Spoiler Alert: This review contains major spoilers. Seriously. Almost the entire drama is one giant identity puzzle, so if you haven't watched it yet—consider yourself warned.
My Drama Desk Rating: 7/10
Quick Info
- Title: Mousetrap (들쥐 / Deuljwi)
- Based on: the Kakao webtoon Field Mouse by Ludovico
- Episodes: 10
- Genre: Mystery Thriller, Psychological Thriller, Crime
- Director: Kim Hong-sun
- Writer: Lee Jae-gon
- Starring: Ryu Jun-yeol, Sul Kyung-gu, Lee Kyu-hyung
- Where to Watch: Netflix
A Premise That Immediately Gives You Anxiety
There are dramas that slowly pull you into their mystery.
And then there is Mousetrap.
A drama that throws you straight into complete confusion from Episode 1 and basically looks at you and says:
"Figure it out."
Good luck.
Je Moon-jae is a reclusive writer who has spent years hiding away from the world. His life follows the same quiet routine every day until suddenly, everything begins falling apart.
His fingerprint no longer unlocks his phone.
His passwords stop working.
His accounts are no longer accessible.
The people handling his affairs disappear.
And somehow, the things proving that he is actually Je Moon-jae are slowly being taken away from him.
Then comes the most terrifying part.
Someone else appears.
With his name.
His identity.
And eventually...
His face.
Someone calling himself "The Rat" seems to have taken everything from him.
Moon-jae's search eventually brings him to No-ja, a ruthless loan shark he owed money to before disappearing. No-ja had been hunting him for three years over that debt, long before any of this started.
Two men.
Two completely different lives.
Neither of them particularly trustworthy.
But both needing answers.
The question sounds simple:
Who is the Rat?
And honestly?
Watching Episode 1, I felt like I was the one about to have a panic attack.
WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! — The First Six Episodes, Basically
The whole first episode had me confused.
I had questions.
A LOT of questions.
And almost the entire time, I was already asking:
"Who the hell are you?!"
I was frustrated the same way Je Moon-jae was frustrated.
Then, at the end of Episode 1, another man claiming to be Je Moon-jae appears.
And there I was, sitting in front of my screen answering in my head:
"Geurae... neoneun nuguseyo?! WHO ARE YOU?!"
As early as Episode 1, my brain was already creating theories.
Is this going to be like Forgotten?
Is this DID?
Is someone pretending?
Is everyone lying?
Or am I the one losing my mind?
Hmmmmmm.
As the episodes went on, the questions only multiplied.
Who the hell are you?
Why them?
How are they connected?
Who is telling the truth?
Eventually, I reached the point where I no longer knew which Je Moon-jae I could trust.
Every episode, without fail, I remember thinking out loud:
"Jinjja nugunde?!"
Seriously.
WHO ARE YOU?!
And the crazy part?
It takes roughly six episodes before the show really starts handing out answers.
Six episodes.
Out of ten.
Imagine spending more than half the drama questioning everyone's identity and trying to figure out what the actual twist even is.
Since Netflix dropped the entire season at once, there's nothing stopping you from bingeing straight through the confusion—but pace yourself.
Because it is A LOT to hold inside your head at once.
My brain was working overtime.
Why a Rat?
One thing that makes Mousetrap even more interesting is the folklore behind the story.
The drama draws inspiration from an old Korean folktale involving a rat that eats a person's discarded fingernails and eventually transforms into that person.
And suddenly...
The Rat makes a lot more sense.
Because this isn't simply a story about someone stealing another person's name.
It's about something much more disturbing.
Transformation.
Taking pieces of someone's life until eventually, you can no longer tell where one person ends and another begins.
A name can be stolen.
A face can be changed.
An identity can be copied.
And in the world of Mousetrap, even the evidence proving who you are can disappear.
When you think about the drama through that folklore, the entire story becomes more unsettling.
Because throughout the series, everyone seems to be taking something.
A name.
A story.
An identity.
A life.
And sometimes...
They become the very thing they were trying to destroy.
Episode 7 Finally Gives Us Answers... Then Takes Them Back
By Episode 7, we finally started getting answers.
Or at least...
We thought we did.
Because Mousetrap was clearly not done confusing us yet.
Episode 8 gives us more of Seo Yu-min's story, and I thought:
"Okay. Finally. We're getting somewhere."
BUT BEFORE THE EPISODE EVEN ENDS—
Confusion again.
I honestly don't even know how many times I said:
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
"IGE MWOYA?!"
"JINJJAAAA?!"
out loud while watching this drama.
Then Episode 9 comes along and basically says:
"You thought you understood the story? That's cute."
Suddenly, we're confused all over again about who is who.
And at that point, I was literally screaming:
"YAAAAAA! GEUMANHAEEEE!"
STOP.
PLEASE.
MY BRAIN NEEDS A BREAK.
And then the final episode gives us another layer.
Another truth.
Another version of the past.
Honestly?
CRAAAAAZYYY.
But this is where I realized that maybe the drama wasn't really interested in giving us one simple answer.
Because by the end, the question isn't just:
"Who is the real Je Moon-jae?"
The bigger question becomes:
What actually makes someone who they are?
So... Who Is Who, Actually?
After spending almost the entire drama asking:
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
We finally get answers.
Well.
Mostly.
Because this drama somehow explains things and still leaves you sitting there thinking:
"Wait. Let me process that again."
Sun-yong: The Man Who Didn't Think He Was Meant to Have a Family
Sun-yong's story was one of the parts that stayed with me emotionally.
His connection to the larger identity mystery goes back to a complicated past. As a child, he was adopted by a couple who couldn't have a biological child of their own and named him Je Moon-jae.
But when that same couple eventually had a biological son, Sun-yong was given up and sent back to the orphanage.
That biological son is the man we spend most of the show following as Je Moon-jae.
Imagine being given a family...
Only to lose it the moment they got the child they'd actually wanted.
Because of this, Sun-yong grew up believing that maybe he simply wasn't meant to have a family.
Which makes his situation at the beginning of the drama even sadder.
He was already going through problems with his wife.
He believed he wasn't a good husband.
He believed he wasn't a good father.
But throughout the drama, he begins to rethink what family actually means.
Especially after reconnecting with pieces of the past he didn't even remember he had.
There was a phrase that stayed with him:
"The beginning of the end."
At first, he thought it simply meant something was coming to an end.
But eventually, he began to understand it differently.
Sometimes things begin at the end.
Sun-yong believed his family had reached the end of the road.
But what if the end wasn't really the end?
What if it was another opportunity to begin again?
Near the end of the drama, he admits that he failed as a husband and father and asks his wife for another chance to rebuild what's left of their family.
We never really get a neat answer.
And honestly?
I think that worked.
Because unlike some of the characters who spent the entire drama running away from their past, Sun-yong was finally willing to look at his mistakes and say:
"If I get another chance, I'll do better."
No-ja: The Man Who Somehow Survived EVERYTHING
Now let's talk about No-ja.
Honestly?
How do I even describe this man?
Former gang leader.
Loan shark.
Private investigator.
Professional survivor, apparently.
No-ja had lent Je Moon-jae money before all of this started—and Moon-jae disappeared with it.
That betrayal completely changed No-ja's life.
He eventually began working as a private investigator, tracking down people hiding because of gambling debts.
And for THREE YEARS, he searched for Je Moon-jae.
So when Moon-jae suddenly reappeared and needed help finding the Rat, No-ja naturally became involved.
At first, their partnership was simple.
No-ja wanted his money back.
Moon-jae wanted his life back.
Easy.
Except...
Nothing about this drama was easy.
The two went through one crazy situation after another.
And can we please talk about how much No-ja suffered in this drama?
The man was:
Hurt.
Stabbed.
Beaten.
Captured.
Nearly killed more times than I could emotionally handle.
And every single time something happened to him, I was sitting there asking:
"WHAT NOW?!"
"EOTTEOKHAE?!"
But somehow...
HE. ALWAYS. SURVIVES.
Crazy, isn't it?
But beyond all the chaos, I genuinely loved the bond that developed between No-ja and Moon-jae.
What began as a partnership based on money slowly became something else.
There was genuine concern.
There was loyalty.
And despite everything, they began looking out for each other.
Especially when they had to separate to mislead the police.
Moon-jae didn't want No-ja getting hurt because of him.
And No-ja was willing to take risks so Moon-jae could continue searching for answers.
One moment that really stood out to me was when No-ja essentially told Moon-jae that he couldn't simply accept being fake.
That no matter how difficult or shitty his life was...
He needed to be the real one.
Because imagine fighting that hard for your life only to discover that the identity you were fighting for might not even belong to you.
But No-ja doesn't walk away from this story completely unscathed.
After everything he survives, his final confrontation leaves him permanently affected.
Which honestly makes his ending feel more meaningful.
He refuses Moon-jae's money and chooses to return to his hometown, starting over with a much simpler life instead of going back to the world he came from.
And honestly?
After everything that man survived...
HE DESERVED A PEACEFUL LIFE.
Please.
Let him rest.
Seung-gyu: The Man Who Chose to Stay the Same
Seung-gyu used to work under No-ja.
He looked up to him.
He wanted to become like him.
But eventually, their lives went in completely different directions.
While No-ja wanted to escape his past and build another life, Seung-gyu went deeper into the criminal world.
He became connected to the identity laundering operation behind much of the story.
And honestly, behind all the "WHO ARE YOU?!" confusion was something genuinely dark.
People weren't simply losing their names.
Identities had become something that could be bought.
Sold.
Stolen.
And used.
No-ja's detective work was also connected to this dangerous system.
He was sent to find people hiding because of debts.
And when those people couldn't pay?
The consequences were terrifying.
Their identities could be taken.
Their lives could be destroyed.
The confrontation between No-ja and Seung-gyu towards the end was interesting because No-ja essentially gave him an opportunity to stop.
To walk away.
To start over.
But Seung-gyu couldn't.
And even at the end, he was still chasing the same things.
Still chasing the money.
Still chasing Moon-jae.
Sometimes people are given the opportunity to start over.
Not everyone chooses it.
Seo Yu-min: The Man Behind the Revenge
And then we have Seo Yu-min.
The man pretending to be Je Moon-jae.
Or perhaps more accurately...
The man who believed Je Moon-jae stole his life first.
Seo Yu-min changed his appearance.
He underwent surgery to look like Moon-jae.
And once his story was revealed, his obsession with taking Moon-jae's identity started to make more sense.
Back in college, Seo Yu-min and Min-yeong were in a relationship, and both were connected to the same writing circle Moon-jae had inserted himself into.
Moon-jae grew jealous.
And his actions eventually contributed to devastating consequences for the people around him.
But that wasn't the only thing Moon-jae took from Seo Yu-min.
Because Yu-min was also the real writer behind the work that made Moon-jae successful.
Moon-jae stole Yu-min's writing and published it under his own name.
Imagine someone stealing:
Your work.
Your future.
The person you loved.
Your opportunities.
Your life.
Suddenly, Yu-min's obsession with taking Je Moon-jae's identity begins to make sense.
Of course, understanding someone's pain doesn't justify the things they do afterward.
Yu-min becomes responsible for his own crimes and choices.
But the drama makes sure we understand that this wasn't a simple story about an innocent victim randomly being targeted.
There was history.
There was pain.
And there were consequences that had been building for years.
Near the end, Yu-min leaves behind a manuscript for the second volume of The Rat.
A confession.
His version of the story.
The truth behind what happened.
And the things Moon-jae would rather keep buried forever.
Je Moon-jae: A Man Who Believed His Own Lies
The entire story revolves around Je Moon-jae.
And what makes his character fascinating is that after creating so many lies...
He eventually started believing them himself.
The drama gives us hints involving his panic attacks, medication, trauma, and the possibility that parts of his past had been buried, distorted, or forgotten.
Which made his journey interesting.
Because from the beginning...
Even he didn't completely know whether he was the victim or the villain.
He was searching for answers just like we were.
But the more answers we received...
The more complicated everything became.
The biggest twist isn't simply discovering who stole Moon-jae's identity in the present.
It's realizing that Moon-jae himself had spent years building his name, his success, and his reputation on things that never truly belonged to him.
And eventually, even after reclaiming his identity...
He still wasn't free.
Because proving something legally doesn't necessarily make it morally right.
Moon-jae spent so much of the series desperately asking:
"Who am I?"
But when he finally got an answer...
He still wasn't free from the person he had been.
The Real Mystery Was Never Just "Who Is Je Moon-jae?"
After spending almost ten episodes screaming:
WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!
I started thinking that maybe Mousetrap was never really asking us to find one simple answer.
Because what actually makes someone who they are?
Their name?
Their face?
Their memories?
Their family?
Their work?
Their accomplishments?
We live in a time when so much of our identity exists digitally.
One fingerprint unlocks your phone.
Your phone holds your bank accounts.
Your photos.
Your messages.
Your work.
Your entire life.
So what happens when suddenly that fingerprint doesn't work anymore?
When someone else has your face?
Your name?
Your money?
And everyone around you believes they are you?
That is honestly one of the most disturbing ideas in Mousetrap.
Because Moon-jae isn't simply fighting to get his apartment or money back.
He is fighting to prove that he exists.
But then the drama slowly turns that question back on him.
Does he really deserve to claim that identity?
Because as we learn more about his past, we discover that Moon-jae himself had taken things that didn't belong to him.
A name.
Stories.
Opportunities.
A life that should have belonged to someone else.
And suddenly, the man hunting the Rat isn't as different from the Rat as we originally thought.
Because perhaps...
He was the Rat long before Yu-min ever put on his face.
And THAT, for me, is probably one of the most interesting ideas in the drama.
Everyone is chasing someone.
Everyone is hiding something.
Everyone wants something that belongs to someone else.
At some point, I honestly stopped asking:
"Who is the real Je Moon-jae?"
And started asking:
"Does being the real Je Moon-jae even mean anything anymore?"
Because by the time we reach the end, names have been stolen.
Faces have been changed.
Memories have been buried.
Stories have been taken.
And identities have been traded.
So who gets to decide who you really are?
Maybe that's the real trap.
You can steal someone's name.
You can copy their face.
You can take their money.
You can even take credit for their work.
But eventually...
You're still left with yourself.
And sometimes...
That's the person you can't escape.
The Ending: And Here We Go Again...
By the end of the drama, Moon-jae returns to his apartment.
But nothing is really the same.
Seo Yu-min has left behind a manuscript for the second volume of The Rat.
A manuscript containing truths about Moon-jae's past—the things he'd rather bury.
His editor knows.
The truth exists.
And for Moon-jae, that becomes another problem.
He attempts to take control of the story.
To write.
To create his own version of what happens next.
One that allows him to control the narrative.
But there is a painful irony to this.
The man who built his reputation as a successful writer now struggles to write.
And that raises another uncomfortable question.
Was he ever really the writer everyone believed he was?
Then we return to the apartment.
Someone begins pounding aggressively on the door.
Moon-jae grabs a knife and approaches.
And once again...
The past seems to be waiting for him.
Whether you interpret what Moon-jae sees literally or as a manifestation of guilt and paranoia, the message feels clear.
No matter what he manages to reclaim on paper...
He cannot completely escape what happened.
Moon-jae may have gotten his life back.
But peace?
That's another story.
And honestly?
After everything that happened?
I was still sitting there thinking:
"WAIT... THAT'S IT?"
Final Thoughts: A Crazy Ride That Didn't Completely Stick the Landing
Mousetrap was definitely a drama full of plot twists.
And when I say plot twists, I mean:
WHO ARE YOU?!
WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
WAIT, THAT'S NOT TRUE?!
IGE MWOYA?!
JINJJAAAA?!
That was basically my entire viewing experience.
The actors were amazing.
The characters were interesting.
And I genuinely enjoyed how the drama kept me guessing.
The partnership between No-ja and Moon-jae was probably one of my favorite parts of the drama.
Every character had their own reason.
Their own story.
Their own version of the truth.
And for most of the drama, Mousetrap successfully made me question everything.
But...
I didn't completely love the ending.
And maybe it's because I expected too much.
I've watched Mouse with Lee Seung-gi and Big Mouth with Lee Jong-suk, and both gave me that mystery-thriller experience with endings that stayed with me.
And between the two?
Mouse is still my favorite.
So going into Mousetrap, maybe my expectations were already higher.
The title alone probably set my expectations somewhere they shouldn't have been.
The twists were there.
The mystery was there.
The "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" moments were ABSOLUTELY there.
And now that I've thought about the drama more, I can appreciate how clever the concept actually is.
The question of identity.
The folklore behind the Rat.
The way every character seems connected to something stolen or lost.
The idea that someone can spend their entire life building an identity only to realize that parts of it never truly belonged to them.
Those things were genuinely interesting.
But when everything was finally revealed...
I was expecting something bigger.
Something that would make me sit there after the finale and say:
"OH MY GOD. THAT WAS CRAZY."
Instead, I was left thinking:
"Wait... that's it?"
And maybe that's the problem.
The journey was chaotic and entertaining.
The actors were great.
The characters were compelling.
The concept was actually clever.
But after spending ten episodes inside that maze, I wanted a stronger emotional payoff when I finally reached the exit.
The ending wasn't terrible.
It just didn't completely stick the landing for me.
And that's probably the best way I can describe Mousetrap.
I appreciated what it was trying to say more than I enjoyed where it finally ended.
Who Should Watch Mousetrap?
You'll probably enjoy Mousetrap if you love:
- Identity mysteries where you genuinely can't trust anyone
- Psychological thrillers that make you question who is telling the truth
- Slow-burn mysteries that take their time revealing answers
- Morally complicated characters
- Stories where your opinion of a character changes as their past is revealed
- Unexpected partnerships that slowly become genuine loyalty
- Mysteries inspired by folklore
- No-ja somehow surviving EVERYTHING
- Screaming Korean phrases at your TV even if your Korean vocabulary is limited
However, if you prefer mysteries that give you answers early and slowly build toward a straightforward conclusion, the repeated:
"WAIT... WHO IS THAT?!"
might start to wear you down.
Because trust me.
There were moments when my brain needed a break.
My Drama Desk Rating: 7/10
Worth the binge?
Yes.
Worth the confusion?
Absolutely.
Worth every "JINJJA NUGUNDE?!" moment?
Definitely.
Mousetrap gave me a crazy, chaotic, frustrating, and entertaining mystery ride.
The actors delivered.
The characters delivered.
The mystery definitely delivered confusion.
And underneath all that confusion was actually a much deeper story about identity.
Who we are.
What belongs to us.
What we take from others.
And whether we can ever truly escape the person we used to be.
I just wish the final destination had been as satisfying as the journey promised.
Still...
For ten episodes, this drama successfully had me questioning everyone.
Including myself.
And honestly?
Isn't that exactly what a mystery thriller is supposed to do?
Or in true My Drama Desk language:
JINJJAAAAA... NUGUNDE?!
— My Drama Desk
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