a sequin glove over the pop star鈥檚 tarnished legacy, shrouding Michael Jackson鈥檚 complications with a conventional biopic that, if you cover your ears, sounds great.
is sanctioned by Jackson鈥檚 estate and its producers include the estate’s executors. So it is, by its nature, a narrow, authorized perspective on Jackson. The film ends before the flood of allegations of sexual abuse of children, or Jackson鈥檚 own acknowledgment of sleeping alongside kids. Jackson and his estate have long maintained his innocence. In his only criminal trial, in 2005, Jackson was acquitted.
鈥淢ichael鈥� doesn鈥檛 even subtly nod to these facts. It moonwalks right past them. The result is a kind of fantasy film, one that relives the extraordinary highs of Michael Jackson while turning a blind eye to the lows.
There’s something understandably hard to resist about that. Who wouldn鈥檛 love to forget all the bad that comes with Michael Jackson? 鈥淏illie Jean,鈥� alone, is good enough to give you amnesia. We鈥檙e talking about one of the greatest song-and-dance entertainers of the 20th century. The connection he forged with millions shouldn鈥檛 be taken for granted. And it can feel downright giddy to once again bask in Jackson鈥檚 former glory 鈥� or, at least, an uncanny approximation of it by , his nephew. But that also makes 鈥淢ichael鈥� as much a fairy tale as Peter Pan鈥檚 Neverland.
鈥淢ichael鈥� originally included scenes dealing with the sexual abuse allegations, but those were cut due to stipulations in an earlier settlement. The finished film, scripted by John Logan (鈥淕ladiator,鈥� 鈥淎viator鈥�), is largely structured as a father-son drama. In the film鈥檚 early Gary, Indiana-set scenes, Joe Jackson (a typically compelling Colman Domingo) forcefully drills his children into becoming the Jackson 5 and whips young Michael (an excellent Juliano Krue Valdi) with his belt.
While 鈥淢ichael鈥� spans the Jackson 5 and 鈥淥ff the Wall鈥� and 鈥淭hriller,鈥� its through line is Michael鈥檚 struggle for emancipation from his overbearing father and manager. In that way, it’s quite similar to which likewise turned on the dynamic between Presley and the controlling Colonel Tom Parker.
Similarly, the broad-strokes, play-the-hits biopic approach is very much at work in 鈥淢ichael,鈥� produced by Graham King (鈥淏ohemian Rhapsody鈥�). Fuqua, best known for muscular thrillers like 鈥淭raining Day鈥� and 鈥淭he Equalizer,鈥� is maybe an unlikely pick for the task. But he cleverly stages some scenes, like when young Michael first lays down a track in a recording studio. While his father looms outside and producers tell Michael not to shuffle his feet so much, Fuqua moves inside the booth. We hear nothing but Michael’s voice. The noise stops and there鈥檚 just his pure, not-yet-corrupted vocal power, singing 鈥淲ho鈥檚 Lovin鈥� You.鈥�
What happened to Jackson as he became an adult, many would consider both an astonishing success story and an American tragedy. 鈥淢ichael鈥� doesn鈥檛 try for that balance. It mainly follows the emergence of an icon, albeit a peculiar one who takes shelter in a room full of children鈥檚 toys and whose need to be 鈥減erfect鈥� drives him to cosmetic surgery in his early 20s. These and other developments (like the arrival of Bubbles the chimp) are mostly met with eye rolls by family members: the idiosyncrasies of a man-child genius.
At nearly every turn, you can feel the narrative being twisted, sometimes by those still alive. (Joe Jackson died in 2018, nine years after his son鈥檚 death at 50.) Katherine Jackson (Nia Long), Michael鈥檚 mother, is downright saintly. John Branca (Miles Teller), co-executor of Jackson鈥檚 estate and a producer of the film, is seen as a heroic ally to Michael.
Branca, perhaps, deserves the victory lap. Such a big-screen revival for Jackson was once unthinkable. But 鈥淢ichael鈥� is the latest in a string of successes for the former King of Pop, including Cirque du Soleil shows and 鈥� all despite the evidence presented by the 2019 documentary 鈥淢ichael鈥� isn’t really a rebuttal to that film. It’s pure pop shock-and-awe. And turning up the volume on 鈥淏eat It鈥� will win you some arguments.
What鈥檚 on screen is constantly running, in our minds, alongside what isn鈥檛. Even the glossiest of biopics allow some negative characteristics to show, but Fuqua鈥檚 film sticks almost entirely to Michael, the myth. He visits kids in hospitals, makes Black history on MTV, writes the 鈥淭hriller鈥� album in near solitude. (Kendrick Sampson plays a seldom-seen Quincy Jones.)
As played by Jaafar Jackson, Michael is a wide-eyed innocent who bore the scars of abuse and yet nevertheless maintained a childlike belief in music: king and casualty of pop, at once. If there鈥檚 one thing that needs no embellishment here, it鈥檚 the fervor of audiences for Jackson at his astonishing peak. Fuqua lingers on the fans losing their minds for Michael, but that ardor was real. Jaafar Jackson鈥檚 performance is a remarkable, charming facsimile not just for the dance moves and singing voice but, more crucially, for channeling Jackson鈥檚 sweetness.
鈥淢ichael鈥� concludes on an oddly and 鈥� considering where things would ultimately go for Jackson 鈥� completely false note of triumph. But when the movie sticks to the music, as it often does in copious concert performances, it鈥檚 hard not to be moved. There is an undeniable thrill in being transported back to a more innocent America awakening to the power of pop spectacle, when arenas sang in unison to 鈥淢an in the Mirror鈥� and 鈥淗uman Nature.鈥� The nostalgia of 鈥淢ichael鈥� is for more than Michael Jackson. But blindly believing only in that celebrity, in that fantasy, is repeating a sad history all over again.
鈥淢ichael,鈥� a Lionsgate release in theaters Thursday, is rated PG-13 by the Motion Picture Association for some thematic material, language, and smoking. Running time: 127 minutes. One and a half stars out of four.
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This story has been updated to correct the name of Colonel Tom Parker.
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