Michael Jackson was a comet. An incredible explosion of musical and performing talent, that took the world by storm in a way no one has really ever done (until Taylor Swift). Michael tries to encapsulate everything that Michael Jackson is and was in a comfy exciting 2 hour package. At least that’s what the producers and Jackson estate want the message of this icky propaganda to be.
Michael goes through MJ’s meteoric rise to pop star fame. From humble beginnings in Gary Indiana, Michael was the youngest performer in the Jackson 5 (his other brothers Jermaine, Tito, Marlon, and Jackie were the others), prepared ruthlessly by Michael’s father Joseph (Colman Domingo), adopting the Ricky Bobby if you ain’t first, you’re last mentality. All those belt beatings and child star training got the Jackson 5 and Michael the attention of Motown and producer Suzanne de Passe (Laura Harrier), who honed Michael’s (Jaafar Jackson, Jermaine’s son) skills into the pop star megaforce he would become. Michael eventually branched out from the Jackson 5 into a supernova solo career, giving us decades of incredible songs to sing and dance to, with daddy Joe not too far behind with a hug…and an entrapment tour in tow.
Before we get to the ugly parts of Michael, there’s no denying the electricity. I remember watching the Super Bowl in 1993, and my dad pointing to the guy on stage, saying how amazing he was, as Michael Jackson moonwalked his way into my impressed 8 year old brain. Pop music will never see someone with those type of gifts again: every 15 minutes Antoine Fuqua unleashes banger after banger after banger. There’s no denying it: the movie builds to Thriller’s creation (obviously), a cavalcade of incredible hits and wonderfully, intricately staged music video direction and creation, as well as concert reenactments that do a great job reminding everyone the frenzy Michael Jackson drove everyone who went to his shows into. That alone is Antoine Fuqua’s miracle, that Michael isn’t just pale imitation we can just watch the real clips on YouTube instead; real art and thought went into capturing Michael’s power. Including Jaafar Jackson, the other miracle. Remember how I said there could never be another Michael? Well Jaafar doesn’t have to sing, but he’s got his uncles moves; I couldn’t believe how good Jaafar was at channeling that family talent, moonwalking and leg flailing across the screen in ways that make your body just spontaneously start to move with him. You did right by your family sir, well done.
Too bad your family betrayed you. Michael is the worst case scenario for music biopics. With the Jackson estate necessarily involved to use Michael’s music, that means we’re NEVER getting the Teddy Perkins treatment for MJ. Fine, but that’s only level 1 of the failure. Level 2 goes deeper: the key creators starts manipulating the movie to tell THEIR version of events. That means we get Miles Teller’s producer John Branca, even though his arc could easily be truncated. Janet Jackson was close to Michael growing up, but she clearly didn’t want this made, so she’s COMPLETELY removed from this film, not ideal. Clearly everyone waited for Joseph to pass away, so he can be made into the cartoonishly evil man who becomes solely responsible for what happened to Michael Jackson. So we’re deeper in uncanny valley territory now. But Michael reaches the heinous level 3 of music biopic: deification. It’s ok that the movie stops in 1989, and doesn’t really want to address Neverland, or the more uncomfortable parts of Michael Jackson’s personality. But it’s not ok that the movie decides these traits: the desire to be a child forever, the extremely close relationships Michael has with kids, hell, Michael’s high pitched voice, all are instead actually admirable traits, that we, the stupid ungifted audience, don’t understand, and will never understand. That level of delusion and condescension gets grosser and grosser as the movie goes along, as the movie wills itself to manipulate us to believe Michael Jackson is a god, ignoring the lonely, twisted abused man at the center of the film.
So, yeah, Michael is honestly a moviegoing experience I won’t foreget anytime soon. Bad movies come in many forms, but none quite like this one. Michael Jackson’s music takes people like me to exciting places I never thought I could go, but the movie about him did that too, sullying any goodwill his music brings with a gross, cynical, insulting movie the Jackson estate wants us to shut up and just enjoy. The way you make me feel…is sick.