Hagiography 101
If you’re looking for a deep dive into the psychology of a troubled artistic genius, why you at a biopic?
Michael
Director: Antoine Fuqua • Writer: John Logan
Starring: Jaafar Jackson, Colman Domingo, Nia Long, Juliano Krue Valdi, Miles Teller
USA • 2hrs 7mins
Opens Hong Kong April 22 • IIA
Grade: C
Where the hell do you start with Michael?
One thing’s for certain: Its efficacy as a musical biopic is not in question. It’s a note for note copy of the last one of these to really land with audiences quality be damned, Bohemian Rhapsody, and it follows the rules of the game to the letter. Mostly fucked up childhood, discovery of massive talent, slow crawl to recognition, record deal, lightspeed rise to fame, peak, illness/addiction/personal demon that lays the superstar low, and finally re-emergence as a better person. The End. Except Michael, for various legal and licensing reasons I think we all know about, stops at “peak”, at 1987’s Bad and the world tour that followed; it’s actually a show at Wembley, where Rhapsody finished. We can assume that the illness/addiction/personal demon demons will be tackled in the second film, which continues Jackson’s story.
Hahahahahaha. Are you kidding right now? Michael’s level of sanitisation and King of Pop myth-affirmation makes Rhapsody look like a hard-hitting Alex Gibney documentary. Produced by the lawyer and semi-manager that helped Jackson get away from his controlling father Joe, John Branca, alongside all the Jackson siblings except Randy, Janet and Rebie, and Michael’s son, Prince, there’s no way Michael is interested in an honest look at Jackson’s life, his creative process, the forces that shaped him and, least of all, the allegations of child abuse that tarnish his legacy for some. Does Jackson deserve a biopic? Hell, yeah. He’s one of the GOAT, and anyone unmoved by “Beat It”, “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough” or – hands down the best track on Thriller – “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” is, frankly, dead. But Jackson’s life and story run smack into the same problem Freddy Mercury did, that Rocket Man, Ray, Walk the Line and Respect did. No one wants to shit on a legend, officially sanctioned film or not. It is the biopic’s fundamental flaw.
Always an angel
For all Michael’s issues, it should be stated that Jaafar Jackson (Jermaine’s son and Michael’s nephew), and Colman Domingo as abusive and self-serving Jackson family patriarch Joe Jackson are not the problem. Jaafar is the spitting performance image of Michael, and Domingo can make the T&C on your phone update riveting. Neither is director Antoine Fuqua, who brings all his Training Day, Olympus Has Fallen, The Equalizer swagger to bear on a skin-deep script by John Logan (Gladiator, Skyfall) that is compelled to dance around the more unsavoury aspects of Jackson’s life. But legal shenanigans aside, Michael only ever hints at the impact larger forces that may have had on 10-year-old Michael in Indiana (Juliano Krue Valdi as a kid), like Joe commenting on his “big” nose, the utter lack of any kind of childhood, his isolation, his emerging vitiligo, and MTV’s racial divide. As a start. Also: the erasure of The Wiz is a crime. There’s no time for any of that (what’s this rivalry with Prince?) because Michael expends all its energy on telling us how special he is, what a generational talent, that there’s no one else like him, how selfless, generous, etc and so on.
It’s a shame too, because despite the general airlessness and soulessness of the film, it sparks to life in brief moments, like when Michael meets Motown boss Berry Gordy (Larenz Tate) at 10, when Branca (Miles Teller) oversteps his position at a fancy law firm and wins Jackson’s trust (talk about Mary Sue-ing it), every time Michael chills at home with his mom Katherine (Nia Long) and, finally, when Thriller starts to come together. But these are just moments in between montages (so many montages) that dress up Wiki sections to look like a movie. No one is going to learn anything about the man from Michael.
Will Michael do Bohemian Rhapsody levels of business? It’s entirely possible. It’s hard to describe the massivity of his stardom to post-MTV audiences – MTV which doesn’t exist without Jackson regardless of the fact they wouldn’t play his groundbreaking videos – but his fans are legion and most are still alive. Will it lead to an uptick on Spotify searches, which in turn will accomplish some of the estate’s mission to stay relevant and whitewash (sorry) Jackson’s legacy? Probably. I know I fired up the MJ playlist on my way home. Does it make you a bad person to enjoy music by an accused, never convicted, diddler? That’s the larger question films like Michael pose in these days of the art versus artist. And as a product of the MTV age, it makes sense that when Michael is montaging, it’s unfurling like an MV, with DOP Dion Beebe (Collateral, Edge of Tomorrow, the upcoming Heat 2) flirting with kinetic MTV language while never letting Jackson’s halo dim.