Sing Sing is built to tell you exactly how to feel in the least challenging way possible. There’s no real subtext, as you are spoon fed thematic ideas. Coleman Domingo gets lost in the sauce and gives a really hammy performance that doesn’t end up evoking any feeling because it’s too manicured. His character is the least interesting within the film, and with a camera so intent on propping him up, you lose the heart of the film, Clarence Maclin.…

Brought me to tears in its closing moments. 1.48:1 was literally invented to show Benicio del Toro and Mia Threapelton side by side.

Any accusations of this being a slight and unambitious Wes Anderson film feels immediately obtuse the second we hear Desplat’s Airplane Crash #1 begin to play. It’s mean and more in line with something you’d expect out of a Ludwig or Zimmer score for Nolan. Desplat hasn’t gone to such emotional pains since his harrowing and majestic…