Wednesday night, Sierra and I watched the Michael Jackson biopic, Michael. I have to admit I had some heavy reservations going in. Jaafar Jackson—Michael’s nephew—stars in the title role, but with the project authorized directly by the Michael Jackson estate, I worried we were in for a heavily sanitized version of his life: no abusive father, no legal controversies, no weirdness.
Interestingly, there is zero reference to Diana Ross and her historical surrogate-agent role in launching the Jackson 5. While I don’t know the exact current state of Ross’s relationship with the estate, her total absence in the film certainly didn’t go unnoticed. Ultimately, the movie more or less culminates with the family’s 1984 Victory Tour.
Visually, the film is very impressive, and credit goes to Antoine Fuqua’s direction for that. Jaafar’s physical resemblance to his uncle is almost eerie at times—which makes sense given they are blood relatives. But realistically, much of his performance often borders on a masquerade. Part of the problem is that I honestly don’t know if anyone ever truly knew Michael Jackson as a normal human being. His family knew him the way families think they know their members, but without the full picture. A true deep dive requires multiple takes, witnesses, and testimonies, whereas an estate-approved project is bound to play it safe.
Perhaps because I grew up in the 1980s and remember seeing a lot of this unfold live on television, the film frequently felt less like an actual narrative drama and more like a curated museum walk. In great biopics, you see a character struggle, find inspiration, and experience the messy genesis of their art—seeing a song come to life. Here, aside from a brief glimpse into the recording of “Beat It,” we rarely get that. Instead, it plays out like a high-end collection of video highlights. For a child of the 80s, seeing a recreation of the filming of the “Thriller” video was surreal. As a kid, I watched that video countless times and wore out the “making of” special, so watching it recreated on screen was a bizarre case of life imitating art.
Realistically, trying to cram Jackson’s massive career into a single movie doesn’t work. If you were mapping this out properly, it should have been a trilogy: Part 1 covering his early life up to the release of Off the Wall; Part 2 tackling the Thriller and Bad peak; and Part 3 dealing with everything post-Bad. Of course, given that the estate is involved, they would never touch the heavier controversies, leaving us with a truncated story that feels more like a bloated first act.
We’re repeatedly told that Michael was different, that he wasn’t like other kids, but the movie still lacks that internal drive or the manic, obsessive motivation that possesses ultra-successful people. If you’re old enough to remember the 1980s, you know Michael Jackson wasn’t just a pop star; he was the most transcendent entertainer of the era—perhaps of all time. Even if you weren’t a fan, you heard his music, saw his face, and simply couldn’t escape him in the burgeoning media landscape of the time.
I recommend Michael to die-hard fans of the King of Pop, but also to anyone with a soft spot for 1980s nostalgia. I don’t necessarily consider myself a massive Michael Jackson fan, and while I didn’t hate the movie, I definitely found myself feeling like it was much more sizzle and less steak.
Michael is currently available for digital rental
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