Black Box Diaries
Directed by Shiori Ito
Classification PG; 112 minutes
Had Shiori Ito not been a journalist, insistent on reporting the facts and uncovering the truth, would she have had the tenacity to confront the reality of her own sexual assault? You can’t help but ponder this question as you watch Ito spend eight years trying to prove that she was raped in a Tokyo hotel by senior political journalist Noriyuki Yamaguchi, who was close to the former Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe. It’s an arduous process – from first reporting the alleged crime to the police, to launching a criminal investigation that gets dismissed, then trying to get a criminal case reopened and finally opening a civil case.
Gloria Gaynor’s song I Will Survive – along with her belief in the tenets of journalism – becomes Ito’s personal mantra as she navigates a convoluted system. For anyone wondering why women don’t come forward to report sexual assault, Black Box Diaries offers a glimpse into the many indignities women can face when reporting the crime, and the amount of personal resolve needed to follow through. One seems to need a cause greater than even personal justice – in Ito’s case, changing Japan’s archaic attitudes, as well as legislation, towards sexual offences.
Black Box Diaries opens with the gentlest of trigger warnings, as we read Ito’s message to viewers appear as written script against the visuals of cherry-blossom petals floating in water. (The symbolism of the petals becomes apparent later on.) She asks viewers to take care of themselves as she tells her own story. Then, in a selfie-style video, she speaks about her decision to document herself and alludes to something that happened two years before her 28th birthday. She’s been ignored, she says. “But all I want to do is talk about the truth.”
Even as she sets about to record her own story, Ito faces several obstacles. There are the questions from her own family, at once considerate and perhaps deeply frustrating. Is Ito ready to face the stigma from society if she goes public with her allegations? There are the societal repercussions when she does hold a press conference: questions about her own appearance and character that Ito seemingly brushes off, but that clearly rattle her. Then there’s the fear of physical threat, which drives Ito to leave her own apartment and move in with a friend. People are unwilling to talk on the record. Her own memory is unreliable.
Slowly but surely, Ito begins to piece things together. From the details of the assault, to a growing support base – from her family, friends, lawyers, professional seniors to strangers on the street. She writes a book and becomes something of a celebrity. It’s evident, however, that it’s not fame she seeks. Ito wants her assault to be remembered, to stand for something. As #MeToo starts unfolding globally, while her own case is being docketed in court in Tokyo, Ito is hopeful that a larger conversation will make her own story impactful.
Black Box Diaries is effective in the way it uses the constraints Ito was facing. Speaking openly about sexual offences was (and is still) taboo, and people didn’t want to be on camera, or even have their name associated with the case. We hear from people who were involved, more than seeing them. There’s the taxi driver, who drove Ito and Yamaguchi to the hotel where he assaulted her; Investigator A, who initially dismissed her claims, but then became an ally; and a hotel security guard, who eventually provides Ito the reassurance she had always been seeking. We hear their voices against backdrops of car rides, banal cityscapes of bureaucratic buildings and grainy CCTV footage. The images reflect the seemingly constant static in the head of a sexual assault survivor.
Sexual assault is an uncomfortable topic of discussion anywhere. Violence against women isn’t the purview of any particular culture. However, the nuances of conservative and patriarchal attitudes in Japan as depicted in Black Box Diaries highlights the additional challenges Ito faces.
While recording herself, Ito marshals up her confidence and gumption. She attempts to do a doorstop interview with a police authority figure, much to the astonishment of her colleagues. She jokes around her with her friends, even as the tide keeps turning against her. Her voice and demeanour changes, however, when she gets on the phone with Investigator A, for example. She’s sufficiently modest, using the formal language and tone of voice expected from a young woman.
Yet, the documentary is an important reminder of the trials women across the world face when reporting sexual crimes. The initial disbelief. The questions about the survivors’ appearance (from the clothes they might wear to the physical impression they might make) before and after the assault. The instinct to bury the incident deep within one’s psyche and carry on.
In the end, Ito does survive. The initial shot of a car ride through a highway tunnel at night is bookended by another car ride at the end, with her dancing in the backseat with her friend to Gaynor’s song. It’s been a long journey. How will she – and by extension others like her – keep surviving? That remains to be seen.
In the interest of consistency across all critics’ reviews, The Globe has eliminated its star-rating system in film and theatre to align with coverage of music, books, visual arts and dance. Instead, works of excellence will be noted with a critic’s pick designation across all coverage. (Television reviews, typically based on an incomplete season, are exempt.)