Aryan is an Anthropology graduate and freelance critic with a fondness for melodrama and Westerns. His writing portfolio can be found here.
Aryan says...
Godard once claimed that the cinema is not an art which films life – instead, it is something between art and life. That platitude, though, is rarely embodied in terms that construe the relationship between the tactility of celluloid and the grit of lived experience as directly as in Greg Kwedar's Sing Sing, which draws upon the real-life experiences of members of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program, held at the Sing Sing prison.
Opening with an arresting image of John "Divine G" Whitfield (Colman Domingo) caught near the brink of tears mid-performance, the film situates the members of the RTA as performers first and inmates second – not dismissing the stresses of (often wrongful) incarceration, but instead positioning the theatre as a way for these performers to negotiate the distance between the freedom to choose an identity offered by thespianism and the everyday sanctions on their freedom of movement imposed by the prison.
Rehearsing everything from Hamlet to A Nightmare on Elm Street, Divine's troupe of performers are shot with a gracefulness of form that retreats from reinforcing depictions of incarcerated individuals as malignant criminals. Instead, the camera often lingers on the facial tics, creases, and swift but noticeable glances that signal the developing sense of brotherly camaraderie and mutual respect amongst the troupe, most of whom play themselves. Recalling Kiarostami's Close-Up, the film navigates theatre as a conduit for a distinctly masculine kind of repression to be overcome by simply stepping outside oneself.
Colette Fountain, 23
Colette is a London-based freelance journalist and barista whose writing can be found here.
Colette says...
Greg Kwedar's Sing Sing offers an immersive insight into a world often depicted as cruel and soulless. Through a somewhat Inception-like play-within-a-play, the film strikes the perfect balance of comedy and heart, portrayed through a stellar cast headed by Colman Domingo.
Despite its niche setting, the film expertly conveys the universal human experience. Whether it's grief, failed potential, or joy, there is a strong sense of relatability throughout. In contrast, parts of the film are painfully jarring; reminders of the cruelty that accompanies the treatment of prisoners as less than human. With its harsh scenery, documentary-style cinematography and intense soundtrack, the film navigates these two worlds, ultimately empathising with its undeniably likeable cast.
To call Sing Sing a character study feels unfair, as much of the cast are former inmates of the prison. Instead, it is a film about the power of community and friendship cultivated in an environment that tries to kill feeling. It is this sense of hope and resilience that endures throughout, resulting in a deeply moving picaresque of the failings of the justice system and the men who are persevering despite them.
Juliette, 23
Juliette is an events producer based in London. She writes novels, short stories and film reviews in her free time. Find more of her writing here.
Juliette says…
Colman Domingo is electric in Greg Kwedar's Sing Sing, a highly-strung drama which sets the stage for a somewhat out-of-the-ordinary depiction of life behind bars. Domingo is John "Divine G" Whitfield, an inmate dedicated to Rehabilitation Through the Arts, a program at the Sing Sing prison preparing to stage its original play, 'Breakin' The Mummy's Code'. Based on a real program of the same name, all besides Domingo and teacher Brett (Paul Raci) are alumni, lending Sing Sing a deeply authentic heart of which Domingo becomes the natural ringmaster, his mildly irritating advice or "May I?" interjections taking on a slightly different meaning in this context.
As Sing Sing so aptly demonstrates, however, even ringmasters have moments of weakness – as tragedy unfolds for Divine G, it is up to the others to hold him together. It is here that lies the most sincere beauty of the film – whether in a heart-to-heart between Divine G and his second-in-command Mike Mike (Sean San José), or Clarence "Divine Eye" Maclin's breakthrough performance exuding nervous energy, hesitant between drawing a knife or sobbing, Sing Sing expertly plays with backs-and-forths and borders, and the complicated reality of having to show strength and needing to show weakness. In the heartfelt words of Brett, the latter is something men don't get to do very often, and it's the reason why Sing Sing is that little bit more effective in its ability to showcase, without artifice, vulnerability at its most powerful.
Matthew Price, 23
When not at the cinema, Matthew works in political research, at a job he chose because of the streaming benefits.
Matthew says…
Early in Sing Sing, an imposing, heavily tattooed inmate auditions for the prison theatre programme and is asked about his previous acting experience. He smiles, and tells us: "I've been playing a role my whole life". The men of this film are used to playing roles prescribed to them by others. Their behaviour is dictated by strict prison rules, their peers' expectations, and especially norms of masculinity. The paradox the film explores to moving effect is that only onstage - amidst the artifice of costume, spotlights, and prepared lines - can these men really be themselves.
Refreshingly for a prison drama, most of the emotional wallop of Sing Sing comes in the form of joy. Tragedy does occasionally intrude on proceedings - usually by contrived means - but this never breaks the film's spell. Most of the magic is down to a brilliant ensemble cast, featuring several real-life alumni of the theatre programme at Sing Sing Correctional Facility. One alum in particular, Clarence "Divine Eye" Maclin, gives a subtly vulnerable performance which very nearly overshadows his more established co-stars. Casting these actors as fictionalised versions of themselves conjures an aura of authenticity which elevates the film above most others in the genre. This effect is complemented by the script's naturalistic dialogue and understated direction from Greg Kwedar. The result is genuinely lovely. Expect awards.
Luca, 26
Luca is a film studies graduate, currently working as a videographer and editor.
Luca says…
Sing Sing is a truly compelling story that tackles the sensitivities around being vulnerable and empathetic, one which bases itself around the real lives of prisoners coming together to perform in a theatre show. What's conveyed is wholly natural – not only Colman Domingo as John "Divine G" Whitfield, the protagonist, but from the entire cast within. Throughout the film, you get small but powerful insights into each character's own journey through their reactions to anger, friendship and loss. It shows how much of an impact having something like a theatre group provides in prison, and how vital it is to allow inmates to open up to those around them.
Sing Sing is a worthy visit to the cinema that will give you a fresh perspective on just how much the arts can allow people to open up and express themselves.
