Black Box Diaries

“Ignoring Ethics”

Mitsuyo Wada-Marciano (Kyoto University)

The relationship between the audience and the film, characterized by the expectation of objectivity, is one of the key features that distinguishes documentary from fiction films. However, when I viewed Black Box Diaries (2024), a documentary film directed by journalist Shiori Itō, I felt that it was the accumulation of overlapping subjectivities, rather than objectivity or its expectation, which left me with a faint sense of misgiving. The film can be summarized as the “success story” of a victim of sexual violence who, encouraged by the #MeToo movement, stands up for her own rights. However, the story seems to me to be overly convenient, giving rise to questions like: How did she get this shot? How did she get permission to film this scene – or did she? Why is she speaking English to the camera? Although this is Itō’s first feature-length documentary, she is no amateur. Nonetheless, the extent of her understanding of the ethical issues that loom over the production and distribution of documentary films remains uncertain. For example, Itō included in the film secretly recorded interactions without the permission of the subjects involved—tactics which, some may argue, and Itō herself has implied, were necessary to speak truth to power. However, in my view, the use of such tactics is not warranted, even by the unique societal pressures of contemporary Japan. Such actions would generate backlash in any cultural space and should not be conveniently framed as an expression of the same male-dominated power hierarchies that the film aims to expose and challenge.

The Difficulty of Five Roles for One Project

From beginning to end, Black Box Diaries is filled with shots of director Shiori Itō’s face. Of course, this may be natural since she is the subject of the film, but the nature of Itō’s multifaceted role in this film is unprecedented in Japanese documentary. For example, director Naomi Kawase’s documentary films of the early 1990s similarly feature Kawase herself as a subject. However, both the production budget and the number of filmmakers involved in Black Box Diaries distinguish it from Kawase’s films, which were tantamount to home movies. Occupying the five roles of director, writer, cast, co-producer, and cameraman, Itō is remarkably versatile in her work. At the same time, this presents a major challenge to the expectation of objectivity.

Itō describes her own views on one person playing five separate roles: “I wanted to face this theme as a director myself, even though there were objections that other third parties should direct the film… There is nothing more empowering than being able to spin my own story as a survivor, in my own words and of my own volition.” However, while offering viewers a sense of immediacy and access to her personal experience, this orientation sacrifices objectivity in the strictest sense, giving us only one, very specific and emotionally-invested version of the events narrated.

Another issue is that of address. Since Black Box Diaries is a documentary that focuses on sexual violence in Japan, there is no obvious necessity to bridge the linguistic and cultural spheres of Japanese and English. Why, then, is English used as the central language? It is likely that, from the outset, the film aimed to target a global audience. The film’s opening scene features cherry petals floating on the surface of a dark river, and a note in English that seems to have been handwritten by Itō herself: “I know there are countless numbers of you out there in the world who have experienced sexual violence. Please be mindful of the triggers in this film. Close your eyes and take a deep breath if you need to. That has helped me many times.” This message from Itō to the viewers concludes: “Now let me tell you my story.” Here, “you” may refer to women who have experienced sexual violence in the past. Clearly, however, Itō’s film is addressing an even broader audience. But who is included in this address and to what end?

Backlash in Japanese Society

Ito seems to have expected – perhaps even hoped – that her film would be rejected in Japan. In her memoir, the title of which can be translated as “Re-living 450 Hours of Pain: Why I Filmed Black Box Diaries,” Ito writes: “As of this writing [in March 2025], the film has not yet been screened in Japan. It has not even been evaluated. At the moment, I think that the difficulty of not being able to proceed to a public screening may be what this film was hoping to shed light on.” Itō attributes the failed release of Black Box Diaries in Japan—despite it being nominated for an Academy Award in the US—to a male-centered Japanese society threatened by the film’s exposure of its toxic structure. However, many people in Japan have objected to Itō’s framing. For example, Kazuhiro Sōda, a documentary filmmaker and advocate of “observational film,” offers his opinion:

Although Ms. Itō has emphasized the fact that this film has not been released in Japan in interviews overseas, she has hardly mentioned the fact of hidden filming and recording, or the legal and ethical issues raised by her former lawyer and others. She instead explains that the Japanese cultural and social structure have made it difficult for victims to raise their voices, and that is the reason why her film has not been released.

Sōda clearly disagrees with Ito’s assessment. He also draws attention to the difference in responsibility between a “survivor of sexual assault” and a “film director.” He points out that when filming a documentary, the filmmaker has a responsibility to be “highly ethical, sincere, and transparent” toward the filmed subject. This ethical stance and sincerity must be maintained toward the audience as well. Ito’s ostensible neglect of ethical issues is, in Soda’s view, the real reason the film has not been screened in Japan.

Indeed, from this perspective, in Black Box Diaries, Itō neglected her responsibility to her filmed subjects. She secretly recorded a conversation with Yōko Nishihiro, her lawyer at the time, and used it in the film without obtaining Nishihiro’s consent. She secretly filmed and recorded a meeting with a police officer who blew the whistle on the police department’s midconduct in handling the case and used it without his permission. Additional instances include Itō’s breach of responsibility toward the taxi driver whose taxi she boarded just before she was assaulted; representatives of the hotel in Tokyo where the assault was reported to have occurred; and members of a meeting of female journalists where Itō was invited as a guest after the assault. During a press conference at the Judicial Press Club on October 21, 2024, Yōko Nishihiro, the aformentioned former defense lawyer who had supported Itō’s civil lawsuit regarding sexual assault, stated that her heart had been “torn to shreds.” Since Nishihiro filed an objection against Itō for “unauthorized use of images” and “breach of promise,” doubts about Ito’s work from various angles have begun to percolate through the Japanese press, but they have been limited to the Japanese-speaking media sphere. Moreover, in terms of responsibility to the audience, Itō betrays their trust in the objectivity and integrity toward her subjects that is expected of documentary films. Sōda also points to another important betrayal: Itō has definitively failed to fulfill the audience’s expectation that a filmmaker has obtained permission from the people featured in the film to record them.

It is my hope that the film will be released in Japan and that it will be seen by a large audience. I also hope that the film will generate further discussion about the issue of sexual harassment and assault, the need for revision of laws and ordinances in Japanese society, and, importantly, the ethical issues involved in documentary film production. However, I still have a number of questions. Itō describes herself as a “visual journalist” (eizō jānarisuto). Do journalists and documentary filmmakers adhere to different sets of ethical standards? Why did Itō alone, and not her co-producers, bear the brunt of the backlash that occurred in Japanese society? Why has the production company, Star Sands, not taken any action? There has been no mention of the film on Star Sands’s social media since January 23, when it was nominated for an Academy Award for “Best Documentary Feature Film.”

In making her film, Ito attempted to challenge a power structure in which she had no voice; in doing so, she may also have abused her own power as a journalist and filmmaker. In response to the question, “Why did you start documenting (with video)?,” Itō said:

I have repeatedly asked the people in the center of power questions to which I could not get an answer. I had hoped that I would be able to put them in the hands of the journalists in front of me. But things were not progressing. So, I continued to interview and shoot on my own.

I look forward to the day when Itō will have the opportunity to face the criticism she has received for her actions and explain her decisions as a documentary filmmaker in an open dialogue with her critics.