Greg Kwedar’s Sing Sing is 90 percent social realism, 10 percent Hollywood syrup

Sing Sing. // Courtesy A24

Sing Sing is best when it lets its characters speak for themselves.

Contrary to what the A24 prison drama’s trailer may communicate, the movie—which follows inmates in New York’s Sing Sing Correctional Facility participating in a drama program—has a social realist vibe that calls to mind filmmakers like Mike Leigh or Ken Loach. Those directors’ films, like Sorry We Missed You or Secrets and Lies, turn a spotlight on the everyday lives of struggling working class folks by striving for honest, organic character interactions and scenarios highlighting how social systems fail people in need.

For the most part, the movie, directed by Greg Kwedar and made in collaboration with members of Rehabilitation Through the Arts—the real-life prison arts organization depicted in Sing Sing—succeeds at this. It helps that most of the film’s cast are playing themselves, with a couple of cameos from real-life figures in the circumstances where their roles are played by professional actors. But now and then, Kwedar and his crew turn up the emotion in inorganic ways that suggest they don’t trust the audience to get on board. It’s a flaw that takes what could be a great movie and knocks it down a peg.

Divine G (Colman Domingo) is an inmate at Sing Sing, serving 25 to life for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s on the steering committee for RTA, alongside his friend Mike Mike (Sean San José). The program, led by theater educator Brent (Paul Raci) allows the men in the prison to perform plays ranging from classical to contemporary to original work. It’s a vulnerable and humanizing activity that helps Divine G and his fellow group members to maintain dignity, community and confidence in an inherently dehumanizing environment.

When some slots in the program open up, Divine G and Mike Mike invite Divine Eye (Clarence Maclin), who’s long been on the waiting list, to join RTA. Their new member brings some ideas to the group that challenge Divine G’s longstanding position of leadership. At the same time, Divine G’s attempts to help the defensive Divine Eye open up to the group cause friction between the two of them that eventually turns into a deep bond.

The naturalistic performances and cinematography from Pig and A Quiet Place: Day One DP Pat Scola keep us grounded and present. These characters make it easy to know them, whether through their mannerisms during theater exercises, their enthusiasm for picking a play, or their interactions with each other. Some scenes, like when Brent encourages the men to think about an ideal moment or place silently, then share their mind’s-eye images with the group, are deeply vulnerable. The film doesn’t patronize these men, or make saccharine, unearned calls for empathy. The actors themselves are doing the work here.

Sing Sing. // Courtesy A24

That makes it particularly odd that Kwedar doesn’t seem content to let those honest interactions and powerhouse performances from Domingo, Maclin, San José, Raci and their collaborators stand on their own. Bryce Dessner’s mournful score, good though it may be, is almost unceasing, adding an air of tragic sympathy to scenes that either don’t reflect that emotion, or don’t need it at all to be effective. Another moment, in which Maclin’s Divine Eye—who’s playing Hamlet in the group’s production—tells Domingo’s Divine G that he “wears his slings and arrows on the inside” feels lifted from a totally different (and much worse) movie.

Here is where it’s helpful to note that this is only Kwedar’s second feature. A more seasoned filmmaker (like the ones behind the movies Sing Sing emulates) would know when not to gild the lily. Kwedar and his collaborators are so keen to get viewers on their level that they try harder than they need to to make it happen. That may be to the film’s detriment, but it’s an error come by honestly, and made with the best possible intentions.

To be clear, while these problems tarnish Sing Sing a little, they don’t take away at all from the film’s emotional impact. The bonds formed between the characters, the struggles they face individually with the lives they’re missing on the outside, and their tenuous sense of hope in the face of constant discouragement is moving. Each performance—which in a bigger studio film could easily veer into Awards-bait self-parody—is undeniably real. It’s just a slight disappointment that the movie can’t help but turn toward that Hollywood penchant for emotional manipulation when it’s already made its message clearly known.

Sing Sing is currently playing at AMC Town Center 20. It opens in other Kansas City theaters August 23.