(Check out Chris Reed’s Sing Sing movie review, in theaters August 2 via A24. Seen it? Join the conversation with HtN on our Letterboxd Page.)
A lovely paean to the splendor of humanity, Sing Sing—from longtime cinematic partners Greg Kwedar (Transpecos) and Clint Bentley (Jockey)—offers an inspiring look at how creativity can transform lives in seemingly unlikely places. The film presents a dramatization of the great work done by the organization Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA), which brings arts programs into prisons. If RTA’s real-life results are anything like what we see here, then it should be in every prison in America.
Though there are many people who were once incarcerated starring in the movie, lead character Divine G—based on John “Divine G” Whitfield, an early participant in RTA—is played by the great Colman Domingo (If Beale Street Could Talk). Convicted of a crime he insists he did not commit, Divine G may hope for exoneration or clemency but is otherwise fully invested in making life inside the titular prison more than merely bearable; through his actions and those with whom he collaborates, it can be beautiful. He’s an actor, writer, and leader.
After an opening that gives us the end of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, performed to great applause (from those inside as well as from outside visitors), we slowly get to know the various characters. It’s a bit of a shock to go from the stage to the jail block, as much for the onscreen folks as for us. One moment they are free of spirit and (almost) of body; the next, they are back to being treated as dangerous criminals. Whatever the reasons that landed them in Sing Sing, the transition is no doubt abrupt and dehumanizing.
But before long they are back at it, planning the next show. There’s a core group of enthusiasts who appreciate what RTA does for them, though they are eager for new recruits. And so Divine G and his next-door cellmate and friend “Mike Mike” (Sean San José, The Other Barrio) make the rounds, auditioning potential new troupe members, among them Divine Eye—played by the actual Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, another formerly incarcerated person who discovered RTA while in Sing Sing—who seems an improbable candidate for the theater, yet signs on anyway.
Where Divine G is all intellectual fervor, Divine Eye is brawn and aggressiveness. Both men are far more than they initially appear, however, and one of the joys of the movie is watching them and others lean into the parts of the new play in the works. That show turns out to be something of a running gag (though we see from end-credit video footage that it really happened), given that it is a compendium of everyone’s suggestions of what should go into it: there’s a little bit of every genre and many famous characters from film and theater all thrown into the mix. Funny though it may be, it proves powerful as well as cathartic.
The narrative is a journey of healing and growth. Director Kwedar takes the time to carefully introduce all members of the ensemble (which includes Paul Raci, of CODA fame) so that when crises erupt, we are fully invested in outcomes. Such fraught moments notwithstanding, the final takeaway is of joy and friendship. These men—mostly men of color, given the vast inequities of our prison system—refuse to be reduced to the time they serve, insisting on their value as individuals, and in Sing Sing, they each sing loudly, indeed.
– Christopher Llewellyn Reed (@ChrisReedFilm)
A24; Sing Sing movie; Greg Kwedar; Clint Bentley; Colman Domingo; RTA; Rehabilitation Through the Arts
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