Illustration by Michael DiMilo
Hard Time: Film Review of Sing Sing
★★★★1/2
By Geoff Carter
Prison films have been a Hollywood staple for years. I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, The Birdman of Alcatraz, The Green Mile, Cool Hand Luke, The Shawshank Redemption, and many, many more have all tried to depict the struggles, sufferings, and triumphs of men and women paying the price for their crimes. Many of these films, like Cool Hand Luke or Nickel Boys deal with the aspect of escape—or defiance of authority, the refusal to knuckle under to the iron fist of authority.
Some, like The Birdman of Alcatraz, address the indomitability of the human spirit, celebrating the determination for redemption that even the most oppressed will strive. Sing Sing, a recent A24 production, falls into the latter category. Based on the real-life experiences of prisoners in the Rehabilitation Through the Arts Program (RTA) at Sing Sing prison—and featuring about a dozen alumni of the program, including Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, Sing Sing is a complete departure from the typical prison movie. Part documentary, part feature film, and part prose poem, the film is an inspiring and heartfelt incursion into the landscape of hope, compassion, and collegiality.
The film opens with an inmate production of A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Divine G (Colman Domingo), the star of the troupe, respected for his talent, delivers a stirring monologue as Lysander. The RTA troupe is composed of a small number of inmates, who, like Divine G, are searching for an outlet for their frustration and hopelessness.
In a meeting after the production, the troupe lauds their success and discusses their next production. Needing to recruit a new member, Divine G and Mike Mike approach Divine Eye, a tough inmate who is acerbic and defensive. He accepts, but Divine Eye sees some of the troupe’s activities, including warm-ups as goofy and stupid. Divine G, who believes that the RTA can be a genuinely transformative experience.
When the group discusses their next production, G said he would like to do another drama, a piece he has written, but Eye suggests doing a comedy instead. The rest of the group agrees with him. The two clash again when G tells Eye that carrying a knife can jeopardize the entire project and Eye blows him off. Eventually, after weeks of rehearsal, when refining the “to be or not to be” soliloquy from Hamlet, Eye eventually comes around to G’s way of thinking, helped in no small part by other cast members, including a beautifully played dialogue by Sean Dino Johnson—an alumnus of the actual RTA.
During the production, Divine G helps Eye with the essay for his parole hearing while simultaneously getting ready to attend his own. It is not G’s first rodeo. While the Board acknowledges the good work he has done, they deny parole. Eye however, is paroled. Frustrated and angry, G lashes out at his castmates during dress rehearsal and storms off the stage, quitting RTA. Eye eventually talks him down and G returns, apologizing to the group. The comedy is presented to rave reviews.
In the film, and at Sing Sing, besides mounting productions, the RTA members participate in improvisation, writing, set construction, and acting exercises, all of which break down barriers of anger and patterns of criminality. In short, they start treating each other like human beings—and learning how to do so.
According to The RTA Website mission statement, “We use the arts as a tool to support emotional, social, and cognitive growth. Through the process, RTA participants gain critical life skills and agency, so they may change their lives while in prison and find success personally and professionally when released.” There is less than a three percent recidivist rate for RTA participants.
In a bravura production decision, Johnson and other members of the supporting RTA cast are the actual inmates who went through or are current members of the program. Colman’s Divine G is not the actual person (who does do a cameo later in the film), but Divine Eye, his protégé and mentee, is the actual prisoner actor—the man who lived the actual events. While I was aware that some members of the supporting cast were portraying themselves, I had no idea that nearly everyone, with the exception of Domingo, Sean San Jose as Divine G’s best friend Mike Mike, and Paul Raci as Brent Bueller, the outside director who works with the troupe, did time at Sing Sing and were RTA members. They do a remarkable job.
There is a gritty, claustrophobic quality to the film, caused in no small part by the fact the film is shot in 16mm as opposed to the industry standard 35mm. The smaller film gauge results in muted colors and the institution itself, while not shot at Sing Sing itself, is old, dingy, and decrepit. Even the scenes where Divine G goes to his happy place, a fenced window with a tiny open square looking out over the Hudson River, the pastoral landscape seems washed out, even dingy, perhaps reflecting Divine G’s frustration and despair—his hopelessness.
Perhaps because the actors have a history of working together in and out of prison, their camaraderie is genuine—and quite remarkable. From warm-up exercises orchestrated by their volunteer director/mentor Brent to the delightfully uninhibited brainstorming about what their next comedy should be about—everything from gladiators to pirates to ancient Egyptians to Freddy Krueger—to fundraising and set construction, these men demonstrate an affinity, trust, and compassion that seems to fill their lives. Colman Domingo, the outsider here, does a brilliant job portraying the unflaggingly optimistic and indefatigable Divine G. He is a gifted and talented actor who has recently been given opportunities—especially in Rustin—to show off his gifts.
Sing Sing toes a fine line between documentary and fictional narrative. If an audience member walked into the theater without knowing the real-life backstory of the RTA, the film would still be a compelling narrative. The fact that real RTA members play themselves in the film with little fanfare—until the ending credits—not only adds to the air of authenticity but demonstrates how this program, and the arts in general, aids in the development of coping skills, cooperation, sacrifice, and compassion. In this film, we see how theater has turned felons into menschen.
Sing Sing is a unique and beautiful cinematic experience. It is as lacking in artifice and frippery as the prison production it portrays. It is a more that a prison film. It is a testament to redemption, hope, and humanity.