Sing Sing Correctional Facility is one of the oldest penal institutions in America, notorious for its history of harsh conditions and dehumanizing treatment of its inhabitants. Nearly two centuries after its construction, this infamous prison serves as a backdrop for a groundbreaking film that uplifts the voices of formerly incarcerated individuals, offering a powerful perspective on how art and community, rather than punishment and isolation, can produce justice and transformative change.
Directed by Greg Kwedar, A24's Sing Sing focuses on participants of Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA), an organization that uses arts as a tool to support emotional, social, and cognitive growth within prisons. While RTA programs include a broad offering of artistic workshops, the film focuses exclusively on participants of its theater program.
The artistry of Sing Sing is undeniable, contrasting the physical and emotional freedom of theater against the confinement and repression of prison. A theater stage adorned with colorful lights and drapery is juxtaposed to the desaturated colors of the prison's architecture. Expressive costumes are replaced by worn prison uniforms designed to strip these men of their individuality. Pulling away from inside the prison's walls, the camera arranges the harsh structure against the lush rolling hills and glimmering water of the Hudson River Valley.
The heart and soul of the film, however, lies in the vulnerability and camaraderie of its cast composed almost entirely of formerly incarcerated individuals and participants of the RTA program. Led by Oscar-nominated actors Colman Domingo (as John "Divine G" Whitfield) and Paul Raci (as Brent Buell) with a standout performance from RTA alumnus Clarence Maclin, the film empowers these men to reclaim their narratives, actively participate in telling their stories, and share equitably in its earnings. In placing these men in the spotlight, the film provides a vehicle for justice and empathy rather than judgement.
The audience is taken backstage with these men, capturing their humanity in a way that challenges the dehumanizing portrayals of currently and formerly incarcerated individuals—and Black and brown men, more specifically—that are too often normalized in film and other mediums. Theater in particular provides a space for these men to openly express their emotions on and off stage, a sharp contrast to the prison environment where, as Maclin described, "You really don't want to show empathy, sympathy, or any of these softer emotions because they would be looked at as a weakness, and you'd possibly be taken advantage of because of it."
Through acting and the embrace of fictionalized roles, these men become more connected with themselves and each other, and the fate many feel they are bound to. "We, as Black and brown men, understand that the world has already set up and designed roles for you," said Colman Domingo. "It's an act of subtle revolution to redefine yourself and to hold on to that because I think that's also holding onto your humanity and your own definition of yourself."
Sing Sing steers clear of the harsh and violent tropes too often seen in depictions of prison, but does not shy away from the trauma and pain these men confront on their journeys toward healing. Moments of joy and vulnerability are interwoven with frustration, sadness, and fear. In portraying a nuanced picture of humanity, the film invites audiences to confront the tragic experiences that lead many to fall and remain in the criminal justice system and the fate society often seals for them by denying meaningful opportunities for redemption.
When combined, these aspects make for a critically acclaimed film expected to be nominated for Best Picture at this year's Academy Awards. However, the film's achievements extend far beyond acclaim as it challenges audiences to rethink the traditionally punitive approach of America's criminal justice system, a focus of RTA's mission. Studies showed that RTA participants had significantly fewer and less severe infractions within prison and pursued and completed more education after starting RTA compared to matched groups of non-participants. Since the program's inception in 1996, less than 3 percent of RTA members have returned to prison—a sharp contrast to the roughly 40 percent that return to prison within three years—underscoring the potential of art in breaking cycles of incarceration.
In one of the film's final scenes, Brent Buell, the volunteer director of the group, said, "Who would've thought that the healing of the world would begin right here behind the walls of Sing Sing?"
Programs like RTA have the power to heal far beyond the walls of Sing Sing, just as this film can spark change beyond a theater, a home, or the physical and metaphorical walls that divide people from one another. By inviting audiences to reconsider the harms of punitive justice, Sing Sing offers an alternative path toward lasting accountability, healing, and redemption.
Brian Edsall is a freelance writer and photographer based in New York. His work can be viewed at BrianEdsall.com.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
English (US) ·