Colman Domingo leads an impressive ensemble cast in Greg Kwedar’s affecting drama. Here’s our Sing Sing review.
Grew Kwedar’s powerful Sing Sing begins in the blinding lights of a stage. Colman Domingo’s Divine G is performing and the camera observes his face as he runs through his dialogue with conviction.
From the opening shots, you’d never guess Sing Sing takes place inside prison walls. Kwedar’s film, which he wrote the script for together with Clint Bentley, is based on the real Rehabilitation Through the Arts program in Sing Sing Maximum Security Prison, which has been running for several decades. John “Divine G” Whitfield and Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin have also contributed to the story and Maclin also appears in the film, playing himself.
Colman’s Divine G is one of the founding members of the program, which produces a new play every six months and allows new members to join the group. They’re led by Paul Raci’s Brent, who runs the sessions and directs the plays as well as offers much needed guidance and camaraderie for the inmates. For the first time, the group attempts to stage an original comedy, one with gladiators, mummies, Freddy Krueger and time travel, which leaves Divine G, who’s more of a drama guy, feeling a little left out.
From the very beginning, Sing Sing challenges our ideas of what goes on inside prisons. We’re used to seeing a lot of violence, drug dealing, sexual violence, but Sing Sing, while never denying all of that happens, focuses on something different. The film’s narrative is coloured by optimism, even in its darkest moments. The word “life-affirming” is often used too much in reviews but it’s a description that fits Sing Sing perfectly.
We observe as this group of tough, tattooed men do acting exercises, walking around the room like zombies or performing extravagant monologues. There’s a playfulness in both the performances and Kwedar’s direction that brings huge amounts of warmth and empathy to Sing Sing. The film is at its best when the camera just observes the men rehearsing and performing. There’s a real sense of brotherhood between the men as they all find purpose in these productions, which disrupts their disappointing reality inside the walls. “We’re here to become humans again,” one inmate states.
The film’s best scene is an audition scene where the men are trying out for different roles in the play. It’s a scene that’s both funny and moving as the men swish around with pretend swords as if they’re gladiators in an arena or deliver monologues. It reminds us that performing is playing and that gives the men their freedom inside the walls of Sing Sing.
Sing Sing does run a little long, but Kwedar’s unintrusive, subtle direction helps the film. Kwendar aims to explore incarceration from a unique perspective, but successfully avoids sensationalism. There are no scenes of guard brutality and most of the conflict comes from the growing pains of Divine G and Divine Eye’s friendship. Sing Sing is also a surprisingly funny film. There’s a careful balance of drama, underlined by tragedy, and the humour, which makes the film all the more humane.
But this is really an actors’ film. Domingo gives a gripping, devastating performance, but he’s equally matched by Maclin’s more sensitive performance. Aside from Domingo and Raci, most of the inmates are played by real-life veterans of the program and you might think Sing Sing is an awards-bait-y weeper. Tragedy is a part of the story for sure, but the film is never defined by it. That would have been an easy route to take with the narrative, but instead, Sing Sing is a celebration of theatre, life and performance. A really special film, this one.
Sing Sing is in UK cinemas on 30th August
