Shiori Itō, the journalist, documentarian, and autobiographical subject of Black Box Diaries, wanted to do things the right way. In the wake of a brutal drugging and sexual assault by a high powered journalist, Itō tries at first to move her case through the traditional judicial systems in Japan. But almost immediately, it becomes clear that these supposed frameworks of justice have no interest in helping her.
In one of the many painstaking secretly recorded conversations between Itō and various government and judicial officials throughout Black Box Diaries, a police officer informs her that there is not much to be done regarding her accusations. Itō’s utter lack of memory and evidence of the sexual assault is described by the officer as a “black box”—an inaccessible void in which all of her potential case rests. Even harder to circumvent is the status of Itō’s accused rapist: a journalist with political ties and the ability and influence to sway judicial systems.
In short, the deck is stacked unfathomably against Itō.
In 2017, Itō’s written memoir, Black Box, helped to open up a widespread MeToo discourse in Japan. Itō’s documentary, released seven years later, follows her public accusation of her rapist, the writing of her book, and the respective aftermath.
What is most striking about Black Box Diaries is the way in which Itō is forced to adapt and adjust what she qualifies as justice: a stringent journalist and documentarian even throughout a personally traumatic event, she is more than willing to do things the “right way”, only to quickly discover that the “right way” has long been muddied by corruption and misogynistic narratives that prevent sexual assault victims from speaking out.
For anything meaningful to be done, Itō has to instead skirt the boundaries of the legal system—including pushing her book to publication at risk of lawsuits for libel, and recording conversations and asking for permission to use them well after the fact. The “right way” was not an option for Itō until she’d searched for justice, healing, and closure not just outside of, but in partial opposition to, the systems in place.
The cultural norm as it stands demands extreme composure on the part of sexual assault victims, while also demanding one is not so detached or unemotional that they seem suspect or dishonest in their accusations. Striking such a balance in performance as a victim is, in reality, both impossible and irrational, and Itō does not shy away from presenting herself as experiencing complicated, and sometimes dissonant, emotions throughout her healing journey. At times, Itō almost obsessively collects phone calls, evidence, and documents to write her memoir, while at others she is caught up in genuine, unavoidable emotion. What is so commendable about Black Box Diaries is Itō’s choice to present her vulnerability on-screen.
Perhaps what is bravest about Black Box Diaries is Itō’s willingness to show herself in occasional moments of joking, joy, and camaraderie among her support network of friends, colleagues, and Good Samaritans throughout her long standing ordeal. At one point, Itō dances to gleeful music, at another she goes out to dinner with friends. She even occasionally finds herself joking, albeit darkly, about the mysterious car parked in front of her friend’s place, and the very real need to search the house for wiretaps. Moments like these make the political statement that Itō, as does any victim of assault, as does any victim of public defamation, is inherently deserving of a network of care and support, as well as joy, laughter, and loud celebration.
Black Box Diaries highlights that, as it currently stands, we will not find justice through pathways run by patriarchy and the valuing of the upper-class and higher-powered voices over the marginalized. Even Itō’s eventual “legitimate” civil court win, notable as it is for at least tangentially involving the law, is one that will not usually be found in traditional justice systems.
Itō’s eventual, singular success in civil courts took an entire cultural shift in Japan. What would it look like for us to be able to have our voices heard and believed from the outset? And what systems could perhaps replace our rotten-to-the-core judicial and criminal systems in order for true resolution to be found? People like Itō, in her documentary, journalistic, and personally vulnerable work, are brave enough to epitomize the desperate need for this change to come about.
