I watched Bâan today, 1 October 2025, not really knowing what to expect. At only 18 minutes long, I thought it might just be a short isekai experiment, but instead, it surprised me with something far quieter and more human. It’s a film about leaving, searching, and—sometimes—coming back. For me, it captured the messy, bittersweet in-between of adulthood: feeling like a burden, starting over, and hoping to find where you belong.
[Post read time: 6–10 min]
ABOUT BÂAN:
- Full Genre List: Fantasy, Slice of Life, Drama
- Key Themes: Home, displacement, identity, self-discovery, belonging
- Type: Film
- Number of episodes: 1
- Duration: 18 minutes
- Age Restriction: PG
- Release Date: Sep 21, 2025
- Animation Studio: Studio Daisy
- English Dub: Yes
- Source: Original story by Garnt Maneetapho (Gigguk)
- Watch it here on YouTube
- Website
- Official Hashtags: #BâanAnime #BoundariesOfAdulthood
Bâan follows two parallel journeys: Daichi Arai, a man leaving Japan for the fantastical land of Euthania, and Rinrada Ratchamanee, a young woman from Euthania who crosses the portal into modern Tokyo. Each is searching for something: work, belonging, a new start, but both quickly learn that leaving behind one life doesn’t guarantee peace in the next.
My Thoughts on Bâan
The movie weaves between slice-of-life moments in Japan, job interviews, office struggles, quiet commutes and glimpses of ritual, myth, and conflict in Euthania. In the end, it is less about worldbuilding and more about the feeling of home: how we lose it, how we find it, and how it sometimes waits for us when we return.
What I connected with most were the slice-of-life aspects. I’ve felt that sense of being in the way before, of trying and failing, of worrying if I was a burden. Watching Rin and Daichi navigate those emotions felt real to me, even with wings and portals in the mix.
The quotes that stayed with me were simple but powerful:
- “Today marks the beginning of my new life.” (Daichi and Rinrada, 03:41 EN dub). Hearing them both say it in tandem gave me chills, it tied their stories together beautifully.
- “I’ll do better tomorrow.” (Rinrada, 06:33 EN dub). This one hit the hardest, because I’ve whispered that exact line to myself so many times.
The music was gorgeous throughout, with gentle, flute-like melodies that gave the story its emotional weight. I’d love to add it to a playlist of calming tracks; it stayed with me even after the credits rolled.
Visually, the colour palette was stunning. Cool, lonely blues surrounded Daichi in the city and forests, while Rinrada’s world had warm lilacs, ambers, and soft oranges. The way food appeared again and again, xampfire meals, shared tables, felt grounding, like a reminder that no matter where you are, eating together is still home.
But I won’t lie: I was confused at times. At the 9-minute mark, the sudden flashback/ritual sequence threw me. It was jarring compared to the loneliness and quiet resilience that had been building. Only then did I realise the story was shifting between timelines, and while I adjusted, it pulled me out for a moment.
Daichi also felt less developed compared to Rinrada. I wanted to know him more deeply, beyond his backpack and quiet determination. The short runtime left me wishing for a full series or novel to expand their stories.
What Will Stay With Me
The sting of those 13 rejection letters lingered with me, a harsh but honest reflection of adult life. Rin’s exhausted yet hopeful promise, “I’ll do better tomorrow,” echoed that same reality, quiet resilience in the face of disappointment. Daichi’s quiet campfire cooking added a moment of warmth and grounding, while Rin, sitting alone on the swing at sunset, phone glowing in her hands, captured the loneliness of being displaced.
The recurring comfort of food, shown again and again, tied it all together as a reminder that home isn’t always a place; sometimes, it’s the people who welcome you back.
Overall Verdict
It’s not a perfect film. At times, it’s confusing. At others, it feels like only the outline of a much larger story. But bâan still reached me. For 18 minutes, it gave me space to reflect on what it means to leave, to search, and to return. If you’ve ever moved away, if you’ve ever carried the fear of being a burden, or if you’ve ever searched for where you belong, this film has a quiet hug waiting for you.
In Summary, Bâan Can Be Described As:
A tender, imperfect slice of adulthood, creased at the edges, heartfelt in the middle.
Favourite Character: Rinrada Ratchamanee
Rinrada’s struggle felt the most honest to me. Watching her try to adapt, juggling work, friendship, and that feeling of being misplaced, was both relatable and moving. Her line, “I’ll do better tomorrow,” captured the whole spirit of the film.
Favourite Moment: The Mirrored Vow
When Rinrada and Daichi both said, “Today marks the beginning of my new life,” in sync, it was such a small but powerful moment. It felt like their paths were destined to reflect one another, even across worlds.
Would I recommend Bâan? Yes, with context. It’s not a big, sweeping fantasy, but a quiet reflection. Go in expecting something small and heartfelt, not a fully developed epic. It left me with more questions than answers, and I don’t think we’ll get a series continuation, but for what it is, I’m glad I watched it.
My Rating: 7/10
Tender, confusing at times, but quietly resonant. A short film that stays with you if you’ve ever stood at the edge of adulthood, wondering where “home” really is.
Date watched & completed: 1 October 2025
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