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Sing Sing Doesn’t Need a Movie Star’s Touch
The prison theater drama can’t square its naturalistic urges with its need to be an awardsy acting vehicle.
The bulk of the movie spans the production of Breakin’ The Mummy’s Code, a patchwork time-travel comedy that Brent whips up over a weekend to provide a range of parts, from Egyptian princes to cowboys to Hamlet, for the whole ensemble. When he stands at the sidelines, glowering at the other men as they gladly get loose during warm-up exercises, you can understand why they’re all wary of his disrupting their hard-won dynamic — skeptical that this guy who arrives with a knife in his waistband is not really there to be part of the group, but to ruin it. And when G takes him aside to a barred window overlooking the Hudson early on in rehearsals to dispense some unasked-for advice, the interaction is staged like someone trying to handle an abused rescue dog just as likely to lash out with fangs bared as to accept contact.
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