The mystery at the center of Black Box is simple; the pieces of that mystery, far from it. What happened to European Flight 24, an Atrian 800 that crashed, killing all 300 souls aboard? This story is clearly inspired by a few high-profile ones out of real life, but co-writer/director Yann Gozlan’s film is ultimately about more than the procedural elements of investigating and solving the culmination of events and decisions and corruption that led to the tragedy. This is also a story about the culture of paranoia and late-stage capitalism surrounding such an event, and, ultimately, the price of the cold, hard truth. Evolving over two deliberately paced hours, this film is more hunt for truth than manhunt thriller, and through its thoroughly convincing lead performance, the film travels quite a distance.
Everything about the set-up is typical of a story like this. We see the events leading up to just before the pilots of Flight 24 seem to lose control of their aircraft and the ability to avoid a fateful mountain range. We are introduced to the figures in charge, such as Mathieu (Pierre Niney), a relative newcomer to the investigative beat who jockeys for position as lead investigator, and his immediate supervisor Victor (Olivier Rabourdin), whose storied career has been a guide for Mathieu in both his professional outlook and his ethical standing. Obviously, with a story like this, Mathieu’s entire worldview is bound to be tested, but the unique thing about the screenplay is how it sets obstacles for Mathieu with a focus on contributing to the character as written.
This is not a showcase for Gozlan and co-screenwriters Nicolas Bouvet and Simon Moutairou to establish easy or false drama for the sake of audience thrills. This is, instead, a morally probing study of the one person trying to do the right thing in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds and a system whose intensive self-governing reveals a brick wall where any regulatory agency might reside. At the moral center of the film, then, is the absolutely opposing forces at work. For Mathieu, the challenge is to discover what happened on that flight. For those opposing forces, the challenge is to deflect, to obfuscate and, finally, to cover up any hint of wrongdoing, even if it means the families of 300 people never get closure.
Yes, this might seem like simple, moralistic stuff. Gozlan’s greatest achievement here is to afford such a straightforward plot with a lot of specific complexity. Mathieu’s end game is noble, but there are times in his investigation where he acts as selfishly as those he is pursuing. That’s most obvious in how his marriage to Noémie (Lou de Laâge), a representative with the company that provided the controversial technology implemented on Flight 24, factors into the plot later – not as a ticking-clock device within a romantic relationship, but as a gauge of sorts, informing us in the audience of what kind of relationship this is.
The mystery surrounding the crash marks so many twists off of its checklist that one will be disoriented enough by the third act to wonder what in the world is truly going on. At first, it seems to have been an act of terrorism, as Mathieu discovers semi-hidden in the garbled black box recording. But the recording may not be what it seems as this story moves from potential clue to another, seemingly unrelated one, then through a haze of doubt about all of them once the solution to this riddle is revealed (hidden, perhaps, within the real reason for the implementation of that proprietary technology – or maybe not even there).
Throughout, Niney’s performance delivers a grounded determination without ever tipping over into obsessive tics or showmanship. It’s strong, solid work from an actor at the head of a strong ensemble (most of whom have not been mentioned here, so as to conceal some surprises along the way). Gozlan’s direction reveals a spider’s web of deceit and double-dealing at the heart of Black Box, a riveting and satisfying dramatic thriller.
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