Spoken by the two key characters in the prison-set drama “Sing Sing,” the word “beloved” is as moving as it is unexpected. It uplifts and gently shatters. It makes a case for the deep respect and deeper amity forged in a theater program set up at the eponymous maximum-security facility.
Colman Domingo imbues his character John Whitfield, a.k.a. Divine G, with a steadfast compassion but also the tamped-down frustrations of a man convicted of a crime he says he didn’t commit. And Clarence Maclin — a formerly incarcerated newcomer whose story, along with that of the actual Whitfield, the film is built upon — burrows into his former self in a finessed and fierce performance as Divine Eye, the prison-yard alpha who auditions for Sing Sing’s Rehabilitation Through the Arts theater program. That program is the movie’s other star.
The film, directed by Greg Kwedar from a script written with Clint Bentley, orbits the prickly relationship between G, a much-respected member of the R.T.A. ensemble, and Eye. We first meet Eye shaking down a wan mark and conducting his drug business in the prison yard. G and his best friend, Mike Mike (Sean San José in a poignant turn), watch, waiting to gauge Eye’s genuine interest in the acting program. There’s a long wait-list.
A published writer, G spends his time away from the rehearsal room in the library or at his typewriter building his clemency appeal or researching the cases of fellow inmates. Eye, possessing a gap-tooth smile he’s slow to reveal, is a psychological pugilist looking for the soft spot to land the hurtful punch.
From the jump, Eye challenges G’s standing. He’s the prince of the hard gaze. Nothing sits right with him. He thinks the warm-ups are goofy. (They are until they aren’t.) When a fellow actor crosses behind him during the blocking of a scene, he’s ready to pummel.
The Divines couldn’t appear more different. Which in the hands of other actors or a different director, might come off as a cliché. Instead, Domingo and Maclin offer a muscular minuet of wariness and trust. And, though it does not exactly flip allegiances, the film begins to unmask Eye’s vulnerabilities and reveal G’s blind spots.
With his seen-a-thing-or-two visage, the actor Paul Raci brings nuanced gravity as Brent, the program’s volunteer director and adviser. Brent is the writer of the kooky mash-up of a comedy the men vote to produce: “Breakin’ the Mummy’s Code.”
The cinematography (by Pat Scola) does its own cagey and elegant work, giving “Sing Sing” an undercurrent shine while evoking the rougher intimacy of a documentary. The movie’s casting — more than 85 percent of the cast participated in Sing Sing’s R.T.A. program — achieves something similar.
In “The Sing Sing Follies,” the 2005 article the film is based on, the writer John H. Richardson wondered if he was being soft for celebrating the performers of “Breakin’ the Mummy’s Code.” Some who find themselves moved by “Sing Sing” may ponder the same (our cynicism is vast). In honor of their characters’ (and their own) truths, growth and transformation, Domingo, Maclin and company earn our trust.
Sing Sing
Rated R for language throughout. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes. In theaters.
Read More: ‘Sing Sing’ Review: Divine Interventions
