REVIEW: Sing Sing [2024]

Rating: R | Runtime: 107 minutes
Release Date: July 12th, 2024 (USA)
Studio: A24
Director(s): Greg Kwedar
Writer(s): Clint Bentley & Greg Kwedar / Clint Bentley, Greg Kwedar, Clarence Maclin & John Whitfield (story) / John H. Richardson (article “The Sing Sing Follies”) / Brent Buell (musical “Breakin’ The Mummy’s Code”)

We here to become human again.

It’s may seem redundant to say this six-month period for ‘Divine G’ (Colman Domingo) isn’t full of many “wins” considering he’s incarcerated in Sing Sing maximum security prison for a crime he didn’t commit, but he’s also a man with hope in his heart and empathy in his soul. So, it matters when the guy he brings into the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program he helped found starts taking the things he took for granted. This was supposed to be G’s time to shine with the group performing an original play by him before Clarence ‘Divine Eye’ Maclin (played by Maclin himself) suggests doing a comedy instead. And when said comedy includes a single dramatic role for G to excel on-stage, Maclin’s first timer somehow takes that too.

So, we anticipate fallout throughout the start of Greg Kwedar’s Sing Sing (written by him and Clint Bentley from stories of Maclin and the real ‘Divine G’, John Whitfield, that were chronicled via an article by John H. Richardson) because it seems the hits keep coming. Sure, they get under G’s skin—especially since Maclin doesn’t seem to be embracing the emotional challenges the RTA seeks to help these inmates confront—but that optimism and compassion simply rise higher. This man that no one could blame for shutting down as appeal after appeal fails understands the power of the arts and sees his purpose within these walls as a shepherd to help other men conquer the demons that landed them there in the first place. And that includes Maclin.

You’d be forgiven then for believing the film is solely about softening a gangster’s edges rather than the communal spirit of vulnerability and brotherhood that impacts every character’s arc. Yes, Maclin becomes the exemplar of the program’s success through a gradual acceptance towards opening himself up in ways he’s never done before, but G himself is an exemplar of just how difficult the struggle is regardless of whether you think you have it figured out. That’s the crucial push and pull of the whole: Maclin finding belief in himself to take a chance on the system that put him here being able to also get him out and G reckoning with the reality that justice is too gray to stop him from inevitably relapsing into the crisis of faith he thought he’d already conquered. Life isn’t fair.

The inherent futility of that truth is what the RTA program seeks to mitigate through art therapy, escapism, and friendship. It’s a tenuous balance that’s not without its breaking points, but the hope is that it can serve as the safety net and security system necessary to reclaim balance. But it only works if you’re willing to give as much as you get in the case of Maclin or trust in it as much as you ask it to trust in you in the case of G. Anything less is hypocrisy on both sides of the equation because the work G does to elevate and empower men like Maclin rings hollow if he’s not willing to believe they’ve changed enough to elevate and empower him right back. That’s just ego. That’s what he helped strip away from everyone around him while still fighting against his own.

It’s a dynamic that leads to some really heavy drama in the back half. Sing Sing will trick you into assuming it’s all going to be uplifting feel-good fare at the start with everyone embracing the light-hearted nature of putting on an absolute farce of a comedy (“Breakin’ The Mummy’s Code” is a time-traveling adventure through disparate classics spanning Hamlet to A Nightmare on Elm Street and was written by RTA volunteer director Brent Buell, played in the film by Paul Raci). This thing moves smoothly through every setback as G embraces his role as cheerleader while Maclin sheds his hardened façade. So, we prepare for a stream of happily ever afters to follow before … Bang! Tragedy strikes to shake their headspace as even more setbacks erupt. When it rains, it pours.

Maclin and Domingo are thus tasked with carrying their characters through the internal chaos to exit out the other end via the brotherly love they’ve cultivated through this program. The latter is an Oscar-nominated actor who will probably earn his second chance at the award because of this heart-wrenching portrayal, but the former is a product of the very RTA chapter depicted on-screen without any professional acting experience. Well, Maclin more than holds his own both through the authentic evolution of his character and connection with his acclaimed scene partner. The film is never better than when these two are together because you really get a sense of how fine the line separating us is. No matter our pasts or actions, a shared humanity remains.

That’s not to say moments between Domingo and real-life best friend Sean San José as Mike Mike won’t make you smile ear-to-ear or shed a few tears too (one indelible scene has them in separate cells talking through the doors with a level of heartache and understanding that makes us forget they aren’t sitting side by side). Or that the rest of the cast of RTA alums playing themselves won’t also steal the spotlight (Sean ‘Dino’ Johnson delivers an anecdote that epitomizes the entire ethos of what’s happening to perfection). They corroborate the statistic that men enrolled in RTA programs have only a three percent recidivism rate. The escapism and sense of purpose are huge, but it’s the bonds forged by steel that makes it possible. Whatever nightmare might arise, they won’t face it alone.