Before I begin this review: Is it just me, or are these filmmakers fixated on Carice Van Houten’s boobs? Scenes where her shirt gets ripped off her body seem to be something of a unifying theme throughout the film, and there is something strangely staged and artificial about her many and dramatic unveilings. I get the feeling that the filmmakers were trying to make some point with all this, but I have no idea what that point might be. Or maybe they were just trying to sell tickets.

Anyway, Black Box is one of those movies that winds up feeling a little artificial all across the board. It artistry is not subtle, the pacing feels rushed, the character development is weak and one-dimensional, particularly with the supporting cast. Van Houten is great in the lead role, but the real star is Sebastian Koch (the playwright in The Lives of Others and the engineer in The Tunnel), who is so incredibly warm and winning and superb in everything he appears in. This guy will make you like Nazis, that how warm and charismatic he is on screen, and all you have to do is look at him and you immediately buy the fact that Van Houten’s character falls for him despite everything. He is one of my favorite actors right now, instantly elevating anything he gets involved in, and he is wonderful in this movie.

I enjoyed Black Book, but I doubt I would watch it again. It’s a good story, decently told, but it’s not done in a timeless fashion. It feels a lot like those late 1980’s epics: everything looking a tad fake and sterile, rather unimaginative dialog, generic music, a bit stylized in a bad way, period touches look a bit forced, all that. But nevertheless, it’s still worth Netflixing if you haven’t seen it.