Greg Kwedar's Sing Sing delivers a beautifully tender yet aching portrait of incarcerated men who use the transformative power of art to process trauma and healing.
Premiering at TIFF 2023, the film chronicles New York's real-life Sing Sing Correctional Facility, where incarcerated men have the opportunity to participate in a program called "Rehabilitation Through the Arts," which allows them to stage productions in an effort to rehabilitate into society.
Sing Sing follows the story of two people in prison, John "Divine G" Whitfield (Colman Domingo) and Clarence "Divine Eye" Maclin (as himself), and their growing friendship. Through the Divines and other characters, Gwedar shows life in the maximum-security prison and the workings of the RTA program as they prepare production of a new play. The bond of brotherhood evolves and deepens as Divine G and Divine Eye realize they have more in common than either imagined.
Authenticity pulsates throughout the film, perhaps due to the fact that most of the cast are formerly incarcerated alumni of the RTA program, including Maclin. These performances offer sincerity and earnestness, forcing audiences to simply see the humanity on display. The cathartic nature of the roles as they mount the production carries a duality to it, when the emotional weight of their performances becomes a moment for each to process their own trauma in a safe space and learn to self-express.
When it comes to showcasing men of colour in film or any art form, there are many stereotypes and tropes that can prevent them from being seen in a vulnerable light. Sing Sing gives these men the freedom to portray tenderness. Maclin in particular showcases a raw, moving turn as Divine Eye that will stay with audiences long after the film's end — especially impressive given this is his first time acting in a film. He has a commanding presence, and his sheer talent is remarkable.
Like most of his work, Domingo has an undeniably dynamic presence — whether he is on the screen or stage. He displays grit and grace in equal measure, delivering monologues that leave the room eerily silent. Domingo effectively takes up space, while also giving room for his co-stars to shine. Rounding out the cast, Paul Raci plays program director Brent Buell, who also evinces a genuine soulfulness, even in the shortest of scenes.
A film like Sing Sing could have gone in so many different directions in telling this real-life story, with Kwedar aptly opting for the visual language of documentary-style filmmaking. Captured on 16 mm film with handheld camera movements and often punctuated with scenes of silent conversations that are heartrending, Kwedar gives the characters and actors a chance to tell their story unencumbered.
Sing Sing is an understated piece of art that sings loudly and boldly.