How does ‘Identity’ use multiple personalities to depict liberation from one’s own repression?

In this blog post, I will examine how ‘Identity’ utilizes the theme of multiple personalities while cloaked in the guise of a crime thriller, and discuss the film’s unique genre characteristics and significance through an exploration of the interplay between reality and fiction, as well as comparisons with other films featuring multiple personalities.

 

A Genre Analysis of ‘Identity’ and the Conventions of the Crime Thriller

When I went up the stairs, I met someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. He wasn’t there today either. I wish he would just disappear.
In a broad sense, a thriller is a type of suspense drama, commonly found in horror and macabre films, as well as crime and detective stories; it combines elements that evoke a sense of fear specific to each genre. It can be described as a genre that focuses less on the source of fear and more on depicting the process by which the audience becomes immersed in that fear.
“Identity” is a film about multiple personalities cloaked in the genre of a crime thriller. As seen in films such as “Janghwa Hongryeon,” “Hide and Seek,” and “Fight Club,” the theme of multiple personalities is primarily used in horror and thriller films. Throughout their lives, people are constantly curious about new aspects of themselves that lie dormant in their subconscious. By depicting encounters with the myriad selves within—encounters with entities that even we ourselves are unaware of but that constantly exist within us—these films allow viewers to experience vicarious satisfaction of their curiosity through the multiple personalities, who embody the concept of “me meeting myself.”
This film exemplifies the typical conventions of both the crime thriller and the multiple-personality genres; here, I will focus primarily on the multiple-personality aspect. This is because the film maintains the typical structure of a crime thriller—such as a narrative that plunges the audience into fear, a setting with torrential rain, dim lighting, and mise-en-scène featuring blood-soaked corpses—leading viewers to believe it is merely a crime thriller, thereby maximizing the impact of the plot twist in the latter half. Therefore, I do not believe it is important to analyze the crime thriller genre itself.
A representative narrative structure of films about multiple personalities is the construction of a dual worldview. This dual worldview can be divided into two axes: the real world and the virtual world. In the early part of the film, the real-world axis is almost entirely ignored, and the story progresses based on the virtual axis—which is supernatural and indeterminate, making it all the more appealing to the audience. Since the plausibility linking these two axes is not revealed from the start, reality and the virtual are presented not as opposing forces but as being in a state of equilibrium—or even as unrelated events listed one after another. While the overall narrative unfolds within the virtual space, the audience is led to believe it is reality, thereby drawing them deeper into the story.
It possesses the characteristics of a classic twist film, delivering both a thrill and a chill to the deeply immersed audience by revealing that the world shown thus far is a fabrication, and that the real-world space—which had only been partially depicted in the film—is actually the core of the story. Since the twist is the lifeblood of this genre, how it is presented is crucial. Maximizing the impact of the twist depends on how plausibly and meticulously the relationship between the two dimensions is established.
‘Identity’ employs a classic twist structure similar to ‘The Sixth Sense’. It dedicates a brief moment early on to briefly show the real-world setting, laying the groundwork for a key revelation. However, for the remainder of the film, it primarily uses thriller and horror conventions to draw the audience so deeply into the story that they momentarily forget this foreshadowing—only to reveal all the narrative elements that tie back to it in the finale. In this film, before the twist is revealed, it follows the conventions of a crime thriller set in an isolated space.
Eleven people gather at a motel. The diverse group—which includes a prisoner—heightens the dramatic tension. Subsequently, one of the 11 women is murdered in a gruesome manner. Furthermore, when it becomes clear that the killer has escaped, the film hints to the audience that the prisoner might be the one responsible for the murder.
However, as victims continue to appear one after another, the prisoner—whom they had believed to be the culprit—is also murdered, plunging the case into mystery. Subsequently, it is believed that the victims’ deaths were not caused by humans, but rather by the wrath of spirits whose ancestral graves were destroyed to build the motel. The story takes a dramatic turn when it is revealed that the detective leading the investigation is actually another prisoner, not a police officer. As the root cause of the incident is uncovered, extreme conflict among the characters leads to the deaths of everyone except for one woman.
This trope is also a recurring theme in the comic series ‘Kim Jeon-il, the Boy Detective’. Although it is a crime thriller set in an all-too-predictable, isolated situation, this film masterfully combines the concept of multiple personalities with the crime thriller genre, and the intricate interplay between these two elements makes the overall story stand out.
In an isolated setting, it appears that a single survivor has emerged and all tensions have been resolved; however, true to the production company’s tagline—“When the movie ends, a new horror begins”—the film suddenly unleashes all the plot devices that have been building up, revealing an unexpected conclusion: the entire process was a battle within the mind of the person with multiple personalities—a struggle between his various selves. This maximizes the sense of horror for the audience.

 

Not a Separation from Myself, but an Encounter with Myself

As mentioned earlier, the reason this film is regarded as unique and entertaining despite following typical thriller conventions is that it builds upon the theme of multiple personalities with a solid screenplay. Consequently, films about multiple personalities must skillfully construct the relationship between reality and virtual space. This is because the audience’s ability to empathize depends on how convincing the narrative established up to that point is during the final stage of the virtual world’s destruction.
This film features a seamless interaction between reality and the virtual world through overall allusions and symbolism, which amplified the shock caused by the destruction of the virtual space. Furthermore, unlike conventional multiple-personality films—where the self typically manifests as two or three distinct entities, each functioning as an independent individual—this film depicts an encounter with “another self.” At the same time, the conflict between the good and evil selves, the fact that the childhood self kills the self embodying his mother, and the eventual scenario where the childhood self kills all the other selves are specific details that set this film apart from previous works.
The reason this film is considered a masterpiece among twist-ending and multiple-personality films is the strong connection between the real world and the virtual world. Throughout the film, the real and virtual worlds constantly interact, leaving meaningful foreshadowing for the audience. Even if viewers do not recognize these clues while watching, the process of retracing their memories and piecing together the foreshadowing once everything is revealed delivers a new sense of horror.
Furthermore, these interactions are seamlessly woven into the narrative, and by revealing them bit by bit—much like solving a puzzle—they gradually heighten the suspense felt by the audience.
Examining the interaction between reality and the virtual world through symbols and narrative devices, the motel can be seen as a fantastical space that mirrors the protagonist’s inner psyche. Born to a prostitute, the protagonist endured an oppressive childhood. Because he was confined to the motel throughout his childhood, those memories remain embedded in his subconscious. The 11 characters find themselves in a situation where they cannot escape the motel no matter how hard they try; in other words, the motel can be described as a fantastical space that mirrors the protagonist’s inner world.
All 11 people share the same birthday and are named after places in the United States, a sign suggesting they are derived from a single self.
Timothy is the alter ego that embodies the protagonist’s childhood; ultimately, he can be described as the protagonist’s most intrinsic attribute. Suppressed by his mother—who was a prostitute—and by the world’s oppression during his childhood, he is a character who, like Peter Pan, has refused to grow up, allowing only his hatred to grow.
The persona the protagonist mistakenly believes to be his own true self is “Ed.” Consequently, he believes that “Ed” once worked as a detective and is now taking a leave of absence due to guilt over failing to prevent a suicide. In his imagination, “Ed” is the most righteous and works tirelessly to protect others. He is the quintessential role model the protagonist aspires to be and represents the benevolent presence within the protagonist.
“Rose” is an evil entity in opposition to “Ed,” whom the psychiatrist identifies as the source of the protagonist’s homicidal tendencies. In the battle between good and evil, it initially appears that good will prevail, but Rose is ultimately eliminated by a newly emerging evil. This implies that the deep-rooted evil stemming from a traumatic childhood experience is the root of all evil.

 

“The Three Faces of Eve” and “Identity”: The Evolution of Multiple Personality Films

“The Three Faces of Eve” (1957) was the first film to explore the theme of multiple personalities. One interesting fact is that, although it is considered the pioneer of the genre, watching it again today reveals how different it is from the multiple personality films we are familiar with today.
‘The Three Faces of Eve’ follows a woman named Eve, who possesses three distinct personalities, as she undergoes treatment from a doctor and strives to recover from her condition and find happiness as a whole person. This is because, in the early days, the mental disorder known as multiple personality disorder was not widely known to the public, so simply addressing the subject was enough to pique the audience’s interest.
Later, with the emergence of Hitchcock, the new genre of the thriller was born, and the concept of multiple personalities was adapted to suit the thriller genre. In fact, one could argue that the concept of multiple personalities is inherently well-suited to thrillers and horror.
Films about multiple personalities released since the 1990s have largely settled into a fixed formula, using the concept merely as a device to create dramatic scenes. So where does this difference in how the theme is utilized stem from?
Notable films featuring multiple personalities since the 1990s include ‘Fight Club’, ‘Extension’, ‘Primal Fear’, and ‘The Red Shoes’. It appears that a significant number of such films have emerged over the past decade or so. The fact that so many of these films are being produced recently clearly demonstrates that there is a demand from audiences.
If we ask why audiences enjoy films featuring multiple personalities, the answer is closely related to the question of why people enjoy horror. Regarding why people watch horror films, Robin Wood, borrowing from Freud, described it as “a return from the repressed.”
Since humans live in society, they cannot unconditionally express their desires in order to coexist with others. Desires suppressed by the self do not disappear but lie dormant in the unconscious, and people seek to release these repressed desires in whatever form possible. Within the limits where it is guaranteed to be fantasy, the eruption of forbidden desires can provide catharsis.
As we’ve entered modern society, society has become increasingly diverse and the world is changing rapidly; to survive, one must constantly change oneself. Furthermore, in such a highly diversified society, people present different facades depending on their social position, and they may also display different behaviors depending on who they are interacting with and the situation at hand.
In this rapidly changing and pluralistic world, people are curious and confused about which of their many personas represents their true self. This is why, when watching a movie about multiple personalities, I find myself asking whether I, too, might have multiple personalities, identifying with the protagonist, and reflecting on my true self—this is the reason I watch such films.
An even more distinct reason is the sense of liberation they provide. In horror films, the object of repression is often portrayed as a monster—a creature with an abnormal appearance and immense destructive power that sets out to destroy the society that oppresses it. While we fear the monster’s appearance and destructive power, we also feel a sense of catharsis in witnessing it destroy the very society that oppresses us.
The form of the monster varies depending on the era and society. In early American films, monsters were depicted as coming from the unknown world of outer space to destroy the Earth. Later, however, the father who returned from the Vietnam War having committed acts of slaughter became the most terrifying figure, leading to a shift in the cinematic paradigm: monsters were no longer from outer space but were being raised within the home.
The realization that the monster is not from outer space but rather the home—the place one feels most comfortable—and the family with whom one shares the closest bond was nothing short of shocking. Films about multiple personalities can also be said to expand upon this context. In such films, the monster of our time does not come from outer space or the home; it is ultimately a part of oneself, embedded within one’s own mind.
Ultimately, it instills a sense of terror in the reality that one’s self is the most terrifying entity and that one cannot even trust oneself. The premise that a person ultimately commits the very crime they witnessed being committed by a murderer is enough to provide both catharsis and a chilling sense of dread to modern people who are unconsciously developing multiple personalities.
To quote Freud, consciousness is merely a thin surface of the entire mind; just as most of an iceberg lies beneath the water’s surface, he viewed the majority of the mind as existing in the unconscious beneath the surface of consciousness. Furthermore, Freud divided the structure of human personality into the id, the ego, and the superego: the id represents instinctual drives; the ego represents the effort to resolve those drives in a realistic and logical manner; and the superego represents conscience, guilt, and morality.
Throughout life, humans are raised to be governed by the superego. However, even if the superego dominates the entire psyche, the id and ego do not disappear but remain repressed within this structure. People are interested in multiple personality films because they themselves can sense the unconscious part—which constitutes the majority of the “iceberg.”
The creation of multiple personality films can be attributed to the expression of dissatisfaction with the superego that suppresses the self, as well as dissatisfaction with the society that shapes the superego. Therefore, multiple personality films can be described as a form of liberation from the self.

 

Are Multiple Personality Films Pioneering a New Genre, or Are They on the Verge of Disappearance?

While analyzing these films, I found that categorizing the multiple personality film genre solely as a crime thriller or a twist film had its limitations. This is because they depict a world that does not exist in reality in a way that feels intimately connected to reality.
Although they possess elements of fantasy—since they devote most of their runtime to depicting the invisible realm—even when multiple-personality films subvert the boundaries between reality and unreality, the disconnect between the two is smaller than in any other fantasy genre.
While fantasy worlds often depict realms that do not actually exist in reality—thereby lacking a strong connection to reality—multiple personality films demonstrate a close integration of reality and fiction by effortlessly traversing between the two through the concept of multiple personalities.
Furthermore, in the moments when audiences—through “fantastical” elements—hesitate, feeling both surprise and fear as they weigh the events against their own reality and supernatural explanations, this closeness to reality lends the film its overall persuasiveness. For example, when a fictional space is destroyed, a conclusion stating, “It was all a dream” is far less grounded in reality than one stating, “It all took place inside the mind of the person with multiple personalities.”
Multiple personalities can be said to have a stronger sense of reality than the medium of dreams. Therefore, I believe films about multiple personalities can secure an appropriate middle ground between fantasy and reality.
However, it is true that since the 1990s, movies about multiple personalities have followed an overly formulaic narrative structure. There is a need to break free from this clichéd structure: “A terrifying, immersive event occurs, but later, when looking in the mirror, the viewer realizes they were the one who caused it.”
The survival of the multiple-personality film genre hinges on how diversely this structure—much like the clichéd structure of romantic stories—can be expressed.

 

About the author

Tra My

I’m a pretty simple person, but I love savoring life’s little pleasures. I enjoy taking care of myself so I can always feel confident and look my best in my own way. I’m passionate about traveling, exploring new places, and capturing memorable moments. And of course, I can’t resist delicious food—eating is a serious pleasure of mine.