We Rep Them Thetas: The Film That Borrowed the Look but Missed the Legacy

The opening of 2007’s Stomp the Yard features a hotly contested dance battle between “The Goon Squad” and “The Thug Unit” in Los Angeles. As the surrounding crowd participates in cash betting, popular Hip-Hop songs along with their lyrics, are sloppily remixed into beats that no Black person has ever danced to in their lives. And, because this is also a dance film, imagine moviegoers’ shock when the character played by the best dancer on set and one of the best dancers of his generation is killed…eleven minutes into the movie. These are just some of the reasons not to continue watching this film unless you’re the intended audience. Further, with roughly 5 months until its 20th anniversary, it still stands as the absolute worst depiction of Historically Black Colleges and Universities and Black Greek-Lettered Organizations alike.

So, the story itself is woefully derivative of the similarly flawed but much better-executed Drumline from 5 years prior. The storylines are the same: an at-risk Black man goes from the hood to an HBCU with an undeniable skill set; is constantly criticized by a no-nonsense mentor from a place of love, tradition, and respectability politics; falls for the rival’s girlfriend; sees his poor decision-making get him kicked out of the group; redeems himself by finding balance between his innate skills and the established order; and, of course, gets the girl.

There is a multitude of misrepresentations of BGLOs and how they’re presented on HBCU campuses. For example, the differences between strolling and stepping—and the actuality of stepping not being as simple as choreographed dancing—and much more nuance that is subtle to those unaware, but overt to those in the esoteric group who know better. It’s worth the occasional misfire to allow a movie to be a movie. Stomp the Yard is no more or less inaccurate than any other film focusing on a setting and lifestyle that mainstream America isn’t familiar with. But, there are grand issues that cannot be ignored in favor of artistic license.

The depiction of an HBCU campus and its relationship with BGLOs is far enough off base to thrust an alum or member into the uncanny valley. While Morris Brown College, Morehouse College, and Clark Atlanta University are three actual HBCUs where filming was done for the movie, there is a dismissive, noncommunal atmosphere to scenes around campus. This is a far cry from the authentic family affair that is relaxing on the yard between classes—or during mental health breaks from them—while some of the coolest kids on campus from both fraternities and sororities stroll the yard to the delight of the student body. Instead of that soulful experience, the film presents a niche group of fans rooting on opposing sides of impromptu step competitions and mimicking the sacred hand gestures of the actual Black fraternities that inspired the film. The latter is a sin that would elicit a visceral, albeit respectful, response.

With most HBCUs located in America’s Bible Belt, there are many conservative values that often don’t align with some of the lifestyles of prospective students. Even the culture on campus isn’t totally void of any of the ills of society. They have, however, always been a haven for children of the ghetto, a refuge for young men and women who would otherwise fall victim to the criminal justice system. For example, DJ, the main character, has his enrollment threatened by a criminal record he was dishonest about while also positing Truth University as diametrically opposed to his “ghetto sensibilities,” both in regard to his art and his humanity.

There are nine organizations that make up the National Pan-Hellenic Council, colloquially known as the Divine Nine. Four of these are sororities. Save for a quick scene in a cafeteria, the women who add such beautiful feminine energy to the HBCU experience are ostensibly erased.

These fraternities and sororities are coexisting service organizations that cultivate scholarship, mentorship, school pride, and some of the most recognizable traditions in Black college life. In surrounding communities, their graduate chapters organize scholarships, voter registration, youth programs, health initiatives, and sustained public service. They function as lifelong networks of leadership, professional advancement, activism, and cultural continuity. Illustrating their influence across civil rights, politics, literature, athletics, and entertainment, their members have included figures such as Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. of Alpha Phi Alpha, Jesse Jackson of Omega Psi Phi, Zora Neale Hurston of Zeta Phi Beta, former Vice President Kamala Harris of Alpha Kappa Alpha, and Arthur Ashe and The Kulur Group’s very own Nicholas Love, both of Kappa Alpha Psi.

In the film, this glory has been whittled down to two warring dance factions priding themselves on a competition banner, with literal generations-long grudges over unrequited love. Such a depiction seems unbecoming of producer Will Packer, himself a member of Alpha Phi Alpha and an alumnus of Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, the preeminent HBCU in the state. Perhaps the issue was his handing over the reins of the film to French director and Pomona College alumnus Sylvain White or Robert Adetuyi, the York University alumnus from Canada who wrote the screenplay. Perhaps Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Incorporated, had the clairvoyant foresight to threaten a boycott of the film for unauthorized use of its trademarks before the studio removed them. They may have seen this train wreck for what it was and wanted no direct connection.

This isn’t the first, nor will it be the last, inaccurate depiction in film. The filmmakers would be forgiven if there were no accurate precedent for the depiction of HBCUs on television, but A Different World predates it by decades. One would also be forgiven if there were no accurate precedent for the depiction of BGLOs, but School Daze predates it by decades. This leaves a burning question: who is this movie for? In a similar fashion to hood films of the ’90s depicting a reality that Black people were either living or adjacent to by relation, this film very well may have been made for white people. As much as “hood films” feature myopic archetypes of Black people and urban neighborhoods, Stomp the Yard features a fever dream of palatable college iconography with an overlay of whatever they think college life is for young Black adults.

Twenty years later, Stomp the Yard remains entertaining only in fantasy, as it was critically panned Decent but unmemorable acting performances from a talented cast give the material more credence than the script earns. The film borrows the visual language of Black college tradition while stripping away the soul that gives those traditions meaning. What remains is a hollow competition movie where hallowed Black institutions exist to discipline a gifted hood kid and harbor glorified dance troupes.

Black people deserve better from one another.