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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.