s life has been defined by her pursuits: research, ambition, and a deeper need for purpose. Finding only an abandoned seat at what should be the highest seat of power or wisdom forces her to confront the utter futility of her efforts.
Nihilism Realized
This scene seals Doc’s fate, driving home the series’ central message: in a world stripped of meaning—whether on the surface or underground—no one is coming to the rescue. For Doc, who cannot abide a future devoid of hope, the realization proves fatal.
Visual Style – Artistic References and Attention to Detail
The visual style of Texhnolyze is exceptionally intriguing. Although the series is set in a dark, almost oppressive atmosphere, the creators have woven in numerous references to classic works of art. Edward Hopper’s paintings are frequently cited: the composition and color schemes in scenes depicting the “surface” bear a strong resemblance to Hopper’s iconic pieces.
Many shots look as if they’ve been lifted straight from Hopper’s canvases (for instance, Morning Sun or Railroad Sunset), giving the series a distinctive character and amplifying its sense of loneliness and melancholy—key hallmarks of Hopper’s style. Meticulous framing, subtle lighting, and careful use of color all serve to heighten Texhnolyze’s overall expressiveness. This attention to detail intensifies the viewer’s immersion: instead of superficial futurism, we encounter an intimate yet unsettling world, at once visually compelling and emotionally heavy. It’s this blend of narrative depth and artistic flair that makes Texhnolyze as much an aesthetic experience as it is a captivating story.
By contrast, the scenes set underground are notably harsh, grimy, and desolate. In many ways, they evoke the style of artists such as Zdzisław Beksiński—their bleak, dystopian sensibility and unsettling imagery mirror his fascination with decaying, otherworldly landscapes. This stark visual opposition between the surface and Lux underscores Texhnolyze’s core themes, reminding viewers that each place in this world is haunted by its own brand of despair.
there is more of it Hopper vs Texhnolyze | halfadeckshort
[Spoilers] Texhnolyze's art has many direct comparisons to Edward Hopper's paintings : r/anime
How I Created the “Texhnolyze” LoRA – Step by Step
Merging Episodes and Extracting Frames
I combined all 22 episodes into a single file to simplify processing.
Using a program, I automatically extracted a frame every X seconds from the merged file. (ffmpeg - its free and open source)
Selecting and Filtering Images
This process yielded around 4,000 screenshots.
I then manually removed duplicates, blurry frames, and anything from the openings and endings.
Ultimately, I was left with about 1,000 high-quality frames to form a solid dataset.
Choosing a Checkpoint
I opted to use Illustrious-XL, even though it’s primarily designed for colorful, upbeat characters (and adult content).
The challenge lay in adapting its “cheerful” bias to capture the dark, oppressive style of Texhnolyze.
Creating Prompts
I chose several of my favorite scenes, then automatically generated prompts at a low confidence level (e.g., 0.3).
I also added a few custom prompts by hand to emphasize key aesthetic elements.
In total, I ended up with three main prompt sets that served as the stylistic backbone for the LoRA.
Final Result
After training the LoRA on these 1,000 selected frames and the prepared prompts, I achieved the look I was aiming for.
In my opinion, this approach effectively captured the dark, claustrophobic essence of Texhnolyze, despite using a model initially geared toward a completely different aesthetic style.
Lora showcase: https://civitai.com/posts/10792841
Lora: Texhnolyze 2003 / Dark Anime Style / Studio Madhouse - V1 | Illustrious LoRA | Civitai