Joshua Crone’s Compelling Black Box Takes a Compassionate Look at Hurting and Healing After 9/11

“It’s not the kind of black box that tells you what happened before a crash,” Dante (Alec Stephens III) notes to us, directly. “I want to know what happened after. Who died? Who remarried? Who took pills or went to war? What about that?”

It’s September 2002, and forgetting is not an option. Dante is a fireman who lost his life at the Towers, but nevertheless is here to tell the story of the ones left behind. “Funny where a name can take you,” Dante says, noting the bitter irony of what he is called. “I don’t remember much, just running up the stairs,” he says. “It’s always like that…except this time the stairs ran out.”

He introduces us to his widow Mary (Weronika Helena Wozniak), who pole dances at a New Jersey club called (again ironically) The Fire Station; her stage persona is Magda, created with a blond wig and a Polish accent. Army man Sgt. Dooley, back from Afghanistan, is one of her biggest fans, and Dante announces to us that he will play the “character” of Drew “so he can be close to Mary.”

Mary visits the fire house where he once worked, where his chronically coughing, survivor-guilt ridden boss Frank (Richard Roddy) is beginning his shift. Frank finds her dancing around the firepole, recognizes her, and their roles in Dante’s life do not stop them from connecting in the Biblical sense. Shift to Frank’s confused, often-stoned 18-year-old son Drew (Tim Palmer) spending time with his 9/11 conspiracy theory-obsessed Uncle Nate (Thoeger Hanson), and then cut to Frank’s wife Sarah (Stephanie Roseman), whose instincts tell her Frank is not being faithful, and we get a clear picture of where many people were on that somber anniversary. These are human beings who are all suffering in their own way, and searching for connection and understanding from others who are themselves too traumatized to give it.

The characters continue to intersect, as Drew comes to the recruiting office and meets Dooley, who encourages him to enlist, much to the horror of Sarah who now feels in danger of losing both her husband and son. Mary and Sarah become friends as well (and Nate humorously keeps appearing in unexpected places, first as a café waiter and then a bouncer at the Fire Station). Sarah and Dooley bond as well, over mutual concern for Drew but each of course wanting a different path for him.

Black Box is a moving, gripping and relatable story of people in pain, confused and looking to make connection in any way they can. Some isolate; some make bad choices; some look for answers in the fantastical; some choose to go numb. The film is also beautifully shot, with some scenes looking like a stage play (and fittingly in the “black box” of many theatres), and others taking place in the streets of NYC—then a city still healing. One pivotal scene takes place with the lights of the 9/11 memorial shining in the background, and the effect is stunning; as the 25^th anniversary of that tragedy looms, Black Box succeeds in taking us right back there in a way that is painful but necessary. Writer/Director Crone shows an incredible understanding of the human condition following a traumatic event that is brought to life deftly by the talented cast. The narrative threads and the characters come together at the end in a very natural and satisfying way that leaves us with a feeling of hope and an understanding that people just need to be seen and heard, and supported by each other, especially after tragedy—even if getting there is extremely hard to navigate.

Black Box is a production of Yellow Bicycle Theater. To learn more, visit https://yellowbicycle.com/