Certainly the most daring thing that director Greg Kwedar did in adapting an old magazine article about the titular prison’s Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program, which allows inmates to stage plays, is the way he disregards the crimes of his characters. Though we eventually learn that one of the protagonists, John “Divine G” Whitfield (Colman Domingo), is in for a murder his didn’t commit, it’s because he goes before a cynical parole board that seems to have already decided to refuse his bid. The other protagonist, Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, is in the slammer for dealing drugs and the kinds of mischief that comes with that occupation, but we know that mainly because in an early scene we watch him intimidate a fellow prisoner using methods he obviously cultivated in his business career. Maclin, like all the other RTA inmates depicted except Whitfield, plays himself, and is obviously much older than the figure described in the article, which was published in 2005; and because Kwedar wants us to understand these men’s situations primarily from the inside, he downplays that aspect of their lives that’s usually uppermost in the viewer’s mind when it comes to characters in a prison drama—what are they in for?

This decision is admirable since it helps remove stigma that would likely affect our appreciation of other qualities, but except for the two Divines, Kwedar doesn’t get as deeply into these characters as he should, so all we see is their attempts to make something of whatever thespian skills they’ve acquired. Whitfield, we also learn, is the only inmate with experience in theater and the literary arts in his background, and he relishes the chance to show off those skills every chance he gets in service to the program, which he practically runs. Maclin, an unabashed gangsta who happens to know lines from King Lear, eventually joins the troupe and challenges Whitfield’s prima donna status by auditioning for the lead in the next production, a science fiction musical written by the troupe’s outside director, Brent Buell (Paul Raci), at Maclin’s urging, since Maclin thinks the troupe should do a comedy for a change, thus subtly commandeering the RTA from under Whitfield’s nose. He even lands the part with the Hamlet soliloquy, which Whitfield has been rehearsing for ages in the hope that Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy would cycle in to the troupe’s repertoire (apparently, they just did A Midsummer Night’s Dream). Most of the film focuses on Whitfield swallowing his pride and helping Maclin with his role in Buell’s production and, along the way, coaching Maclin in preparation for his own parole hearing, which Whitfield rightly describes as being a performance. That Whitfield is using his own recollections of failure in this regard to help a fellow incarcerated individual gain his freedom is another admirable aspect that feels slightly off. Both Divines are men whose sentences have much to do with the fact that they are Black, even if one is innocent and the other self-admittedly guilty of the crimes they were sent up for, a salient matter that Kwedar doesn’t seem to want to address.

But the movie’s authenticity of spirit is quite moving and never short-changes the viewer’s intelligence. It’s often difficult to make sense of the two Divines’ motivations, not to mention the shambolic script of the play-within-the-movie. It’s enough that we can guess at what makes these men act, as well as “act,” the way they do through interactions whose main purpose is to expose their vulnerabilities. It’s often said that art will set you free, a platitude that has a starker meaning when applied to people in prison, and if Kwedar’s smart, frustrating movie proves anything, it’s that the impulse to be creative is foundationally human. 

Now playing in Tokyo at Toho Cinemas Chanter Hibiya (050-6868-5001), Shibuya Cine Quinto (03-3477-5905), Toho Cinemas Roppongi Hills (050-6868-5024), Kino Cinema Shinjuku (03-5315-0978), Toho Cinemas Nihonbashi (050-6868-5060).

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photo (c) 2023 Divine Film, LLC