Gray Area

Racism can’t be reduced to buzzwords or understood in role reversal game-playing. Yet this is exactly what Black. White. wants to do. Its set-up is a potentially offensive stunt: two families, one black and one white, are cosmetically altered to resemble another raced identity, then assigned to a Real World-style living situation. From their experiences, the series suggests, we might witness the effects of race and racism on our social condition.

The premise is almost fatally flawed. No matter the truism, it’s impossible to experience another existence by merely “walking in someone else’s shoes.” Neither does sharing your foolishly insular thoughts about hot button topics (who can use the n-word and why) necessarily lead to enlightenment. And so the lessons to be learned here are unclear from the start.

Black. White. also cheats in its choice of experimental subjects. There’s nothing “typical” about the families here, as both appear well off and content with their lives. Most obviously, the Caucasians live in a bubble of belief, namely, that racism is no longer relevant. Forty-something Carmen Wurgel identifies herself as coming from an “activist” background, since both her parents fought for civil rights during the ‘60s, when she was a child. This leaves her feeling alternately sanguine and worried (like, maybe her lack of experience has left her well intentioned but ignorant).

Her bombastic boyfriend, an amiable Italian idealist named Bruno, has no such doubts, believing he has the world all figured out. Voicing the traditional immigrants’ notion that the U.S. is a land of opportunity if only you work hard, he just can’t wait to stare racism square in the greasepaint. He says more than once that he looks forward to the moment when someone will call him the n-word (he uses it no less than four times during the course of the pilot episode), since he’s devised a way to defang its defamatory nature. According to our amateur philosopher, an epithet is only effective when it has power. If and when a black Bruno hears the epithet, he will simply “drain” it of its authority by not caring or responding.

Bruno and Carmen’s African American roommates reveal their own limits. The Sparks family, Brian and Renee and their son Nick, enter this awkward installment of “Trading Races” with preconceptions of white people’s tendencies to be meddling and mindless. Renee argues that the Caucasians she deals with are “always all up in my bid-ness,” while Brian marvels that white people get shoe-to-foot service when they go into a department store (this being his experience in white-drag).

Thankfully, a couple of voices of reason emerge from the younger generation. Rose Wurgel and Nick appear well-adjusted adolescents who view their world through decided race-less glasses. Rose relishes the experience of learning about another culture, hoping to gain a sense of scope and purpose. Nick, on the other hand, doesn’t believe that skin color makes a difference. He will be what he is—a genial, intelligent individual—and judge others by their actions, not skin color. Though they’re very different in attitude and expectations, the kids make this otherwise joyless hour quite bearable.

Still, the adults can’t seem to help themselves. When Brian and Bruno go shopping, both in “black” mode, Brian reads every action, from people moving over on the sidewalk to let him pass to being immediately approached in a clothing store, as racist. Bruno views things differently. As they argue, we learn a little truth: both are right… and wrong. The people who move to avoid them on the sidewalk were blocking the way, yet they also seemed sheepish about yielding to a couple of black men. Similarly, the salesman could have been eager to help or profiling a couple of potential troublemakers. Past experience shapes the men’s responses.

For the purposes of the experiment, Brian takes a job bartending (he works with computers in his own life). Hired after a brief interview, Brian feels he is “officially” part of white society. Then, he manages to find a throwback to the days of restricted communities and white flight, a beer-swilling citizen (white, naturally) who can’t stress enough the virtues of this mostly Caucasian enclave. As we listen, historical efforts by the majority to be inclusive are undermined by a single guy who speaks for himself, and perhaps his community. While Brian uses it as verification that the white world wants nothing to do with any other race, only Bruno occupies an alternative position—and he is surely problematic.

The creators of Black. White.—documentarian R.J. Cutler and Ice Cube—seek both conflict and insight as a means to educate. So, to its credit, the show offers no quick resolutions or neat epiphanies. But since the adults are so broadly drawn, it is up to the kids to engage us, and in the first episode, they only appear briefly, leaving more time for the relatively sensational adults. It’s reality TV, yes, but such conventions are not helpful for a show that wants to break new ground.

Black. White. doesn’t actually have its families “live” the lives of another race. As in every other reality show, participants’ shifts in perspective are temporary and incomplete. But unlike Cutler’s other FX series, 30 Days, we have the opportunity to see one issue play out over several episodes. And this ensures that it’s the messengers, not the message, that get the most attention.