This Is I Plot Summary (Spoilers) + Key Scenes Explained
Spoiler warning: This post discusses story beats shown in official Netflix materials (synopsis, trailer, and preview clips) and the real-life history the film is based on. If you want to go in totally blind, stop here.
Spoiler Guide to This is I: Plot, Key Scenes, and What It All Means
This is I is a Japanese Netflix drama built around the true story behind entertainer Ai Haruna: a bullied kid with an “idol” dream, a show-pub stage that becomes a lifeline, and a doctor willing to challenge the “unspoken rules” of his time. The result is an identity story told like an “air musical” (lip-sync performance energy, big emotions, and era-defining pop songs).
Quick facts
- Where to watch: Netflix
- Release date: February 10, 2026
- Runtime: 93 minutes
- Director: Yusaku Matsumoto
- Writer: Masahiro Yamaura
- Starring: Haruki Mochizuki (Kenji / Ai), Takumi Saitoh (Dr. Koji Wada)
- Supporting cast highlights: Tae Kimura, Seiji Chihara, Ataru Nakamura, Kaito Yoshimura, MEGUMI, Shido Nakamura
Plot summary (spoilers)
The film follows Kenji Onishi, a kid who wants what society keeps telling him he’s not allowed to want: to be an idol, to be seen, to be loved as himself. The conflict isn’t just external bullying—it's the slow, daily grind of being treated like your dream is “wrong” before you even have the words to defend it.
Act 1: Kenji’s dream becomes a target
Kenji’s “idol” obsession is framed as joy at first—music, performance, imitation, sparkle—until school life turns it into a reason for cruelty. He’s pushed into hiding parts of himself, and the isolation is the point: not one big villain, but a thousand small rejections.
Act 2: The show pub becomes chosen family
Here’s the movie’s first major pivot: Kenji finds work in a show pub/cabaret space (kept secret from his parents), and it’s not played as a “fall.” It’s played as survival and community. He meets people who understand performance as protection and as truth—and he’s given a stage name: “Ai.”
The “air musical” idea clicks here. The lip-sync energy isn’t just a gimmick—it's a story language. When you can’t safely say everything out loud, you borrow a chorus the world already knows, and let it carry what you mean.
Act 3: Meeting Dr. Wada changes the stakes
Kenji’s life collides with Dr. Koji Wada, a compassionate physician with his own scars. The film’s tension sharpens here: it’s no longer only about self-expression, but about medical gatekeeping, risk, and a culture that can punish both patient and doctor for stepping outside “the way things are done.”
Act 4: A decision that remakes a life
Kenji makes a pivotal choice: becoming Dr. Wada’s first patient in a gender-affirming surgery that the film frames as taboo for its era. This isn’t treated as a magical “problem solved” moment—it’s a high-cost act of faith, and the movie keeps the focus on how lonely that leap can feel, even when you’re sure.
Act 5: Becoming Ai Haruna (and paying the price of visibility)
After the surgery and its aftermath, Kenji steps forward publicly as Ai. The story moves toward show-business visibility: the stage becomes bigger, the persona becomes sharper, and the backlash grows louder. The bond between Ai and Dr. Wada is tested—not just by the world, but by the emotional weight of being each other’s proof that change is possible.
The film’s endpoint (as suggested by official materials) is not “happily ever after,” but “I’m here.” In other words: dignity. Presence. A life that doesn’t require permission.
Key scenes explained
1) The “idol” fixation isn’t childish—it's identity practice
Early scenes of singing, copying choreography, or obsessing over pop idols do a lot of narrative work. Kenji isn’t just a fan; he’s trying on a self. In a story about dysphoria and social punishment, imitation becomes rehearsal for survival.
2) The show-pub “name” scene: why “Ai” matters
Receiving the name “Ai” is the film’s first clear moment of chosen-family validation. It’s a ritual: someone looks at Kenji and says, “I see you,” without requiring a debate. The stage name is also a boundary—Kenji gets to decide how the world meets him.
3) The red dress / first public step: the movie’s purest joy beat
In footage released ahead of the film, Ai steps out in a red dress and makeup for the first time, and the world turns into a musical around her. This scene is doing two things at once: it’s fantasy (how it feels to finally look like yourself), and it’s defiance (being visible anyway).
4) The doctor’s office scenes: the movie’s moral center
Dr. Wada isn’t written as a “savior,” but as an advocate learning in real time—risking reputation and consequences. These scenes ground the story’s big musical flourishes in something quieter: trust built in small, terrifying conversations.
5) The surgery decision: the point-of-no-return beat
The story treats the procedure as an irreversible choice and a public statement. It’s not just medical—it’s social, legal, and emotional. The film’s tension here comes from the fact that “being right for yourself” doesn’t guarantee the world will be safe.
6) The performance breakthrough: “air” as armor and truth
When Ai’s performances land, the film reframes lip-sync as a kind of authorship. She may not be singing the notes, but she’s telling the story with her body, timing, and nerve. It’s a performance style that lets her control how she’s read.
Ending explained (what the story is building toward)
Without a full post-release scene-by-scene breakdown available yet, the clearest “ending meaning” signaled by Netflix’s official framing is this: the movie ends with arrival, not closure.
Kenji becoming Ai isn’t presented as a twist—it’s the destination the film earns through repetition: bullying, hiding, found family, courage, and a medical partnership built on trust. The emotional finish line is not fame itself; it’s authenticity with dignity, even under pressure.
If you’re looking for the simplest takeaway: the ending is about living in the present as your full self—not waiting for society to become comfortable first.
Soundtrack: why the songs matter
The music choices aren’t background decoration. They’re the film’s emotional shortcuts: the fastest way to communicate era, longing, fantasy, and the kind of pop optimism that can keep someone alive when real life won’t.
Reported songs featured include:
- Seiko Matsuda — “Natsu no Tobira (The Summer Door)”, “Cherry Blossom”, “SWEET MEMORIES”
- Princess Princess — “Diamonds”
- Kumiko Yamashita — “Sekidou Komachi Doki”
- Akina Nakamori — “Slow Motion”
- The Checkers — “Ano Ko to Scandal”
- TRF — “survival dAnce ～no no cry more～”
- Anri — “Olivia wo Kikinagara (Listening to Olivia)”
- Misato Watanabe — “My Revolution”
- Aya Matsuura — “Nee~?”, “Yeah! Meccha Holiday”
Notice the pattern: these are songs tied to cultural memory. The film uses them like emotional landmarks—“this is what the world sounded like back then,” and “this is the kind of dream Kenji clung to.”
Real story vs movie: what’s true (and what’s dramatized)
Netflix has positioned This is I as a dramatization of a real relationship: Ai Haruna’s personal journey and Dr. Koji Wada’s role as a pioneer who advocated for people living with gender dysphoria. The film also draws from published books about their lives.
The biggest “true story” spine you can expect the movie to follow is: a bullied kid (Kenji) finds a stage, finds a name (Ai), meets a doctor (Wada), and takes a life-changing step that turns survival into visibility.
What’s almost certainly dramatized (because this is a film, not a documentary): timelines compressed into cleaner arcs, composite side characters, heightened confrontations, and musical sequences that translate internal feelings into external spectacle.
What Reddit reactions say about This is I
Early Reddit chatter around the trailer has a consistent vibe: curiosity about the true-story angle, nostalgia from viewers who remember Ai Haruna’s variety-show era, and interest in how boldly Netflix will depict the medical and social backlash implied by the premise.
This Is I: Netflix Global Release (Feb 2026)
by u/ in r/JDorama
FAQ
Is This is I based on a true story?
Yes. Netflix has described it as a film bringing to life the true story of Ai Haruna and Dr. Koji Wada, framed through the character Kenji Onishi (who becomes Ai).
Why does the movie lean into lip-sync (“air”) performances?
Because “air” performance is the story’s emotional grammar: it’s about being seen, being read, and controlling the narrative of your body in public. In a world that tries to tell Kenji who he is, performance becomes a way to say, “No—this is me.”
Will this be a heavy watch?
Expect both. The premise includes bullying, stigma, and backlash, but the promotional tone also emphasizes warmth, spectacle, and uplifting musical release.
Bottom line
This is I looks like a story about the cost of becoming yourself—and the rare, life-saving power of someone (a found family, a doctor, a stage) treating that self as real. If you’re here for key scenes, keep an eye on the show-pub debut, the red-dress “first step,” and every office conversation where trust is earned the hard way.