Memory is a great movie subject. Scratch that. Memory is a great subject. Period. For while we amount to the sum of our actions, how we perceive ourselves is the sum of our memories, and sometimes our memories suck. I mean, we have a current President who has acted with prejudice and malice on memories of things that never happened. Is it political, or does Donald Trump actually believe there were thousands cheering in Jersey City on 9/11? I don’t know the answer to that, but regardless, I’m pretty sure something is wrong with his memory, especially the way he denies and projects. It’s not just lying; there’s a brain problem there.
Speaking of brain problems, Nolan (Mamoudou Athie) had a car accident half a year ago and never really recovered. His seven-year-old Ava (Amanda Christine) has to walk him through his day. Nolan functions well; the physical signs of the accident have disappeared. But his memory is shot and he’s barely capable of being a single parent.
I currently have two major people in my life who cannot make lasting memories and it’s frightening to think of either caring for a small child. And this isn’t even the danger Black Box wants to tell me about. The hardest part is watching Nolan behave as if he can fake it, constantly pushing to see if he can remember his boss, his profession, etc. It’s both tragic and human – in one place with
one set of equipment, I’m a valued worker, but place me a block in any direction and I don’t know what I’m doing… but I’d probably smile and try to fake until I did. How, really, is Nolan any different?
Confused and desperate, Nolan turns to Dr. Brooks (Phylicia Rashad), part medical doctor, part psychologist, part inventor, part mad scientist. When you get a degree in Mad Science, where do you intern? Anyhoo, this is where the horror begins. Dr. Brooks hooks Nolan up to the Black Box, an invention of hers that allows one to live in their memories until they return in full … or at least that’s how the device is explained to Nolan. And three problems immediately arise in succession: first, all the faces are blurred. Second, he’s hounded in dreamworld/memoryworld by a hideous crab-walking demon-man of some sort. Third, these aren’t his memories; you must have him hooked up to the wrong machine, Mrs. Huxtable.
We’ve seen Black Box before in various form like Total Recall and Angel Heart; this one had less action/blood and more psychology, but essentially leaned upon the same themes. I was really into the picture until I realized, umm, dudes, this science not just mad, it’s not really possible given the tools at our disposal; that’s why all films like this are generally set in the future, where we can gloss over petty crap like “this science doesn’t exist.” Oh well. The point is Nolan and Ava. And I liked them both well enough to follow the film wherever it wanted to take me. I certainly liked Black Box enough to encourage more writing/directing from Emmanuel Osei-Kuffour and less horror from Blumhouse productions. Sadly, I doubt either of those things are going to happen anytime soon.
A doctor with most skilled appliance
Messed with brains for her featured clients
I know it’s the future
With a past we all suture
But when did Frankenstein become normal science?
Not Rated, 100 Minutes
Director: Emmanuel Osei-Kuffour
Writer: Emmanuel Osei-Kuffour and Stephen Herman
Genre: Horror?
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Single parents
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Mad scientists
