If the hype looks too good to be true, then chances are it
probably is.
As obvious as this lesson may seem to most level-headed
individuals, I had the unfortunate privilege of learning it the
hard way last week along with hundreds of other students from UCLA
and USC, after sitting on Hollywood Boulevard for nearly two hours
under a stuffy vinyl tent, and for what? Nothing more than tickets
to an after-party that turned out to be a segregated event. We were
victims of a clever Dreamworks publicity stunt.
As part of a super special promotion sponsored by Dreamworks,
hundreds of students from both universities went to the premiere of
“Old School” to participate in a school spirit
competition, with the grand prize being $2,500 for the most
creative group. The consolation prize for the losers?
“Win or lose, you still get tickets to the premiere and
the after-party with the stars from the film,” read the
half-page advertisement, prominently displayed in the Daily Bruin
on Feb. 7. I had a feeling that something shady had to be up with
this offer ““ but trusting that Steven Spielberg and his
associates were more reputable than that, I signed up for the deal.
After months of attempted and sadly unsuccessful premiere
party-crashing in Westwood, I’d have a guaranteed entrance
without being tackled by eight security guards.
Responding to my fears, a Dreamworks publicity intern convinced
me that I had nothing to worry about.
“SWEET, we’re in!” I thought.
Upon arriving at the premiere however and to the dismay of many,
what the ad failed to say was that the students would be corralled
into a holding area that lined the red carpet, in an effort to
create a backdrop of excited fans as the throngs of media paparazzi
aimed their cameras our way. After standing outside for nearly two
hours, we were relieved to find out that we would finally be
allowed into the theater. But, it wasn’t the theater we had
thought we would be entering, nor was the after-party what we
thought we would be attending.
Somehow, the ad conveniently failed to mention that
“tickets to the premiere” translated into a seat in one
of the smaller theaters adjacent to Grauman’s Chinese
Theatre, and “after-party with the stars” was actually
more like apart from the stars. We were on the upper level of a
club, separate and not equal from everybody else at the real party
downstairs. Anyone trying to sneak past the guards were radioed in
and either kicked out or forced to go back upstairs.
What college students were left with resembled more of a humdrum
dinner party than the actual after-party that was still alive and
kicking beneath us, with the loud reverbing bass a sign of the
action we were refused.
Although it felt more like sitting at the diminutive
children’s table of a family gathering, in all fairness there
was still a good amount of free food and drinks that were open to
anyone who felt like staying, after being used on the street for
two hours to promote the film. Needless to say, the party fizzled
out within the first hour as disappointed students started heading
home as the bar closed shortly after 10 p.m. For those who stayed,
they were kicked out at 11 p.m., the time that parties in Westwood
normally start. The celebration downstairs was still going
strong.
Congratulations to Dream-works for successfully turning hundreds
of the brightest college students into sheep. Yes, students might
have been gullible enough to buy into the hype this time, but
it’s not likely this one ever will again.