The music biopic has to be one of the most surefire cinematic moneymakers outside of superheroes, and Michael Jackson was one of the most astronomically successful entertainers in human history. It was inevitable that the Hollywood biopic machine would make its way to the King of Pop. But how does one distill a figure as thorny and complex as Michael Jackson into a glossy, crowd-pleasing blockbuster? The answer, as it turns out, is to take a page from Michael’s playbook: pile on the charisma, refuse to answer questions, and moonwalk past the messy bits.
“Michael” starts at the beginning, with young Michael Jackson (played in childhood by Juliano Krue Valde and as a young adult by Jaafar Jackson, son of Jermaine) practicing his dance moves in a cramped living room in Gary, Indiana, at the behest of his ruthlessly ambitious father Joseph (Colman Domingo, “Sing Sing”). Michael is one fifth of the Jackson 5, alongside his four musical brothers (he seemingly has just one sister, La Toya; Janet, who presumably refused rights to her likeness, is conspicuously absent). The band’s star rises, and Michael’s rises even faster. As his fame eclipses his brothers, Michael yearns to break free and forge his own path as an artist, but Joseph’s manipulation proves difficult to escape.
Taken purely as a vehicle for Michael Jackson’s stardom, “Michael” is an ace work of pop filmmaking. Michael’s music still sounds as fresh as the day it was recorded, especially when blasted through the surround sound of an IMAX theater. Director Antoine Fuqua (“Training Day”) recreates Jackson’s greatest hits, from the epic “Thriller” video to Michael’s famous moonwalk at the Motown 25 special, with cinematic dazzle. Jaafar Jackson fills in admirably for his uncle, uncannily capturing Michael’s mannerisms and ethereal presence. Even if you’ve seen and heard these performances a thousand times before, it’s difficult not to get caught up in the moment; the audience at my preview screening applauded at the end of each song as if they were at a live concert and danced in the aisles during the end credits.
But the problem with authorized biopics, particularly of artists who are no longer with us, is that they stick to the official story. The Michael Jackson we see here is sanitized within an inch of his life, an angelic man-child whose only flaws are his insecurity and naïveté. Jackson’s portrayal as a beatific friend to children in need smacks of cynical image rehabilitation in light of the many allegations of sexual abuse. Rumors have abounded of reshoots, scrapping a framing narrative about Jackson’s legal troubles to abide by a settlement with one of his alleged victims. Instead, “Michael” ends abruptly with a 1988 performance of “Bad,” with a title card somewhat ominously reading, “Michael Jackson’s story continues.” It reads like a sequel tease, but given the estate’s unwillingness to grapple with Jackson’s darker side (and that this film covers almost all of his major musical moments) it’s hard to imagine what such a follow-up could possibly entail.
There’s probably a great movie to be made about Michael Jackson. His story, sitting at the crossroads of art, commerce, power, race, mental illness, and abuse, encapsulates the highs and lows of the American dream as comprehensively as any figure since William Randolph Hearst. But just as Orson Welles had to invent Charles Foster Kane to fully dig into Hearst’s contradictions, so must a definitive Jackson film be made outside the watchful eye of his estate. In its feel-good attempts to gloss over its subject’s peccadilloes, “Michael” goes beyond the usual shortcomings of the biopic formula and becomes something rather insidious. As a popcorn musical, “Michael” is an undeniable Thriller. As a work of biography, however, it’s Bad — and quite possibly Dangerous. — Oscar Goff
Opens April 24 at Kendall Square Cinema, Apple Cinemas Cambridge, and AMC Assembly Row
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