Some men would rather go to prison than to therapy. Or at least, some men do go to prison rather than to therapy. This intensely empathetic and non-judgmental drama, based on a true story, suggests that beauty and emotion might result if desperate, damaged men were allowed to find other ways to express themselves, and emphasises the power of art — even bad art — to change lives.
Colman Domingo stars as John ‘Divine G’ Whitfield (the real Divine G makes a cameo appearance), a renaissance man and lifer who has spent his decades inside writing novels and plays when he’s not advocating tirelessly for himself and other inmates. He is a founder member of the RTA, the Rehabilitation Through the Arts prison theatre group at the notorious Sing Sing Correctional Facility. Somewhat against his better judgment he admits the drug dealer Clarence ‘Divine Eye’ Maclin (playing himself with extraordinarily sharp edges), and finds his leadership and usual methods challenged. Instead of the thinky play he has written, the group decide to stage a time-travel comedy called ‘Breakin’ The Mummy’s Code’, which involves gladiators, Hamlet and Freddy Krueger.
This is a film to restore your faith in mankind.
It’s a silly play that the men take seriously, going through acting exercises each day and sharing intimacies as they learn to trust one another and manage their emotions. Most of the cons are played by real-life graduates of the RTA, a close-knit group that on this evidence boasts considerable talent. They don’t use the N-word even casually; they call one another ‘beloved’, and that’s emblematic of their approach. This is a group without the usual tough-guy posturing necessary to survive prison.
But that precious space is fragile. All around loom not only prison walls and the relentless parade of indignities that inmates must endure, but the spectres of violence and injustice that put them here in the first place and that continue to hold them down. G believes passionately in the power of art to change lives; “Trust the process” is his mantra and that of their outside director, Brent Buell (Paul Raci). But everyone has a breaking point, and this safe space always seems to teeter on the brink of oblivion, so there’s tension here as well as emotion.
The result is a drama that occasionally moves a little slowly or seems to go off on a tangent, but despite that it’s remarkably well-directed by Greg Kwedar and gorgeously shot despite the grim surroundings by Pig cinematographer Pat Scola. Domingo gives another beautifully judged performance as the centred, almost serene Divine G, but he’s well-matched to Maclin’s more chaotic energy and the vivid supporting characters of the RTA. You’ll come away with immense affection and admiration for them all; this is a film to restore your faith in mankind, if not the justice system.