What makes the art of cinema so compelling is that it instrumentalizes the Lacanian assertion that truth can only have the structure of fiction. While a filmic narrative is a fictional fabrication, it also functions as an envelope for different kinds of truths – subjective truths, societal truths, psychological truths. Or, to put it differently, one can only construct a fictional narrative with building blocks found within reality.

Koto Nagata’s Baka’s Identity, based on Jun Nishio’s Orokamono no Mibun (2019), might be a fictional narrative, its structure is determined by real social issues, by dark hidden truths the Japanese Other does not want (anyone) to see. By utilizing these issues, Nagata does not only signal the failure of the societal Other, but also touches upon the logic and the dynamic that drives people into the groping arms of crime.   

The narrative introduces the spectator to Mamoru Kakizaki (Yuya Hayashi), a young guy who sits and lies around with a variety of cell-phones, all labelled with a different woman’s name – Kurumi, Akane, Ririka, Maria, Yuka, around him. Whenever a message arrives, he promptly takes the phone to write a seductive response. These impersonating acts are all part of the illegal identity-lending business he works for. Having done these simple tasks for a while, he is all but eager when Takuya Matsumoto (Takumi Kitamura), his senior and sole friend, asks him to take on more responsibilities. Yet, a darker reason lies behind Takuya’s sudden decision to entrust his partner with the business.

Baka’s identity surprises the spectator with an effective narrative structure. The story is told in three parts, two non-chronological ones and one chronological. The first two parts – the perspective of Mamoru and Takuya – offer the spectator a puzzle-like structure where the smart associative interplay of signifiers and acts slowly sketches out the subjective logic of the main characters and deepens the narrative’s thematical currents: the subjective and relational darkness – the dangerous cocktail of trauma, conflict, financial struggle and criminal exploitation – that lies hidden beneath behind the thin veil of societal harmony. The third part – the perspective of Kenji Kajitani (Go Ayano) – continues where the two previous parts roughly ended, slowly building up to the finale (Structure-note 1).   

The benefit of this kind of structure is that the spectator, despite knowing where the three main chess-pieces are located, is unable to guess how the narrative’s chess-mate will realize itself. We, who are left guessing, remain compelled, letting ourselves willingly drift on the flow of the narrative to discover its terminal point.

Thematically speaking, Baka’s Identity explores the interaction between poverty and criminality. Yet, to truly grasp something about thematical fabric of Baka’s identity, one must realize what remains visually absent: fathers, mothers, and strong familial bonds. The signifiers Mamoru utters concerning his familial past paint a troubling image of dysfunctional oedipal structures – a disruptive truth that haunts the subjective logic of the subject.

What the films shows is that subjects who are floating around in the societal field due to the lack of strong social bonds often wash ashore near the groping hands of subjects, who under the pretext of lending a hand, seek to entrap them into a position of dependency, a position where they can be continually profited from.

While Nagata critiques the capitalistic thirst of exploiting others that sustains the societal fabric and signals the way the Other – the network of societal institutions – fails some of its subjects, one must, first and foremost, read Baka’s identity as a tragedy of social detachment and the desire for recognition. It is because young subjects chase such desire – seeking social connection in a societal fabric that is too loose to hold and support them – that they render themselves vulnerable to the criminal intentions of others and the seductive glint of money (Narra-note 1).

The narrative element of the identity-lending business adds more depth to the thematical fabric of the film. At first glance, the little business only seems to seek to exploit the phallic desire of men – my desirability for the female other. Some spectators might object that such dynamic is not always in play by pointing out that the first victim of the scam does not hide his financial lack for Kisara (Mizuki Yamashita), the beautiful girl who sits in front of him. Yet, the mere fact that he lets himself be duped by ‘female’ signifiers signals the presence of such desire. His openness concerning his financial lack must be read as an unconscious attempt to discover whether he, as subject, can be desired by the female Other. In other words, he seeks a deceiving female mirror that can seductively erase what cannot be erased, the structural state of lacking.    

Yet, it soon becomes evident in the Baka’s Identity that the reliance on male phallic desire only serves to attract targets-who-are-lacking and what they aim to exploit is their precarious financial situation. By utilizing this lack, Kisara, Takuya and Mamoru can trick them into giving up their identity for a one-time sum of money. Of course, the true profit for the illegal business lies in the selling of identities to subjects who seek to erase themselves from the symbolic field, to temporarily sever the link between their face and their name within the Other.

The emphasis on this kind of business in Baka’s identity serves to underline that, while one can assume a different name to escape the prying eye of the Other, one cannot escape one’s own subjective logic. One will always carry one’s bag of neurosis and complexes around. One can flee from threatening external forces – e.g. loan-sharks, police-officers, yakuza, … etc. – by assuming a different name, yet one cannot erase one’s unconsciousness, the inner Other who determines our logic and animates our signifiers and acts.     

The composition of Baka’s identity is quite straightforward. Despite a few exceptions, Nagata utilizes static shots and slow spatial dynamic shots to frame speech-interactions or moments where the emphasis lies on the signifier and tracking dynamism to emphasize the movement of the character-in-focus. 

There is, however, one compositional element that stands out in Nagata’s composition: the interweaving of fleeting moments of rough dynamism into the visual fabric. While certain shifts to such dynamism merely serves to add some compositional variety, others are utilized to either accentuate the very fact that the illegal nature of certain interactions must be kept hidden from the eye of the societal Other or to visualize the inner-tension of the character-in-focus – the shaky frame echoing the shakiness of the ego within a given situation (Cine-note 1).    

Besides utilizing shaky framing, Nagata also relies on decorating certain moments with threatening sounds to strengthen the dramatic turns and heighten the tension within the unfolding of the narrative. These decorations, by functioning as ominous signs, also help in keeping the spectator engaged with the harrowing subjective trajectories of Mamoru, Takuya and Kenji Kajitani. 

Baka’s Identity offers the spectator a saddening but entertaining portrait of what the Japanese Other does not want anyone to see: the unsavoury marriage between crime and capitalism, a criminal thirst lingering behind the image of societal harmony seeking to feed on ‘children’ who are failed by the system. Highly recommended.   

Notes

Narra-note 1: However, as the ending proves, the film is not merely a tragedy, but also a subdued celebration of the importance of familial-like bonds.  

Structure-note 1: The insertion of a flashback-sequence ensures that the third chapter has the same effect as the previous chapters, adding new signifiers and acts that, via associative interlinking, further develop certain characters and their subjective logic.  

Cine-note 1: Later in the narrative, shaky framing is utilized to accentuate the emotional dimension of the imagery, an effect of the associative interplay of signifiers and acts of the concatenation of different perspectives.