Baka's Identity Review: Fake Identities, Hard Choices, and Real Consequences

Hidden within the vast Netflix library, this feature film deserves your attention. Directed by Koto Nagata, Baka's Identity (original title: Baka no Mibun) is a 2025 Japanese drama written by Kosuke Mukai, based on the novel Orokamono no Mibun by Jun Nishio. The cast features notable names such as Takumi Kitamura, Yuta Hayashi, and Go Ayano. After premiering at the Busan International Film Festival, the film soon reached global audiences via Netflix.

Baka's Identity leans into social drama with a narrative that, while set in the world of cybercrime, seeks to expose a much deeper reality: the lives of young people without opportunities in a Japan marked by inequality. The story follows three different perspectives, including those of Takuya and Mamoru, two young men surviving by scamming others on social media.

They pose as women to lure lonely men and buy their identities and documents, which are then sold on the online black market. As the film unfolds, this game becomes intertwined with issues of loyalty, personal identity, and the moral and physical consequences of their choices.

International critics have highlighted Nagata’s ability to expose the harsh reality of those living on the fringes of the system. Reviews note that this is not a generic thriller; instead, it uses both sensitivity and occasional brutality to portray how identity and survival can be blurred and eventually destroyed in the digital age, especially for youth lacking a safety net.

Baka's Identity chooses to emphasize interpersonal connections, challenging viewers to question alongside the protagonists how thin the line truly is between victim and perpetrator.

Much of the world views Japan as a prosperous, organized, and exemplary society with a powerful economy, cutting edge technology, and urban life that functions with clockwork precision. However, this image hides deep fissures: social inequality, unstable labor markets, and the exclusion of entire segments of the population. This is one of the most striking paradoxes of contemporary Japanese society.

Since the economic bubble burst in the early 1990s, the traditional Japanese employment model began to crumble. In its place, a labor market marked by temporary contracts, part time jobs, and positions without long term security grew dramatically, a phenomenon scholars call precarious work. This trend is not unique to Japan, but it has taken an intense form there. Nearly half of the workforce now holds non regular jobs, lacking the protections that were once the norm.

These shifts have a direct impact on the social and psychological health of young people who cannot find stable employment. Many struggle to move out of their parents' homes, start families, or achieve financial independence. A well documented example is the hikikomori phenomenon, describing individuals who withdraw from society, avoiding school, work, or public activity for years. It is estimated that over 1.5 million working age people live as hikikomori.

Another term emerging from this context is freeter, describing youth who hop between low skilled, precarious jobs without prospects for a stable career or upward mobility.

The impact of these conditions is worsened by cultural standards. Japanese society highly values conformity, performance, and contribution to the group. When someone fails to fit these molds, they face a heavy stigma. This reinforces the sense of social exclusion because failing socially is often viewed as a personal failure rather than a structural issue. In extreme cases, this combination of isolation, social pressure, and lack of economic perspective has been linked to kodokushi, or lonely death, where individuals live and die alone, unnoticed for long periods.

Therefore, the image of a wealthy yet socially fragmented Japan is not a fictional cliché but a reality. National wealth does not always translate into human well being and inclusion for all.

This context provides a profound foundation for Baka's Identity, as the film immerses itself in a social reality where young people without options resort to survival strategies, even illegal ones, not because they choose the easy path, but because they often have nowhere else to go.

Despite offering a critical view of contemporary Japanese society, the film’s strength lies in showing the perspectives of the three main characters and the reasons they find themselves in this situation, particularly Mamoru and Takuya.

They are not just criminals looking for easy money; there were powerful reasons for their descent. While they benefit from this lifestyle, they are not proud or truly happy. They feel for their victims, but the drive for survival takes precedence, making the story feel very grounded.

While there is no excuse for exploiting someone else's time of need, we understand what led these young men down this path and realize that with external support, they might never have made these choices.

Takuya initially seems cold and practical, but as the story progresses, we discover how much he has sacrificed to give someone else a chance, even to the point of losing his own identity. He feels guilty that, despite his good intentions, he led his friend Mamoru down the same path. Takuya views Mamoru as a younger brother and wants to protect him at all costs.

The film avoids heavy handed exposition; it provides context without needing to overexplain, doing so very effectively. It does not need to spell everything out for the audience to understand the relationships and intentions of each character. It is subtle in how it presents their motives and bonds.

Within this subtlety, it offers a raw and sincere portrayal of a friendship that, even in such a contradictory context, makes us root for them to be okay.

Takuya is no hero, but he is someone doing his best to make amends for his mistakes, which generates immediate empathy once we get to know him. For this exact reason, watching his fate unfold is deeply distressing.

Absolutely! It was a pleasant surprise, and the film’s two hour runtime was so well paced that I barely noticed the time passing.

Just do not expect an action movie. The story is slow and contemplative, despite having several distressing and aggressive scenes. It is not meant to make your heart race; it is meant to make your chest feel heavy.

Rating: 4.4 out of 5.

Now tell me: are you interested in films like Baka's Identity that explore moral decisions and show how every choice carries a price, or do you prefer fast paced plots where action speaks louder than reflection?