Robert Flynn guides us through Greg Kwedar’s Sing Sing - a film that explores how theatre can act as an escape, even from within prison.
Sing Sing (2024) begins with an ending. A closing soliloquy from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream is delivered eloquently by Colman Domingo, who plays John ‘Divine G’ Whitfield. Laughs and effusive compliments are shared backstage among the rest of the cast after they’ve taken their final bows and taken in the rapturous applause. But, every ending, whether it be hopeful or tragic, leaves behind the question - what’s next?
The inmates at Sing Sing Correctional Centre have all faced ‘endings’ of their own throughout their lives. With many of the characters facing lifetime sentences, they’ve turned to the theatre program in their search for avenues to transcend the harsh reality of the prison walls - and discovered theatre as a way to recentre and regain a sense of self-worth.
There are no unimportant characters in Sing Sing; everyone gets a close-up, and they all get a chance to start over.
Divine G (Colman Domingo) holds court in the Sing Sing theatre program. Being a playwright himself, the other inmates look to him for guidance. He is empathetic, wanting what’s best for the program and for those who partake. He is eager for others to gain insight from the programme’s productions and vouches for the belligerent and defensive Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, played by Maclin himself, to join the troupe after he unexpectedly signed up for the program. Very quickly, Divine Eye begins to break the mould of the theatre programme and threatens G’s sway over the group. He convinces the other inmates to choose a more comedic and nonsensical production instead of the usual dramatic and tragic Shakespearean plays. He also wins the role of Hamlet in the group’s self-written time-travelling, genre-bending comedic play, a role which G presumed would be his. Divine G is concerned by the events which unfold but refuses to be pliable when facing change.
The relationship between Divine G and Divine Eye is both the core and driving force of the film. Both characters are juxtaposed quite effectively together, underscoring the deep-rooted differences between them. Divine Eye strolls around the halls and courts of the prison with an intimidating air about him at all times. As far as he’s concerned he can live life inside the prison walls to a higher degree than he could outside of them. Divine G has his own interiority figured out but struggles to find contentment in his life. He’s found himself beleaguered as he tries to prove his innocence for a crime he did not commit. In a fight for his freedom, the once optimistic Divine G begins to feel as though his ending may lie within his cell.
Both G and Eye find solace in the theatre and within one another. In a brief and sensitive scene, Divine Eye expresses that though the prospect of embodying Hamlet excites him he fears that the experience will not allow himself to discover who he is fundamentally. He fears that he cannot escape being a criminal. Just as Divine G loses hope in being granted freedom, Divine Eye feels as though he cannot access who he is on the inside to enact change. A poignant solution is found for them in the theatre. They find that acting enriches not only their lives but their soul too. While they transcend their reality only briefly, they are filled with emotion and perspective. They are transcended beyond their realities and their troubled pasts; for a moment, they can permeate any wall.
Though it can feel that at times director and co-writer Greg Kwedar should be giving more insight into the systematic oppression and societal factors that have kept Divine G and other inmates in the correctional facility, the soulfulness of the film sings through.
Kwedar’s camera seems to love everyone. Shots whirl around backstage and meditatively pan around scenes to show each character's reaction. Each actor (most of which are primarily playing themselves) are given multiple closeups and medium shots to truly build character through performance and not through lousy, off-handed exposition. The prisoners at Sing Sing are never belittled or reduced to their crimes; everyone gets a chance to build their characters without judgement on screen.
What will undoubtedly be one of the most touching films of the year is a triumph. While Domingo and Maclin steal the show, the supporting cast are all allowed to give insight to how our setbacks and individual tragedies can often trap our need to move forward and our need to find meaning. What’s the point in doing another take, who cares for another interpretation of “To be or not to be”, and what could a play do for me? Sometimes, it’s not the process of doing something or even the outcome that helps us to move forward. Rather, it’s what we find when we read between the lines and immerse ourselves. It’s these things that will grant us new beginnings.