Despite the foreboding walls of Sing Sing Correctional Facility, an infamous maximum-security prison in New York, sunlight consistently finds a way through the barred windows, no matter the time of day. At least, this is the reality portrayed in Greg Kwedar’s “Sing Sing,” a film so full of warmth that you’d be forgiven for forgetting it’s set entirely in prison.

The new film from A24 has been highly discussed in the film community since its debut at the Toronto International Film Festival a year ago. It’s been slowly rolled out to more and more theaters over the past few months,garnering more Oscar buzz than any other film this year so far.

While we are still half a year away from Hollywood’s most prestigious awards show, I am excited to say “Sing Sing” is the strongest film I’ve seen all year. Despite coming from a relatively green director named Greg Kwedar and not receiving a massive release, the film is incredibly confident in every storytelling and craft choice.

Chief among those choices was to film the interior of Sing Sing with glowing light. When I typically think of prison films, I think of an intensely dreary color palette and an assaulting sense of isolation throughout the plot. But “Sing Sing” isn’t a prison movie — it’s a character drama set in a maximum-security prison.

This is not to undersell the importance of the setting in the film, though. It’s hard to walk away from the film without reevaluating views on the prison system and rehabilitation.

Based on a true story, the film follows Divine G — played by Colman Domingo — a prisoner involved in a theatre program as he tries to aid in the rehabilitation of another prisoner, Clarence Maclin, who plays himself. We follow Divine G and his cohort of performing prisoners for six months.

Considering how large the cast is, I was surprised I made a genuine connection with every character. The film is deeply empathetic in this way, spending much of its runtime on how characters feel rather than dwelling on their convictions.

The film follows the troupe as it arranges a ridiculous comedy play incorporating everything the characters like; Hamlet passages, time travel, Roman Colosseum fights, and ancient Egyptian politics make up a hilarious rehearsal process.

Along the way, the film guides audiences through the process of Divine G’s parole hearing, a routine we learn he has been trapped in for decades. This scene stands out as Domingo’s Oscars audition, a scene so devastating and frustrating it has stuck with me for over a week.

Despite being top-billed on the poster and receiving the most screen time, Domingo’s character isn’t the heart of the film. Rather, Maclin emanates humanity in his role as the skeptic to the rest of the troupe’s flamboyant stage shenanigans, acting as the true heart of the film. “Sing Sing” unpacks layers of masculinity as the hyper-macho Maclin goes from shaking down new inmates in the yard to demolishing Shakespearean drama.

Maclin’s evolution is one of the most endearing and triumphant character arcs I’ve seen in a film all year. It wouldn’t be as impactful without the remarkable work done by Domingo, as the relationship between the level-headed Divine G and standoffish Maclin is the foundation upon which the film’s themes are built.

Without giving away the transcendent final minutes of the film, the themes of rehabilitation and positive masculinity collide and deliver an incredibly powerful final shot. The image will remain ingrained in my mind for a long time, but the credits are equally as striking.

Rather than showing us the fictionalized version of the play the real brotherhood of inmates put on, the credits collect real-world recordings of the productions. Many of the performing prisoners play themselves in the film, like Maclin, but it’s indescribably heartwarming to see the true footage.

The choice to have many of the prisoners play themselves goes one step further in making the story feel more authentic and personal. There is a sense throughout the entire film that everyone involved in the production is emotionally invested in the story they are trying to tell.

This brings me back to the rays of golden sunlight streaming into every cell of the prison. While the story is one of both triumph and tragedy, the deep empathy infused in every grain of film onscreen is what audiences will leave with.

While audiences may also discover a newfound disappointment in the U.S. prison system after watching “Sing Sing,” they will ultimately have an inspired appreciation for the unifying power of art.