As Michael started, I found myself guessing I knew no more than approximately 20% about the King of Pop.
By the end, I would bump that up to roughly 25-30%.
Of course, the film does not cover the entirety of his life (it goes up to his “Bad” era in the late 1980s), but the film does seem interested at all in getting too deep into the psyche of one of the greatest entertainers the world has ever known. We knew young Michael (props to new comer Juliano Krue Valdi) started off with his brothers in the Jackson 5, under the strict thumb of their father Joe (Colman Domingo) in Gary, Indiana (not sure if they really grew up on Jackson Street as the film shows us). While his siblings are talented, it is obvious that Michael is budding into something that will create a new tier of music.
While there is no doubt Jackson was blessed with musical and physical abilities, there is no inclination as to how he refined them, outside of brief moments of watching Charlie Chaplin and Singin’ in the Rain (no mention of being taught by the Nicholas brothers). As a grown-up (portrayed by his real-life nephew, Jafar Jackson), it is evident the film is focusing mainly on Michael trying to be brave enough to stand up to his domineering dad.
Even if my aforementioned prior knowledge was less than 20%, I would still know this film would have to go big with the musical numbers, which veteran director Antoin Fuqua obliges. This segues into the Jafar Jackson performance. While the rest of the performances of the cast are passable, Jackson does bring it up a notch, doing so smoothly a job that it is almost, well, criminal (had to say it).
Of course, he looks a lot like his uncle (as does Domingo and Nia Long as his parents: the make-up is well done), but he does a rather fine job of nailing down the voice and facial expressions. While he does not do his own singing (which would be foolish for anyone to try to do), he is nearly impeccable in his dance moves. Anyone who can pull off a moonwalk is someone I applaud.
Sadly, there is no more character depth, and there are times when it feels like the performance is a level or two above an SNL caricature. Consider a scene late in the picture between Michael and his father. The latter has just made a deal with Don King (Deon Cole) to tour the Jackson family, despite Michael having fired his father as his manager (well, it was actually John Branca, portrayed by Miles Teller, who did the firing for him). After Joe leaves his son’s room, we see Michael’s face, revealing only a hint of sadness. There are three reasons I can think of as to why there is no more depth shown here: Jafar Jackson is not equipped yet to show this kind of emotion as an actor (to be fair, it is his first time on screen), the real Michael did not show emotion that much, or the filmmakers were not interested in this approach in the first place.
Parents, the film does avoid the allegations that were made against Jackson. Do with that what you will. The PG-13 rating of the film is mainly for some swearing and dramatic moments (mainly involving Joe disciplining his kids with a belt).
One thing I did not see coming was the end title card of “His Story Continues”. The last two decades of his life would indeed make a movie (and give us “Will you be there” from the Free Willy Soundtrack, my personal favorite song of his), but it would be nice if the filmmakers (including Bohemian Rhapsody producer Graham King) tried to get rid of the absurd amount of glossiness. It’s like that photo of one foot in the ballet shoe, the other missing one, showing the blisters and blood. We never see the real physical struggle Jackson must have had in his dancing aside from sweat (for the record, I’m pretty sure I saw him sweating in one shot, then not sweating in the next).
I left thinking that, if my life were as glossy as Michael Jackson’s, I’d be wearing sunglasses a lot more, too.
Overall:
Nothing else to say 