Divine G— Colman Domingo— and Divine Eye—Clarence Maclin— share a moment of vulnerability watching rehearsal.
From the very first scene, Sing Sing tells you that it is something unique, something you’ve never seen before. It is edgy, yet soft; dramatic, yet respectful; slow, yet gripping; profound, yet mundane; convicting, yet hopeful. Contradiction after contradiction, the movie challenges the audience to believe what they are seeing and carry it with them long after exiting the theater.
After reading an article from Esquire magazine about Sing Sing Maximum Security Prison’s Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program, director Greg Kwedar was set on making this movie. He campaigned for it for almost eight years before getting the chance to make that dream a reality. His passion for the material shines through every aspect of this masterpiece.
The film follows the RTA program as they put on a play written by the group. We watch each character work through the difficulties of incarceration and find meaning through their parts in the play. The main characters John “Divine G” Velazquez— portrayed by Colman Domingo— and Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin— portrayed by himself— are at the center of the plot. Divine G, a founding member of RTA, was wrongfully convicted and spends most of his time obsessively writing plays for the group and trying to prove his innocence. Divine Eye is new to the group and searching for something to care about.
Though the set-up might indicate a flashy prison drama, relationships, rather than plot, are at the center of this movie. There are very few major set pieces or emotional speeches. Instead, we watch each character slowly show us who they are through their part in the play and their interactions with each other.
The central relationship is between Divine G and Divine Eye. These men clash in ideology and responses to their situation, but through their growing friendship, the audience grows to understand and respect both men. The film uses that relationship to deliver convicting points about the U.S. prison system at large. As they cycle through indifference, anger, hope, and joy, we learn more about the trapped existence of the incarcerated.
The feelings of the characters also show up in the cinematography. The prison is shot very plainly. There are beautiful shots, particularly in the prison yard, but nothing looks grander than it is. Sing Sing feels like a place where someone could go crazy if they let themselves. That honesty makes the film’s points about incarceration without having to even tell us.
Taking that point even further, almost the entire cast are playing versions of themselves. Apart from Colman Domingo, Paul Raci, and Sean San Jose, all of the speaking actors—including Clarence Maclin— were formerly incarcerated at Sing Sing and participated in the RTA program. That choice could easily backfire and turn the movie into an exploitative pity-party. However, the film manages to let these actors tell us about themselves slowly and naturally. Clarence Maclin’s performance in particular evolves at the perfect pace, allowing him to tell his story in his own way.
It’s important to note that while characters are telling their own stories, rarely do they talk about how they got into Sing Sing. That aspect is small but very important to the movie’s ethos. It is not judging these men or avenging them in any way. It’s not trying to tell us that they did not deserve to be incarcerated. Instead, it presents us their reality and their hope.
That nonjudgmental reality is what makes this movie so important. It diverges from its genre through its unglamorous nature. Devastating things happen, which makes it hard to call this a feel-good movie. Yet, I still left it feeling hopeful.
I can say with confidence that this movie changed me. I will be thinking about it for a long time and revisit it often.
PLEASE see Sing Sing, and let it change you too.