PBS ships out with the Navy

"Carrier," a 10-hour documentary airing on PBS, was filmed aboard the USS Nimitz (above). (Courtesy of carrier)

At first, the 10-hour documentary "Carrier" feels something like a crazy-long Navy commercial.

The camaraderie of the sailors, the giant metal flying toys, aimless teens finding direction at sea, the nicknames and cool tattoos - it all looks like one giant come-on. I wanted to write an eye-rolling review about how PBS has gone into the recruitment business with this miniseries, which premieres tomorrow at 9 p.m. on Channel 2. Vibrant with panoramic shots of the shining sea, "Carrier" starts out like a high-def paean to American military adventure.

But the longer you watch "Carrier," the deeper it goes. What begins as a gung-ho portrait of six months aboard the USS Nimitz develops into a more faceted take on sexism, racism, the strains of hierarchy, homophobia, and the psychic costs of living in an isolated subculture - what one sailor likens to a prison. The miniseries isn't an expose or a political statement, but it is a bottom-to-top warts-and-all profile of a crowded, high-stakes world comprised mostly of 18- and 19-year-olds. The filmmakers deliver a fine balance of both elated big-gun worship and humiliated bathroom cleaning, melting-pot team-making and the cliquishness of ethnic groups.

At times during the USS Nimitz's deployment to the Pacific and the Persian Gulf, you clearly understand why one sailor calls the aircraft carrier a "floating high school." The officer-sailor spats about how casually sailors can dress during a stop in Hong Kong are straight out of a reality show about teens and their parents. And so is a sequence about a young woman busted for alcohol. But "Carrier" is much more believable and revealing than a reality show, because none of it appears to have been directed or scripted.

And certainly, "Carrier" doesn't seem to have been scripted by the Navy, which reportedly insisted on cutting only 30 seconds due to security concerns. We are privy to the don't-ask-don't-tell set, including both on-ship love affairs and gay people. And in episode 3, we see the fallout of a sexual incident during the stop in Hong Kong. Bob Patrick is a promising petty officer who mentors sailors about how to stay out of trouble with women as part of the SAVI (Sexual Assault Victims Intervention) program. First we see him warning guys about sloppy behavior on shore, then we see him after he has drunken sex with a lower-ranking woman. His rising career comes to a halt, and she is psychologically devastated, still uncertain whether or not she was raped. "I told them no, because I wasn't sure," she says. "And I'm still not sure to this day. I can't let a man go down for rape if he didn't do it."

In episode 4, we meet a white guy who is facing charges of racism. In one painful scene in Guam, he drunkenly tries to justify his prejudice to a black sailor, calling himself a victim of his background. Later, after he is discharged from the Navy for racism, he still says, "No regrets."

"Carrier" doesn't avoid the crew's ambivalence about going into battle. When the ship takes an unexpected turn toward Korea, the fear is palpable. Nor does the documentary dodge the sailors' and airmen's personal feelings about the war in Iraq. While one enlisted person is proud of serving "peace by strength," another admits, "I don't get why we're fighting for somebody else's freedom when we barely have our own."

Still, despite the mixture of emotions, most of the people on the USS Nimitz are committed to doing what they're told. "We are a floating dictatorship defending democracy," one sailor says. With admirable honesty, "Carrier" captures that peculiar contradiction.

Matthew Gilbert can be reached at gilbert@globe.com.