'Black. White.' is more than a reality gimmick

Which is a reason to take ''Black. White." seriously, despite its limitations as a reality show with obviously manufactured situations. The six-part FX series, which premieres tonight at 10, will at least get you thinking about racism and how it manifests in your own life, no matter how unbigoted you think you are. Clearly, the action in ''Black. White." has been manipulated and edited to justify its existence as a spark-filled TV look at black-white relations. Indeed, the show, in which a black family and a white family wear makeup to swap races, can be downright hokey. But it nonetheless pushes you into questions about your own behavior and feelings.

The positive approach of, say, the ''Will & Grace" love affair between Will and his black boyfriend (Taye Diggs) is charming, and does reflect truth; but still, it's a plus to find a show so willing to root out troublesome and hidden discord. Like John Howard Griffin, author of 1961's ''Black Like Me," ''Black. White." producers R.J. Cutler and Ice Cube want to deliver experiential evidence of bigotry. While some things have changed in the 40-plus years since Griffin went undercover as a black in the South, some things -- discomfort, suspicion, awkwardness, guilt, unspoken hostility -- have not.

Wisely, ''Black. White." chose a family of liberal whites to turn black. Carmen, Bruno, and teen daughter Rose think of themselves as unprejudiced and politically correct. When Carmen and Bruno first meet wearing black makeup, they find each other so beautiful that Bruno is moved to tears. A coarse reality show such as ''Wife Swap" would probably have chosen openly racist families, to create obvious conflict. But ''Black. White." has more subtle points to make. No matter how comfortable they think they are, the white family still makes offensive comments. At times they seem tragically clueless. Bruno reveals that he doesn't think racism exists, except as a self-fulfilling prophesy by black people.