In 1995, John Singleton, then a young and already acclaimed director at 26, described his upcoming film, Higher Learning, to Charlie Rose with stark candor: “I am a black man in America. I have so much angst. So that’s what I’m going to write about.” This statement, delivered with a mix of weariness and determination, encapsulated the raw nerve that Singleton tapped into throughout his career, particularly in Higher Learning. Coming after his groundbreaking, Oscar-nominated debut Boyz n the Hood, Higher Learning was intended to be more than just another film; Singleton envisioned it as a reinvention, a broader, more encompassing commentary on America itself. This ambition cemented Higher Learning as a crucial, albeit initially underappreciated, work in understanding both John Singleton’s directorial vision and the complex social fabric of the United States.
As Singleton himself articulated, Higher Learning transcends the personal narratives of his earlier work, evolving into a powerful metaphor for the entire nation. He and his team constructed a fictional college campus to mirror the deep divisions and societal misgivings prevalent in America. The film follows three freshmen – Malik Williams (Omar Epps), Kristen Connor (Kristy Swanson), and Remy (Michael Rapaport) – as they navigate the turbulent landscape of Columbus University. Through their intertwined stories, Higher Learning fearlessly tackles a range of critical issues: sexuality, sexual assault, and, most prominently, the pervasive nature of racism. Singleton’s objective was clear: to “unlearn” ingrained, hegemonic ways of thinking, to provoke audiences into confronting uncomfortable truths about American society. He stated to SBS Australia in 1995, “American college campuses are the only place you can see America in its purest form.” This microcosm allowed him to magnify everyday societal perils, expose deep-seated differences, and project his incisive vision of the nation onto the big screen.
Alt text: Director John Singleton guides Tyra Banks on the set of ‘Higher Learning’, illustrating Singleton’s hands-on approach to crafting authentic narratives about the American experience in higher education.
From the opening frames, the American flag is deliberately placed, often in the foreground or background, visually framing the characters’ experiences as inherently American. Kristen’s journey begins with the trauma of sexual assault, an ordeal she chooses not to officially report, echoing the painful reality faced by countless survivors. Her poignant line, “It’s not going to do anything. They’re just going to make me feel like shit and make me look like I asked for it,” resonates with the experiences shared by many women, highlighting the systemic failures in addressing sexual violence. Kristen’s path to healing, found through relationships with activist Taryn (Jennifer Connolly) and Malik’s roommate Wayne, is portrayed not as a simple fix, but as a gradual process of rebuilding trust. Singleton emphasized to Roger Ebert his commitment to portraying Kristen’s story with authenticity and sensitivity, ensuring it felt “real” and not exploitative.
In stark contrast, Malik’s awakening is fueled by the insidious reality of systemic racism. At Columbus University, a predominantly white institution, Malik encounters hostility at every turn. Subtle yet telling moments, like Kristen clutching her bag tighter when he enters an elevator, underscore the ingrained prejudices. Campus security disproportionately targets and mistreats black students, while microaggressions from white students, such as labeling black students as “gang members,” are commonplace. Malik’s frustration boils over as he confides in Professor Phipps, played by Laurence Fishburne, about the constant “trippin when they see a black face.” His realization that the racism is “more mental” than physical highlights the psychological toll of persistent prejudice. A harrowing standoff with campus security, where his life is threatened despite his innocence, pushes Malik to seek refuge and understanding within his own community, finding solace with his friend Fudge (Ice Cube). To Wayne, a protesting white student, Malik explains his breaking point: “I’m at the point where I feel safer and more comfortable with my own people.”
Singleton identified Malik as “his voice in the film,” a conduit for his own experiences and observations. Through Malik’s eyes, Higher Learning confronts the audience with the raw reality of campus racism, mirroring Singleton’s own feelings of alienation within the Hollywood system. Malik’s powerful statement, “Seems like this whole system is set up towards maintaining white supremacy,” directly reflects sentiments Singleton himself voiced regarding the film industry. He frequently expressed unease about the limited space afforded to black voices in Hollywood. In a 2014 Hollywood Reporter event at Loyola Marymount University, Singleton criticized the industry’s desire to confine black artists to predetermined roles, stating, “They want black people to be who they want them to be, as opposed to what they are.” He felt a constant pressure to compromise his artistic freedom, a sentiment echoed in Malik’s on-screen struggle against a system designed to limit him. The poignant exchange between Malik and Fudge about his athletic scholarship – “Run, nigga, run” – sharply illustrates the transactional nature of opportunities offered to Black individuals within a system built on racial inequality.
Perhaps the most disturbing storyline in Higher Learning, and arguably the most tragically prescient, is the radicalization of Remy. Initially an aspiring engineer, Remy’s descent into white supremacy is a chilling portrayal of isolation and manipulation. Revealed to have been raised by an abusive “survivalist” father, Remy is vulnerable to extremist ideologies. Under the cover of darkness and the shadow of the American flag, he is recruited by skinheads, marking the beginning of his devolution. The skinheads’ rhetoric, laced with fear and hate – “We’re white in America. What more do you need?” and “How do you feel knowing that this country doesn’t belong to you any longer?” – eerily foreshadows the language of contemporary white supremacist movements.
Higher Learning culminates in a horrific act of violence: Remy becomes a school shooter. Challenging the “lone wolf” narrative often applied to such perpetrators, Singleton underscores the reality of pack mentality and the enabling environment fostered by white supremacist groups. Remy’s act of terror not only emboldens his fellow cult members but transforms him into a martyr within their twisted ideology. In the context of escalating hate-motivated shootings in places like Poway, Christchurch, and Pittsburgh, this aspect of Higher Learning resonates with a chilling and deeply unsettling power, proving tragically relevant decades after its release.
Upon its initial release, Higher Learning‘s avant-garde social commentary was met with a mixed critical reception. While Roger Ebert acknowledged Singleton’s “clear eye and a strong will” and praised the film for not offering “easy answers,” many reviews, including those from Variety and Rolling Stone, lauded its thematic depth but critiqued its execution as “uneven” or “shouty.” However, in retrospect, particularly in today’s social and political climate, Higher Learning stands as a vital and disturbingly accurate reflection of American society.
In a 2019 interview with BlackGirlNerds, Singleton was reminded of a scene in Higher Learning where Fudge questions whether Malik would stand for the national anthem given the country’s racism. The interviewer drew a parallel to Colin Kaepernick’s protests, prompting Singleton to reflect on the film’s uncanny foresight. “I watched the movie recently, and I was like, ‘Whoa!’ I can’t believe that I was on that back in 1994, 1995!” This moment underscores the enduring relevance of Higher Learning and John Singleton’s profound understanding of America’s ongoing struggles with race, identity, and social justice.
Even when contemplating his own legacy, Singleton’s prescience shone through. In 2014, when asked which film he would want to represent him after his death, he hesitated, grappling with the notion of mortality. Ultimately, he expressed a desire to be remembered for his passion and for the distinct “soulful statement” each of his films offered. With Higher Learning, John Singleton undoubtedly succeeded in unnerving his audience, using difficult and essential subjects to illuminate the deeply scarred soul of America. Higher Learning was and remains a powerful exposé, a film that declared then, and continues to declare now, that America still has much unlearning to do.
