
A drama about the experiences of inmates participating in a theater program at the titular prison, featuring actual veterans of the program.
Sing Sing, a film from director Greg Kwedar, is set, as you might expect, in the famous almost 200-year-old New York State prison thirty miles north of the city called Sing Sing, the name being a distorted version of a Native American name for that area. I’ve only been aware of it through old Hollywood prison movies up until now. But this film takes place in the real Sing Sing of today.
In a large auditorium in the penitentiary, a small group of inmates on folding chairs are talking about what play they want to perform this year. They did a Shakespeare play last time, and it was good, but they agree that this time they’d like a break from the rigors of Shakespeare. This is all part of a program called RTA: Rehabilitation Through Art. Inmates take part in the writing, production, and acting of plays, one per year, as a way of helping them rise above the anger and depression that is so prevalent for people doing time.
There’s an old guy played by Paul Raci who works for the prison as the director of this program, and he looks like he could have been a convict himself at some point. We soon notice the most committed member of the troupe, one of the founding members, a tall studious man in his 50s wearing glasses named John Whitfield, who for some reason has been nicknamed “Divine G.” Divine G. is played by the distinguished actor Colman Domingo. The character has written several plays himself, and is also an outstanding performer. Domingo brings an air of quiet assurance to the role—Divine G, is a fully realized character, a man who practices compassion for others, and is meanwhile working to prove that he’s not guilty of the murder charge that put him there. An admirable man, yet not immune from periods of disappointment and despair.
He’s the one mainly responsible for recruiting new people into RTA, and as such he’s kind of the engine that keeps things going. One of the first scenes in the movie has him observing a very tough guy threatening another inmate whom he claims owes him money. It so happens that this street criminal also has a divine nickname, “Divine Eye,” a man who acts like he sees through everything. He’s an unlikely candidate, belligerent and touchy about being told what to do, and he assumes an habitually hostile attitude. Surprisingly, he agrees to be in the program, and soon enough he seems to be making a play for taking over the leadership from Divine G. The tension between the two men is smartly conveyed. But this relationship turns out to be more interesting than we might expect.
Kwedar submerged himself in research on the prison environment in filming this story. He and his script editor, Clint Bentley, fashioned, with the help of real inmates and participants in the program, a screenplay that sounds like the way men in prison really talk. There’s no sentimentality, no awkward attempt at being heartwarming or uplifting. There’s just a commitment to portray these characters honestly. Domingo and Raci and a few others are professional actors. The rest are actual former Sing Sing inmates who were part of RTA, including Divine Eye, the real nickname for Clarence Maclin, who served time for armed robbery and is a veteran of the RTA program.
There’s nothing phony about this movie. The rehearsals, for instance, seem remarkably like actual theater rehearsals. Sing Sing powerfully expresses how it feels to be incarcerated, and the difficult inner struggles that prisoners endure.
