Colman Domingo in ‘Sing Sing.’ (Photo courtesy of A24)
When Colman Domingo became a frontrunner for last year’s Best Actor Oscar – nominated for his star turn as the titular civil rights hero in “Rustin” – it was big news for the LGBTQ community. He was the first openly gay Afro-Latino to be nominated for the award. Had he won, he would have been the first openly gay actor to take the category, and only the second out queer performer to win in any of the acting categories. It would have been a milestone.
Yet his loss, somehow, didn’t seem much of a disappointment: Colman’s prodigious talent (also on display in last year’s “The Color Purple”) seemed to assure fans that it would get another chance – and “Sing Sing,” now in theaters nationwide after an auspicious debut at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival, might very well be the movie that gets it for him.
In it, Domingo portrays John “Divine G” Whitfield, an inmate at New York’s Sing Sing Correctional Facility who has become a pillar of the prison’s “Rehabilitation Through the Arts” (RTA) program, through which he and fellow participants collaborate on the creation and performance of theater presentations for the larger prison population. As the group plans its next play – a fantastical time-travel comedy combining an eclectic mix of classic storylines and characters – he is equally focused on a clemency hearing that might overturn his sentence for a murder he didn’t commit. That doesn’t stop him from reaching out to help a hard-case new recruit (Clarence Macklin) into the fold, despite the newcomer’s chip-on-the-shoulder attitude and a rivalry that threatens his own status as a “top dog” in the company. As both the performance and his hearing draw nearer, the inevitable hardships and humiliations of prison existence take their toll, culminating in a crisis of faith that threatens to undermine not only the upcoming play, but the unwavering resilience that has allowed him to resist the dehumanizing effects of his incarceration.
As co-written by Clint Bentley and director Greg Kwedar, the screenplay gives us little in the way of expository information, even skipping the formality of opening credits in favor of dropping us directly into the action, and instead allows us to glean the necessary background details as we go. It’s never an obstacle; Kwedar’s simple-yet-eloquent approach to presenting the narrative allows the actors to reveal information through nuance as much as through words; cinematographer Pat Scola helps by framing the visuals in a radiant natural light that lends warmth to the institutional bleakness of the setting, making it easy to be patient as we pick up what we need to know. These qualities subliminally allow us to keep a comfortable state of mind in a setting intended by definition to be deliberately UNcomfortable, which also facilitates our engagement with the creative energy of the troupe’s rehearsals – guided by a weathered director (Paul Raci) with a gift for teaching his charges to “trust the process” – and connects us with the theme of personal transformation through art, a thread that runs throughout the film and feels at least equally as significant as the details of any individual character’s personal story.
It’s this, of course, that gives “Sing Sing” its most profound and universal impact. Though any viewer might reasonably expect a movie about prisoners – most of them people of color from marginalized and disadvantaged backgrounds – to be geared toward a focus on issues of equity and social justice, Kwedar’s film allows those ideas to remain self-evident while placing its dominant weight behind the premise that artistic expression can function as both an escape from the suffering of a bleak everyday existence and a means of transcending it. Reinforced repeatedly in the narrative, most obviously in the inclusion of Shakespeare’s “To be or not to be” soliloquy from “Hamlet” but underscored through most of the material we see the inmates perform, this driving sense of hopeful purpose makes the story of Whitfield and his fellow prisoners into an unmistakable metaphor for anyone who has ever struggled to find meaning and peace in a cold and unpredictable world – and let’s face it, that means almost everybody.
Perhaps inevitably for such a film, “Sing Sing” occasionally seems to come off as one of those idealized Hollywood “feel-good” social dramas in which the heartaches and tragedies are overcome by hope and an undeterred spirit; the more cynical among its audience might well see it as “too good to be true.” Such judgments, however, become harder to render with the knowledge that – and it almost feels like a spoiler to reveal it, since the movie chooses to do so only when the credits finally roll at the end – not only is it a true story, but most of its cast (including Maclin, who plays himself) are actual alumni of the real RTA program, which operates in six New York State prisons. Not only that, the real-life Whitfield (who himself appears in a small role) and Maclin collaborated with Kwedar and Bentley on the story – so that, regardless of any dramatic license that may have been taken, there is an undeniable authenticity that is borne out by the inclusion of so many genuine “success stories” from the program in the film’s ensemble cast.
As for that cast, each of them gives an equally compelling performance, even when they only have a few minutes of screen time; Kwedar gives everyone moments to shine, and while some actors have more of those than others, all contribute equally to the film’s overall power to move us.
Still, it’s the major figures that have the biggest standout moments; Raci brings intelligence, compassion, and an air of nurturing authority to his role as the group’s seasoned director, and Maclin burns with the charismatic intensity of an experienced movie star – which he should, on the strength of this remarkable debut alone. Also worth mentioning is Sean San José, a close longtime off-screen friend to Colman, who mirrors their real-life relationship in his performance as a fellow inmate and confidante to add an extra touch of palpable camaraderie to their scenes.
“Sing Sing” ultimately belongs, however, to its lead player. Domingo is a fearless and powerful actor, something he has proven throughout his career and that has aided his rise to acclaim and stardom, and he brings those qualities to this role for an unforgettable star turn. Intelligent, erudite, passionate, vulnerable, and capable of delivering Shakespearean verse or prison slang with equal conviction and command, he elevates the movie while simultaneously blending seamlessly into its larger purpose. Perhaps best of all, there’s nothing about his performance that screams “awards bait” — and that, somehow, makes him even more deserving of receiving honors for it.
Whether he gets them or not, “Sing Sing” is a movie to be remembered — a testament to the power of art and the “invincible summer” that keeps us going when all of life seems intent on extinguishing our hope. It leaves us feeling inspired, renewed, and ready to face the world with a refreshed perspective.
It’s the rare movie that can manage that, so don’t miss this one.
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