College Happenings

I am currently reading a book called Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin.
Griffin is a white man who dyes his skin black and moves to the South in 1959.

So far it is a really great book.

When I saw this article, I immediatly thought of Black Like Me.

I don’t have FX, so I can’t watch the show, but I imagine it is interesting.

FX tackles racial stereotypes in “Black. White.”

LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) – You can’t help but approach the new six-episode FX quasi-reality series “Black. White.” with a healthy degree of skepticism.

It feels on the surface like just another contrived unscripted gimmick: Members of two families, one black and one white, undergo extensive transformative makeup from an Oscar-nominated artist (Keith Vanderlaan) to pose as the opposite race.

The expectation is that soon enough, those decked out in blackface will infiltrate soul food restaurants, while those in whiteface will try to crash exclusive white enclaves. So the shock is that this show goes in for neither cheap gags nor easy stereotypes, crafting a thought-provoking narrative that embodies genuine sociological heft without transforming its subjects into buffoons. It allows them to do that themselves.

Developed and exec produced by R.J. Cutler (the man behind the exquisite 1993 documentary feature “The War Room” and more recently TV’s “American High”) and multimedia maestro Ice Cube, “Black. White.” is much like others of its reality ilk in that it goes to great lengths to stir the conflict pot. For one, it cast two clans whose individual members have a natural antipathy that extends beyond their racial composition — and then places them underneath the same roof to ensure maximum volatility.

Yet “Black. White.” (call it “Changing Races”) proves compelling in spite of the obvious contrivances and manipulations. On one side, we have the black-to-white Sparks family from Atlanta (41-year-old contractor Brian, his 38-year-old office manager wife Renee and their high school student son Nick, 17). On the other, there are the white-to-black Carmen Wurgel, 48, a location scout; her 18-year-old college-going daughter Rose; and her 47-year-old live-in boyfriend, Bruno Marcotulli, a public school substitute teacher. They reside in Santa Monica. But for the purposes of this made-for-TV social experiment, all six will live in a two-story dwelling on a quiet cul-de-sac in Tarzana, Calif., and undergo three to five hours of daily makeup to pass as what they are not.

The makeup work is pretty phenomenal, though it’s unpredictably more convincing on the Sparks trio than the Wurgels and Marcotulli. But the series largely works because it’s far more about behavior, perception and expectation than it is appearance. We really do get a vivid illustration of what it’s like to live quite literally in someone else’s skin. The fallout isn’t always pretty.

As “Black. White.” moves through its early episodes, the personalities and rifts emerge and broaden. The boorish but guileless Bruno, despite having grown up and lived his entire life in Los Angeles, leaves the impression that he has rarely encountered a black person and certainly never seen “Crash.” He believes that racism is largely a myth and that it’s really all just a matter of putting out the energy you expect to receive in return. Simple! This naturally infuriates the more worldly but wary Brian. Worse still is the interaction between Carmen and the purposefully strident Renee. Carmen is a study in awkwardness, so fearful of being politically incorrect that she invariably always is (enraging Renee by saying “Yo bitch” in an unfortunate attempt to connect).

The clear hero of the show is Rose, who is as smart, sensitive and articulate as those surrounding her are uptight and/or ignorant. She receives a disproportionate amount of the camera time because she deserves it, handling herself with class and compassion at every turn (particularly during a few anxiety-riddled sessions in an all-black poetry class). We’re consistently left wondering how this girl emerged from an environment of such sheer naivete.

“Black. White.” is a bit like a paint-by-numbers drawing that turns into a complex rendering before your eyes. It stirs real debate about the roles played by judgment and attitude in defining what constitutes race-based conduct and discrimination. What further compels is the issue of how expectation and self-fulfilling prophecy might intertwine. Because the show raises such probing questions, we can look past some others, such as how the pretense of having a camera present as they interact in public is never discussed, how no one bothers to ask why these people have such unnaturally shiny faces and why it is they never have to explain how a black guy got the name Bruno.