Black Box

Director: Asli Özge (Germany, Belgium). Year of Release: 2023

I normally start my film reviews with a summary of the opening scene, but the vagaries of Berlin’s public transport system mean that we’ll have to skip that this time round. But, given the protests of Herr Horn, who manages the housing block in which the film is set, we must presume that someone – person unknown – has thrown an egg at him very early on. As the film progresses, Horn accuses tenants of being the egg chucker, although he is unable to provide evidence.

By the time I arrived, we were in the courtyard of a typical Berlin housing block, which is surrounded by buildings on all sides. A bald man, Erik, is complaining about the piles of rubbish which are stinking out the building. Things were bad enough before, but now the landlords have erected a container in the middle of the yard – the titular Black Box – where Horn can sit and answer the tenants’ queries. More room for the container means that the rubbish is packed into an even smaller space.

Erik starts a petition, and tries to get the other tenants to sign. He meets with a mixed response. Some people say that he should leave things to the affable Horn. Meanwhile, rumours abound of gentrification. Is the bakery at the corner of the block going to be sold and replaced by a gallery? Are the houses going to be sold, and if so, will the tenants be allowed to stay? It later becomes clear that those people who are most likely to side with the landlords have put in an offer to buy their homes.

Meanwhile, Henrike is fretting about the job interview which Is scheduled for today. Henrike has been unemployed for 6 years, bringing up her son. She tries to persuade her husband, Daniel, to stay home with the boy while she goes to the interview. Daniel moans that he has already had to postpone an operation once, and his patients won’t take kindly to being pushed around. But today’s the only possible day for Henrike’s interview.

As it happens, she doesn’t make it out of the building. A squadron of armed cops arrive, telling everyone to go back into their homes. With the charm which we have come to expect from the Berlin police, they won’t let anyone know what’s going on, and will only speak with Horn. There is nothing about what is happening on the Internet. When someone with a dialysis appointment asks when they will be let out, one of the policemen says: “when I say so”.

After a while, the police announce that a dead body has been found in one of the houses, although they remain vague about whether this has any connection with them not allowing anyone to leave. Horn says that it’s all the fault of 3 “problem flats”, which are the only ones in the block not owned by his bosses. Noting that the owners are Turkish, he argues that the “danger of criminality” shows the need for more security cameras and renovation (shorthand in Berlin for compulsory evictions).

Encouraged by the police and Horn, suspicion starts to fall on the two non-white tenants. The police tow away the car of Madonna (not her real name, but try getting Germans to pronounce that). Madonna is Lebanese, but everyone thinks she’s Iranian. Similarly, Ismail is presumed to be an Afghan, although he’s from Dagestan in Russia. Ismail is an artist and an activist, so it’s little surprize that he will be taken away by the police before the film is over.

Black Box certainly takes on a whole heap of important issues, from gentrification to institutional racism. Maybe it takes on too many issues at the same time. We (well, I) certainly find it hard to keep track of who all these characters are, and most of them are only drawn with very broad brush strokes. This is a film which seems to have a lot to say, while being too shy to take a side. It’s not just that we don’t know what side it’s on – it’s not clear why the issues raised are important.

This is also a post-Covid film, or maybe a film that it is aware that the pandemic is not yet over – some of the protagonists still wear masks. Others do not, but they have no desire to return to the restriction of movement that may have been necessary under Covid – but is less understandable when imposed by armed policemen who refuse to speak to them, unless they are barking orders. But again, the film’s general confusion makes it hard to discern what is happening and why.

Black Box is about a certain class of person. Maybe it’s a sign of the times, but some of the characters seem too middle class to be living in such a dilapidated housing block. Daniel is a doctor, Erik an apparently experienced teacher, and although you could call Henrike long-term unemployed, she’s hardly  interviewing for a menial job. Someone is even coming from Britain to interview her – that is, if the police finally decide to let anyone out.

Even the non-Germans, who are looked down on by the other tenants, have semi-respectable jobs. Ismael is an artist, while Madonna has a job which requires her to spend all day in front of her computer on skype calls. A number of critics have written that the housing block in Black Box represents a microcosm of society. In truth, the voices that we hear are almost entirely those of the petit bourgeoisie.

This makes some of the disputes very particular to a certain sort of person. Henrike is annoyed because Daniel has been buying shares and not telling her. Some of the tenants suck up to Horn, because they have put in secret bids to buy their homes. Thus the lack of solidarity shown does not ultimately come from a breakdown of society, but from the natural atomisation of the lumpen bourgeoisie. The fact that everyone is home in the middle of the day speaks volumes.

In an interview, director Asli Özge said: “In contrast with what governments want us to believe, the danger in this film, just as in real life, comes perhaps not from without but from within, from ourselves.” This is a pessimistic view which results in a passive acceptance that bad things will continue to happen. I can’t for certain say that Berlin has more solidarity than the film shows, but competing with our neighbours by buying our own flat is just not available to most of us.

Black Box shies away from discussing the issues that it raises, preferring to see a world of relatively privileged people who distrust each other, together with the odd dark-skinned person who is made to carry the can. Now this is certainly part of late capitalist life, but it is not the only part. And the part where people work together (willingly or not) and care for each other is almost entirely missing. This makes for a fairly interesting film, but one without much heart or sense of direction.