Director: Greg Kwedar
Writers: Clint Bentley, Brent Buell, Greg Kwedar
Stars: Colman Domingo, Sean Dino Johnson, Clarence Maclin
Synopsis: Divine G, imprisoned at Sing Sing for a crime he didn’t commit, finds purpose by acting in a theatre group alongside other incarcerated men in this story of resilience, humanity, and the transformative power of art..
Among the annals of prison films, Greg Kwedar’s Sing Sing posits itself as a first-of-its-kind. Instead of a lingering level of violence and societal breakdown, the film allows the sensitivity and vulnerability of imprisoned men to come to the forefront.
Devoid of sadistic guards, a deranged warden, or the tension of gang violence, this film instead gives a level of humanity and dignity to men who are otherwise deprived of such foundational understandings. The result is a prison film unlike any other before: raw, intense, powerfully performed, and unforgettable.
Colman Domingo stars as John “Divine G” Whitfield, an imprisoned playwright and actor serving a life-sentence at the titular prison. Along with a group of fellow incarcerated persons, Divine G participates in a program to put on plays and musicals called Rehabilitation Through the Arts (a real-life program at Sing Sing). Fresh off their recent performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the group plans their next production.
Divine G, along with best friend Mike Mike (Sean San Jose) partner with program director Brent Buell (Paul Raci) to add members to the group. One such candidate is Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin (playing a version of himself), a hardened criminal with a talent for acting. Divine G and the group attempt to bring Divine Eye into the quieter realities of the program while attempting to put on their own original production.
It’s easy to be cynical when it comes to male sensitivity inside the walls of a prison, but that is the crux of this film. Divine Eye’s struggles to adjust to the group dynamics are not borne out of stubbornness or defensiveness, but survival. How do you convert from a man who always is looking out for number one instead of relying on his faith in others? What does that adjustment mean in a world where each of these men is looking to escape these walls? The film isn’t interested in prison reform or dynamics, but instead on the humanity of men who the world has forgotten about.
It sounds like a tagline or a cliché, but it’s not about surviving in prison, it’s about living. Whether it’s doing these productions repeatedly or reapplying for parole upon rejection; the goal is forward momentum. No matter how devastating the circumstances or consequences may be, there is always a way forward. This program provides an outlet for these men to thrive and grow as humans.
Domingo continues to prove he’s one of the most gifted actors working today. As the unofficial head of the program, he feels the weight of the responsibility to these men as well as his own insecurities. Domingo has long shown his ability to morph from role to role, and this is yet another example of his mutable style translating to a tender drama.
Maclin is the true acting revelation. Whether he is reciting Hamlet, threatening a fellow prisoner, or recalling a story about his children, you know there is more than what’s under the surface. There’s a level of unvarnished naturalism you wouldn’t expect in a first-time actor playing a version of himself. But Maclin creates a fully-realized character with clear motivations and trepidations. It might be the supporting performance of the year.
Jose, relatively unknown to mainstream audiences, is more than willing to display his ability. While many of the inmates look towards their potential release, Mike Mike can only look back in regret. His quiet sadness engulfs him. Jose balances this sadness with his acting enthusiasm to cultivate a devastatingly effective portrait. Raci crafts the perfect balance of a man who knows how to handle guys like this while also acting as an audience go-between. Much like his emotionally sensitive performance in Sound of Metal, the veteran character actor is a welcome presence of familiarity.
Among the cast, Domingo, Jose, and Raci are the only “actors” in the film. Each other character plays a version of themselves, while all being graduates from the actual program. That certainly doesn’t mean the actors are anything less than stellar. They all get their own little moments to shine with the presence and authority to perform in this setting.
Kwedar doesn’t overcomplicate things visually, instead giving his actors the breath to perform their roles in an understated way. No one is going too big or doing too much. As much as there are acting standouts, they also know how to seamlessly blend into the ensemble. That is due in no small part to Kwedar and co-writer Clint Bentley’s screenplay. It would have been very easy to add in some overly-dramatic prison subplot, but that never happens. Instead, the structure allows the performances and vulnerability to shine through.
Sing Sing is not the type of film you expect, and certainly not one you will ever forget. Not only is it a one-of-a-kind prison movie, it’s one of the best films of the year.
