In a recent op-ed piece for the New York Times, Ruth Whippman wrote that America is suffering from an under-the-radar male mental health crisis. Not only is there a paucity of instruction for boys and men to navigate relational skills and how to manage their interior emotional lives, but societal norms disallow men from accessing intimacy and empathy, seeing such ideals as weak and feminine. There is also a dearth of cinema that shows men accessing emotion. If you believe Hollywood, men are supposed to be solitary, decisive and immune to suffering, cut off from any sort of complex interior landscape of feeling. And though Sing Sing, Greg Kwedar’s new film about an acting troupe in the prison of its title may lack occasionally in its storytelling, the film is important for its ability to portray its male characters pushing through long-standing attitudes to arrive at a place of vulnerability.
Based on a true story, Sing Sing zeroes in on two men in the troupe: John “Divine G” Whitfield (Colman Domingo), the compassionate but sometimes prideful leader who writes most of the plays they put on and new recruit Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin (played by himself) the guarded drug dealer who not only begins to soften during the film but also helps Whitfield push beyond his carefully constructed notion of self that is holding him back from true acceptance.
Founded in 1996, Sing Sing’s Rehabilitation Through the Arts program allows inmates to develop skills in self-expression which in turn fosters better friendships, communication and compassion. But reaching those skills is difficult, a journey that Kwedar and his cast – made up of many real-life participants of the program – show as the characters run up against what society has taught them as the “right way” to be men.
The push-pull between Whitfield and Divine Eye carries the dramatic heft of the film. Whitfield sees his hegemonic position as star and de facto leader challenged by the newcomer while Divine Eye resists Whitfield’s attempts to plumb emotional depths in his acting, becoming angry and violent when pushed too far. Whitfield spends his free time absorbed in writing and reading. He believes that he has been wrongfully imprisoned and is researching how to get clemency. Whitfield also helps his fellow inmates with the same process. Meanwhile, Divine Eye rules the cafeteria and the yard, shaking down weaker inmates. The two men eventually learn from one another, forging a bond and friendship that defies the type of male role models that had likely once guided them.
The road is rocky, however. Divine Eye fears being a beta and challenges Whitfield’s position in the troupe almost immediately. He is cocksure and paranoid, often hair-trigger in his anger. When another member of the ensemble crosses behind him during practice, Divine Eye explodes. Meanwhile, Whitfield must reckon with his own pride when Divine Eye scores a plum role in the production. Along with his recent work in Rustin and The Color Purple, Domingo’s turn in Sing Sing should be a breakout role for the actor.
Though some of the story beats feel unnecessary, including the sudden, non-violent death of a cast member, it is important to remember that the script, written by Clint Bentley, is beholden to veracity. Based on a 2005 article for Esquire, the movie hews too close to reality, especially in its casting and the footage of the real troupe at its finale. The mental health crisis affecting men in America isn’t limited to prison but if even the most-hardened individuals can break through, find love in brotherhood and friendship. Sing Sing proves that the rest of us can learn something from the process and the struggle that leads to a place that is deeper and richer than our fear tells us that we can achieve.
Photo courtesy of A24
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