Editor’s Note: The following story contains mentions of sexual assault. To reach the National Sexual Assault Hotline, call 1-800-656-HOPE (4673) or visit online.rainn.org.
In 2017, Shiori Ito became the center of discourse around societal treatment of sexual assault in Japan when she went public with her accusation of rape against Noriyuki Yamaguchi, a prominent TV news executive. By that point, police had declined to pursue the case for two years. That same year, Ito published a book, Black Box: The Memoir That Sparked Japan’s #Metoo Movement, which chronicled her investigation into her case and was translated into English in 2021. She then embarked on a film project, documenting the public response to her actions and her civil lawsuit against Yamaguchi. The resulting documentary, Black Box Diaries, is now coming to theaters. Hyperallergic spoke with Ito over Zoom about making and touring with the film. This interview has been edited and condensed for time and clarity.
Hyperallergic: How has this experience and your subsequent reporting on it — both in your book and through this film — shifted your priorities as a journalist?
Shiori Ito: I was always into social justice issues, but it was only when I experienced rape personally that I began questioning why we don’t really speak about it. Hanna [Aqvilin], my best friend, she’s always telling me, “Why don’t you just cover a cat story or street food, something that doesn’t have to do with violence?” But I feel like I end up focusing on gender or human rights issues in whatever I cover; I always see that kind of story in it. But also, maybe because I am openly speaking about my own experience, more people are sharing their stories with me, even when we’re covering something different.
H: Did you always record the video diaries seen in the film with the idea that they’d be used in a project like this?
SI: I was trying to record everything for those first couple of years, purely as a protective measure. I didn’t exactly set out with the mindset to make a film. It wasn’t a regular film diary, more of a habit. I’d record video calls with my friends, and sometimes would talk to the camera when it was really hard to put what I was feeling down as words. Maybe it helped me to speak out, to feel like my voice was being heard. It helped me log what was happening inside me. Then, when I realized I wanted to make a film, I kept recording.
H: When did that moment come when you decided to make a film in addition to the book you were writing?
SI: The book was published right as the #MeToo movement started, and I wrote it from the mindset of a journalist, tracking my investigation into what happened, so I didn’t put much of my emotion in it. This was before my civil court case started. But I realized I’d been leaving myself behind as a survivor. It always helped me to approach things as a journalist, but I think it’s also maybe a typical trauma reaction, and it took some years for me to realize what I was really experiencing, and I wanted to face that. But it was hard to sit down and face being a survivor, and it was important to address that in the film. After I went public, I realized the Japanese media is still reluctant to cover this type of story. There’s a strong stigma against talking about sexual violence, and I wanted to break that.
H: You’ve spoken elsewhere about the therapeutic elements of this project, but are there other ways in which it might have negatively impacted you?
SI: After I finished, I felt like it helped, but during production, it was just constant exposure, like a hardcore therapy session. There were eight years of editing 400 hours of footage, constantly remembering things I wished I would forget. I wouldn’t call it a therapeutic process. But it was important to know that I can tell my own story. Always remembering why I wanted to do this was really helpful.
H: What resources are offered to survivors in Japan, and what guided which parts you did and didn’t include in the film?
SI: I just told my own experience in 2015. When I found out there was a hotline for sexual violence, I called them because I didn’t know what to do, which hospital to go to. But even for that advice, they said they had to interview me and asked me to come to their office. They were the only sexual violence support center in all of Tokyo, and it was quite far away, on the border with Chiba, and they couldn’t disclose the address. They said they’d pick me up at a certain station. From the way they spoke, I felt like they wouldn’t believe me, and I didn’t end up going.
Later, I learned that at the time, the Tokyo Sexual Assault Relief Center (SARC) only had two people, and of course they couldn’t just pick me up anywhere; they were heavily short-staffed. There’s not much funding from the government, so it’s not necessarily that the people working there were trying not to take my case.
I went to the police, but it was a similar rejection — “These cases happen a lot, but we can’t really do anything.” Later, I learned that it was because of the way the laws about sexual assault are written, though they have been updated a bit since then. That was how I realized how ignorant I was about my own society and the legal protections we have.
H: How did you figure out the best way to frame the film?
SI: For me, the rape wasn’t the story; what happened after was the story. Accusing the SARC people who didn’t help, that wasn’t the case. It was the system — the law, the police investigation methods. I wanted to question power. That’s also why I didn’t disclose all the details of the rape at the beginning. Especially as a survivor, I didn’t want to traumatize myself or anyone else. That’s why I didn’t include any visuals of it except the CCTV footage. I feel like sometimes when I see even a powerful film about sexual violence, they put in such a scene, or reenact it. I don’t necessarily agree that we need to see that.
The system was always the focus, but the structure was more trial and error. My goal was giving my point of view as a survivor, letting the audience wear my shoes, letting them understand why I made certain decisions.
H: You’ve previously worked on television documentaries. What was the learning curve like when directing a feature?
SI: My team, especially my editor and producer, were always my soundboard. I’ve especially admired the films made from the director’s point of view, like For Sama (2019) and Strong Island (2017). Those two were like my textbook of how directors film themselves, how they put their stories together. I couldn’t find many films like that before. Now I see them more.
H: When in the timeline of shooting the footage did that crew come onboard?
SI: It was always me and my producer, Hanna, who shot most of the film. She was the one who called me out of nowhere about a month and a half after I went public in 2017. She encouraged me to move to London, because we didn’t know if I’d be able to work in Japan anymore. I was desperate, because I started getting death threats and it was hard to go back to my ordinary life at the time, so I decided to move. There, I could finally talk about it, with Hanna, from a distance — what was going on in Japan. She decided to come back with me, and her friend gave us some pocket money to fly back to Japan. We didn’t have a budget, but we had our tickets, and we went back and started questioning people. We knew we wanted to make a film, but it was just a starting point. The whole process ended up taking eight years, with editing taking up more than half that time. That was the most challenging but creative part.
H: What’s it been like to tour with the film over the past year through festivals and releases? How have responses varied from one place to another?
SI: It’s been amazing to do Q&As and feel the audience’s emotions. It’s reminded me how many people have gone through something similar, or someone they love has. It’s been an amazing journey to share this space. And with a film like this relating to trauma, I think it’s important to be in a theater with someone else.
And although it’s such a universal topic, the reaction is not always the same. Here in the States, people laugh a lot, because how Japanese society is structured can be very comedic.
H: Does the film still not have distribution in Japan?
SI: Yes. We are trying our best. Japan doesn’t have strong legal censorship, but there’s always self-censorship. We’re hoping the international release and the responses will travel back. This film is my love letter to Japan, and to my sister and my friends. And so I really hope it will happen soon.
Black Box Diaries (2024), directed by Shiori Ito, will screen at Film Forum (209 West Houston Street, Greenwich Village, Manhattan) from October 25–30.
