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.
On its surface, “Sing Sing” is about finding joy in the creative process, even and especially under the direst of circumstances, and below the surface, co-writer/director Greg Kwedar’s film is about the ultimate act of waiting. The film is based on several sources of inspiration – John H. Richardson’s 2005 “Esquire” article about a particular era of Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) as practiced in New York’s Sing Sing Correctional Facility, the original play “Breakin’ the Mummy’s Code” (performed by the incarcerated members of an acting troupe within the facility and written by the troupe’s director, Brent Buell), and the life experiences of the two men at the center of the narrative. It’s a bit of a chimera, much like the play being staged within the movie. It’s also a touching tribute to those two men.
They are John “Divine G” Whitfield, played in the movie by Colman Domingo, and Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, who plays a version of himself as many actors do in the scenes around him. Divine G was imprisoned for a 1988 murder that he did not commit and hopes to introduce evidence of his innocence at an upcoming clemency hearing. Divine Eye has a parole hearing not too far removed on that same timeline and hopes to hear the good news that he’s going home. Yes, the film is about waiting, in the sense that everything comes down to what answer awaits them in a fateful mail drop.
In the meantime, these men must figure out a way of using their time inside for their own benefit, and following its creation in 1996, RTA gives them an outlet of the type they might never have had on the outside. Paul Raci plays the film’s version of Buell, who leads the men, including Divine G and Divine Eye, in acting classes of a particularly unique kind. It’s not about nailing down an understanding of the precise craft as performers so much as it is about opening these men up to the type of expression that might clear away the cobwebs of their long periods of isolation. The experiment is working, as proven, not only by the evidence we see here and in the form of this ensemble but also by the fact that other correctional facilities in New York have since successfully implemented the program.
It becomes a lifeline in a certain way for all of them, and as relatively light as it is on the actual plot, the movie is so richly devoted to its depictions of the creative process that we are distracted from the fact that, really, not much happens in this screenplay. It amounts quite literally to a slice of life, which might have a solid resolution (it’s not a spoiler to say that Whitfield was released from prison, considering he and Maclin receive story credits) but doesn’t really see the need to begin itself at any true “beginning.” Clues about Divine G and Divine Eye’s reasons for being locked up are dropped casually into conversations, and a significant development for Divine G is his clemency hearing before a board of generally empathetic but also definitely dismissive members. This isn’t a biography of their lives, though.
Kwedar is giving us something quieter here, a more introspective and reflective film than it would be catering to a story that follows a typical structure. That does intrude on scenes like the clemency hearing and the fact that the film feels the need to resolve itself so conclusively seem like whispers of a more typical prison drama than this turns out to be. It barely matters because the performances from Domingo and Maclin are utterly naturalistic and feel thoroughly lived-in. Divine G has settled nicely into his life as the leading man in a series of plays, which he has now begun to write on his own, and Domingo is entirely credible as a man with these gifts in his repertoire.
Meanwhile, Maclin is doing much more than simply playing a version of himself, although it seems like, contrary to the liberties taken elsewhere in this story, this version is pretty close to the real man. Divine Eye begins the movie as someone convinced that, were he ever to get out of this prison, he would only be known as the gangster he was a lifetime ago and, through this service, realizes that his artistic nature as a boy was no coincidence. Now, he’s a huge personality, well-read in the classics – especially William Shakespeare, whose Hamlet is sort of played by Divine Eye in the stage production. The actor also gives us hints of an entirely new way to perform Shakespeare, which itself is quite the accomplishment, and does so while also communicating the character’s shifting personal goalposts through the simple expedient of his body language.
It’s like Maclin invented a new way to be an actor through this performance, which is utterly magnetic to witness at any given moment. As for that stage production, it leads to a series of amusing sequences that communicate just how weird a play it is – featuring cowboys, Roman gladiators, Freddy Krueger, and a lot of time travel. It’s also a comedy, and “Sing Sing” thankfully embraces that side of itself instead of delivering the dour prison drama that it only occasionally hints it could have become. The movie is touching but also light on its feet, which nicely cuts into the stark reality all around these men.
In Theaters Friday, August 2nd
