Michael Review: Michael Jackson Biopic Plays The Hits, But Runs On Empty

Michael (PG)

Starring Jaafar Jackson, Nia Long, Colman Domingo, Miles Teller

Directed by Antoine Fuqua

At the time of writing, Michael is getting hammered by critics in all directions, sitting with a miserable 38% on Rotten Tomatoes, and seemingly destined to land a coveted spot in the Razzies sweepstakes. Is it really that bad? Let’s just say it’s low-hanging fruit — it’s hard not to take a swing at it.

Honestly, the Michael Jackson biopic — which covers the first 30 years of his life, from a child singer with the Jackson 5 to a megastar solo artiste — isn’t intensely bad, just, bland, Lifetime biopic bland: a safe, sanitised, and super-glossy retelling that places MJ (Jaafar Jackson, the son of Michael’s brother, Jermaine) on an altar of worship.

There’s even a moment that feels like it’s playing up that hagiographic angle: MJ recovering in a hospital after the Pepsi commercial burn accident, a bandage wrapped around his scalp like a glowing halo. Maybe it’s unintentional. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

Antoine Fuqua (The Equalizer), who cut his teeth on music videos, directs Michael like a two-hour epic music video. (He even gets to remake parts of MJ’s legendary ‘Thriller’, which should be a walk in the park for the guy who remade The Magnificent Seven.) And sure, there’s nothing wrong with that — except you expect a little more meat to go with the beats. The pacing isn’t sluggish; it just feels lightweight, empty even.

That’s because it omits MJ’s darker chapters (it drops bread crumbs, but offers no follow-ups). In that sense, Michael is a twistedly refreshing take on his life (hey, film distributor — use that in your ads!) But who are they kidding?

The film has been called many things: a playlist in search of a movie, a cosplay extravaganza, a piece of p(r)opaganda — take your pick. In essence, it’s a flashy exercise in brand maintenance. A lavish, big-budget informercial (movie-mercial?)approved by the Jackson estate.

So, no guns, no jujitsu, and certainly none of the messy PR entanglements around the child molestation allegations — footage that was reportedly shot but cut at the eleventh hour after legal complications. “Brand” is a word that gets thrown around in the film, mostly from Joe Jackson, MJ’s abusive Svengali-like manager father (Colman Domingo, looking genuinely scary in IMAX).

Strange, too, is the notable absence of siblings Janet, Rebbie, and Randy, which reinforces the notion that this is a curated narrative. Then again, even if they are in the movie, I doubt they have enough screen time to stand out. Here, MJ’s brothers barely have lines — I can’t even tell them apart. Which one is Jackie again? No, that’s Marlon… never mind.

There’s a scene where we see MJ at work, behind him a wall plastered with Post-its of song titles and ideas. That’s kind of what Michael is: a string of Post-its, cherry-picked moments that don’t go deep.

Why did MJ team up with Quincy Jones? Why was his Motown 25 performance of ‘Billie Jean’ such a game-changer? How did Eddie Van Halen end up ripping it up on ‘Beat It’? (As a Van Halen fan, thanks for the shout-out.) And did CBS boss Walter Yetnikoff (Mike Myers, in a bit of stunt casting à la Bohemian Rhapsody) really threaten to boycott MTV — which, at the time, wasn't big on supporting Black artistes — if they didn’t start airing MJ’s videos? Where does truth end and spin begin? Sorry, you’re expected to do your own homework.

Even if the patchiness doesn’t bother you, MJ’s real-life courtroom drama will cloud your enjoyment. He may have been acquitted, but the dust has yet to settle, and even as the film opened, new allegations resurfaced. Good luck dodging that.

Look, I still enjoy MJ’s music. At least the earlier stuff. Thriller, Bad, and Dangerous — before his eccentricities and legal headaches overshadowed his work. That said, I also have this urge to rebel against the spectacle and do what Pulp frontman Jarvis Cocker famously did during MJ’s performance at the 1996 Brit Awards.

Jaafar Jackson, playing his uncle, does an impressive job mimicking the moves and mannerisms. Whether it parlays into a lasting acting career… well, maybe we’ll find out in Michael II and III. “His Story continues,” goes the James Bond-esque title card.

At the end of the day, you come to Michael for the music cranked up to 11. But if you want to skip all the dramatic padding, go with This Is It, the posthumous concert documentary released months after MJ’s passing at 50 in 2009. (2/5 stars) out in cinemas

Tu Yaa Main (NC16)

Starring Adarsh Gourav, Shanaya Kapoor

Directed by Bejoy Nambiar

Netflix dropped this Hindi survival thriller Tu Yaa Main around the same time as the trashy shark attack-o-rama Thrash (it’s no Under Paris), so it got buried in the content deluge. A remake of the 2018 Thai feature The Pool (which I didn’t see), it’s about a rapper (The White Tiger’s Adarsh Gourav) and an influencer (Shanaya Kapoor, daughter of Bollywood legend Sanjay Kapoor) trapped in an abandoned pool… with a crocodile! How the eff did they get there? Here’s the thing: the movie is nearly two-and-a-half hours long! To get there, you must put up with how their romance starts and evolves — courtship, conflict, reconciliation. It’s an ass-numbingly long build-up, complete with song-and-dance numbers, naturally. Remove that part (about 65 minutes) and — bingo!  — you have a decent creature feature; think Alexander Aja’s Crawl, but with characters you root for the crocodile to eat. (By the way, the original clocks in at 90 minutes.) Jack Neo once said he’s open to doing a monster movie. Maybe after Ah Boys to Firemen, give this a go. Given his tendency to overrun, the first hour will be reserved for product placement (Lacoste, Crocs….) Can you see it? (2.5/5 stars) on Netflix