Movie Reviews
Film Review: Sing Sing – SLUG Magazine
Film
Sing Sing
Director: Greg Kwedar
Black Bear Pictures, Marfa Peach Company and Edith Productions
In Theaters 08.16
There are many reasons why film and the performing arts have been a driving force in my life, one being that art has the power to take us anywhere. In the case of Sing Sing, the audience is transported inside a maximum security prison in New York, while the film’s characters use the stage to transport themselves out.
Inspired by the true story of the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program at the Sing Sing Correctional Facility, the film follows a group of inmates who are use theatre as a way to focus their energy and minds. A wrongfully convicted prisoner, Divine G (Colman Domingo, If Beale Street Could Talk, Rustin), uses his considerable skills as an actor and writer to create a safe space where the inmates can find a shared purpose, working alongside Brent Buell (Paul Raci, Sound of Metal), a playwright, director and activist who volunteers at the prison. As the the RTA closes a successful Shakespearean production, they hold a meeting to discuss their next production. As a gruff new inmate, Clarence Maclin (who plays himself) joins the group, he suggests shaking things up with a comedy, and soon, the group is developing an original work entitled called Breakin’ The Mummy’s Code. The play will use the premise of time travel to bring cowboys, ancient Egyptians, Robin Hood, Freddy Kruegerand Hamlet together all in one unforgettable performance—if they can all get along and work together. While Maclin’s hardened demeanor and tendency to pick fights with others creates obstacles, both Brent and Divine G see potential for him to be an asset to the program as the program acts as an asset to him. Throughout the collaborative process, the inmates confront the decisions that led them to prison, and through the RTA, they challenge traditional notions of masculinity, reignite their imaginations and rediscover their capacity for joy and resilience.
Sing Sing is a profound and beautiful film about creating the best of times in the worst of times and places, and director Greg Kweder (Transpecos) invites the audience to share in each cathartic moment with with both the cast of Sing Sing and the cast of Breakin’ The Mummy’s Code—which are made up in large part of the same people, as former inmates and members of the RTA play themselves in the film. While it has some heavy moments and never lets us forget where these men are, Sing Sing is a rare prison film that is more interested in finding joy and beauty than in hammering home the brutal reality of life in the worst place on earth. Kweder and his screenwriters assumed that their audience has a certain cineliteracy, and trusts that we remember the nightmarish moments of The Shawshank Redemption and don’t need to see them again for context. The low-key visual style affords the audiences a taste of being right there in thick of things while affording us the comfort of being able to step back and merely observe if we so choose, though the shared energy, determination and humor of this troupe of committed performers will make you feel swept up in the desire to be a part of something grand and meaningful more often than not. It most certainly doesn’t make you think “I wish I was in prison” for a moment, though it’s hard to watch the film and not think of yourself in these men’s shoes, and regardless of how they got there, there’s an undeniable feeling of love and respect for their unbreakable spirits and the ways in which they support each other.
Domingo is mesmerizing a Divine G, following up his Oscar nominated performance in Rustin with an electrifying portrayal of a man desperately trying to hold on to the things that make him human, and dedicating himself to keeping other from falling even as he walks the edge. Raci is the kind of actor who can communicate volumes with minimal words and even limited dialogue, and his presence as compassionate as it is commanding. Maclin is clearly the breakthrough discovery here, as an actor with no previous experience on camera who brings a smoldering intensity that brings Denzel Washington to mind, and while he’s likely to be relegated mostly to supporting roles on screen, he shows us inSing Sing that he will forever tower as a leading man in life. Sean San Jose (Another Barrio) as Mike Mike, Divine G’s roommate, and Sean Dino Johnson, another RTA member playing himself, provide transcendent moments of humanity and dignity that had me leaving the screening wanting to be a better person and to do more with my life.
After a few weeks of mediocrity and outright misfires, Sing Sing is a much needed injection of art and soul into the bloodstream of cinema, mixing heavy drama with humor and humanity. It’s a heartfelt plea for a society driven by empathy instead of apathy, yet it never surrenders to the urge to be manipulative or didactic. By simply holding the mirror up to nature, Sing Sing makes a powerful case for the importance of creativity and storytelling in all of our lives, and it’s a rejuvenating, hopeful and inspiring work that made me feel grateful to be alive. –Patrick Gibbs
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Movie Reviews
Rex Reed’s 2024 Movie Review Roundup: A Masterclass in Blistering Honesty
Rex Reed’s scalpel was particularly sharp in 2024, slicing through 43 films with the kind of ruthless precision only he can wield. This was the year he likened Mean Girls to “cinematic Covid,” torched Longlegs as a “dumpster fire,” and suggested that Cash Out had John Travolta so lost, “somebody stage an intervention.” For those seeking unfiltered truths about Hollywood’s latest offerings, Reed delivered—though not without a handful of pleasant surprises.
His ratings reveal a critic tough to impress: 28 percent of films earned 1 star, while 5 percent received the graveyard of zero stars. Horror films bore the brunt of his wrath—Longlegs and Heretic were sacrificed at the altar of his biting prose. Yet, amid the wreckage, 5 percent clawed their way to 4 stars, with dramas like One Life and Cabrini standing out for their emotional gravitas. Biopics, historical narratives and character studies fared best under his gaze, suggesting Reed still has a soft spot for films anchored in strong performances and rich storytelling.
One of the more controversial reviews? Reed’s glowing praise for Coup de Chance, which he called “Woody Allen’s best film in years.” In an industry where few dare applaud Allen publicly, Reed’s unapologetic endorsement (“unfairly derailed by obvious, headline-demanding personal problems”) was as bold as ever. Interestingly, the most-read review wasn’t the most positive—The Last Showgirl dazzled readers, perhaps more for the spectacle of Pamela Anderson’s Vegas reinvention than the film’s plot. It seems Reed’s audience enjoys his kinder takes, but they revel in his cinematic eviscerations just as much. When Reed loves a film, he ensures you know it—just as he ensures the worst offenders are left gasping for air.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: A Locksmith lives to Regret Taking that One “Night Call”
I’m of two minds about that subgenre we call the hero/heroine with “particular skills” thriller.
The parade of Liam Neeson/Jason Statham/John Cena et al action pictures where this mobster, that rogue government or rogue government agency or creepy neighbor crosses this or that mild-mannered man or woman who turns out to be ex-CIA, a retired Marine, a former assassin or Navy SEAL has worn out its welcome.
Somebody effs around, somebody finds out they’ve “Taken” the wrong relative, crossed the wrong professional mayhem-maker. Yawn.
It’s always more interesting when somebody a lot more ordinary is tested by an extraordinary situation, and by people ostensibly a lot more capable of what Mr. or Ms. In Over Their Heads is attempting. “Three Days of the Condor” is the template for this sort of film. A more recent example is the snowplow operator tracking down and avenging himself on his son’s mob killers — “In Order of Disappearance.”
Throwing somebody with one “particular skill” that doesn’t include violence, criminal or espionage subterfuge or the like? As an exercise in screenwriting problem-solving that’s almost always a fun film to watch. That’s why I have high hopes for Rami Malek’s upcoming spring fling, “The Amateur.”
Let’s hope that’s as good as the lurid, violent and tight-as-a-drum Belgian thriller, “Night Call.” A young man (Jonathan Feltre) is tricked, trapped and life-or-death tested by one long night at work.
Mady is a student, we gather, and a native-born Belgian with a thing for Petula Clark ’60s pop — in French. His night gig is as a locksmith. On this one night, that job will get him into trouble despite his best efforts to avoid it. And his “particular skills” and the tools of his trade will come in handy just enough to make you mutter, “clever, clever boy” at the screen and what writer-diector Michiel Blanchart has cooked-up for his feature filmmaking debut.
Mady’s the guy you summon when you’ve locked yourself out of your car, business or flat in the wee hours. He’s professional, courteous and honest. No, the quoted price — 250 Euros — is all you owe.
He’s also careful. The young woman named Claire (Natacha Krief) summons him to a Brussels flat she’s locked out of. She doesn’t have the €250. It’s in her purse, in her flat. With her keys. No, that’s where her ID is, too. As she’s flirted, just a bit, and the streets all around them are consumed by Black Lives Matter protests because Black people die at the hands of white cops in Belgium, too, he takes her word for it.
Mady might be the last to figure out that her last lie, about “taking out the trash” (in French with English subtitles) and hitting the ATM downstairs, is her get-away. When she rings him up and warns him to “Get OUT of there” (in French with subtitles) he’s still slow on the uptake.
That’s when the apartment’s real resident, a musclehead with a punching bag and lots of Nazi paraphrenalia on the walls, shows up and tries to beat Mady to death. He fails.
But can a young Black man call the possibly racist cops about what’s happened and have them believe him? Maybe not. It’s when he’s trying to “clean” the scene of the “crime” that he’s nabbed, and his night of hell escalates into torture, threats and attempts to escape from the mobster (Romain Duris at his most sadistic) in pursuit of stolen loot and the “real” thief, the elusive but somehow conscience-stricken “Claire.”
As Hitchcock always said, “Good villains make good thrillers.” Duris, recently seen in the French “The Three Musketeers” and “The Animal Kingdom,” famous for “The Spanish Apartment” and “Chinese Puzzle,”, is the classic thriller “reasonable man” heavy.
“Either you become a friend, or a problem,” his Yannick purrs, in between pulling the garbage bag off the suffocating kids’ head, only to wrap Mady’s face in duct tape, a more creative bit of asphyxiation.
The spice that Blanchart seasons his thriller with is the backdrop — street protests, with Black protesters furious that Mady isn’t joining them and riot police pummeling and arresting every Black face in sight. That’s jarringly contrasted by the oasis-of-calm subway and unconcerned discos where Mady chases clues and Claire.
A getaway on a stolen bicycle, dashing through streets and down into a subway station, suspense via frantic escapes, frantic bits of outwitting or outfighting crooks and cops, a decent confrontation with the not-cute-enough-to-excuse-all-this Claire and a satisfying “ticking clock” finale?
That’s what makes a good thriller. And if those “particular skills” show up here and there, at least we know Mady’s learned something on a job that if he lives to finish school, won’t be his career.
Rating: unrated, graphic violence, sex scenes in a brothel
Cast: Jonathan Feltre, Natacha Krief, Jonas Bloquet, Thomas Mustin and Romain Duris.
Credits: Scripted and directed by Michiel Blanchart. A Magnet release.
Running time: 1:37
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