Positive I.D.

In the quiet suburbs of Dallas, the aftermath of a brutal assault hangs over Julie Kenner like a relentless storm. A year has passed, yet the echo of that night still reverberates through her daily routine, turning ordinary moments into reminders of vulnerability. Rather than retreat into the role of a passive survivor, she is determined to rewrite the narrative of her life, seeking a sense of autonomy that the trauma has stripped away.

Julie’s answer lies in the radical practice of assuming other people’s identities. By borrowing strangers’ names, birth dates, and fragments of their histories, she crafts a series of alternate selves that allow her to step outside the confines of her own pain. Each persona becomes a temporary shelter, a way to test the boundaries of who she can be when the weight of her own story is momentarily set aside. The process is both meticulously organized and deeply unsettling, hinting at a fragile balance between empowerment and escapism.

Her marriage to Don Kenner has grown tense, a relationship strained by unspoken grief and the quiet desperation that fuels Julie’s experiments. Their home, once a haven, now feels like a stage where roles shift and emotions are guarded. Across the street, the charismatic neighbor Dana offers a starkly different viewpoint, challenging Julie’s perception of victimhood and sparking further conflict. Meanwhile, regular sessions with a psychiatrist provide a clinical backdrop to her inner turmoil, underscoring the contrast between therapeutic support and Julie’s self‑directed, perilous quest for control.

The film’s tone is a brooding blend of psychological thriller and character study, painting Dallas with a muted, almost claustrophobic palette that mirrors Julie’s internal landscape. As she slips from one fabricated identity to another, the audience is invited to contemplate the delicate line between reclaiming power and losing oneself in the endless pursuit of an ever‑shifting self. The story lingers on the question of whether reinventing who we are can truly heal the wounds that shape us.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 15:46