The film is set within the real-life Sing Sing correctional facility in New York State and follows its groundbreaking rehabilitation theatre programme which involves inmates staging plays. The play in question this time round is a gloriously ramshackle, time-travel, genre mashup which one wouldn’t be surprised to see Oliver Puttnam stage in the next season of Only Murders in the Building. Domingo plays a real graduate of this programme in the formerly incarcerated John Whitfield, more commonly referred to as Davine G, while much of his supporting cast is made up of the programme’s alumni who play themselves.
Domingo offers perhaps his most accomplished performance to date as Whitehead. While he rightfully received acclaim, and an Oscar nomination, for his role as Bayard Rustin the role at times felt like it hemmed him into a caricature, while here he can unleash the full range of his raw and organic talents. The performance feels almost swan-like as we are simultaneously shown two sides to Whitehead; the effervescent hepcat who is admired by those around him, and the wearied and anguished man under the surface who is kicking frantically just to keep himself afloat. Domingo does a graceful job weaving these two men together and delivering a succession of emotional gut punches along the way.
However, the whole cast deserves praise for how they so readily and movingly inhabit their roles. There is such an ease and naturalism to their interactions which makes their relationships feel so authentic and allows the film to flow with a confidence which draws us into its world. The effortlessness on screen is so remarkable it makes the whole film feel almost off the cuff. Although I am sure it was hard fought through discipline and rehearsals. Paul Raci is also wonderful as the programme’s head taking on a role which is part theatre director, part counsellor, and part paternal figure. It would be easy to lose sight of his performance amongst the so many merits the film possesses but I certainly hope this does not happen and he gets the acclaim he deserves.
Plaudits should equally be heaped by the bucket loads to Kwedar’s direction. It is delicate and allows itself to fade into the back in service of his cast. However, it is incredibly effective as Kwedar combines gentle pan ins and outs with the use of roving handheld camerawork to create a world which feels dynamic yet confined. There is a sense of limitless hope and opportunity on screen, but one which doesn’t lose sight of the reality of the prison walls which surround it. The film feels simultaneously airy, bright, and dreamlike, but also grounded, physical, and honest.
Sing Sing is an understated yet magnificent piece of cinema which will move many people in profound ways. It feels meaningful and important, even in very intimate ways, and has the magnanimity and warmth to invite its audience to be part of its moment.