Michael Review - A Transcendent Performance Weighed Down by Biopic Clichés

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"A star can never die. It just turns into a smile and melts back into the cosmic music, the dance of life." - Michael Jackson

The Messiah and the Man: A Masterclass in Narrative Sleight of Hand

Genre conventions are inevitable in certain stories. Sports films with the mandatory training montages, the “gearing up” sequence when an ordinary citizen becomes a well-equipped warrior. The plan walkthrough in heist thrillers when the leader lays out the plan showing us how it will look should everything go perfectly. Of course, it never does go exactly as planned. Genre convention is important but, like most things in life, balance is key.

Even the best movies feature genre hallmarks like Rocky with the training montage, Ocean’s 11 with the plan walkthrough, and Commando with the ultimate “gearing up” sequence. Some examples of abusing the genre tropes are the fake-out jump scare in horror, or the “sky beam” finale in superhero movies. The family monologues in the Fast & Furious movies alone have become their own repetitive nonsense. Dropping the keys or the engine failing to start when the killer is in pursuit—you get the point. It’s all in the execution. There’s a razor-thin margin between a genre hallmark that builds tension and a tired trope that kills it.

Unfortunately, Michael is riddled with predictable biopic tropes, appearing wholly uninterested in the gritty details of his greatest controversies. I’ve heard the term “puff piece” being thrown around a lot and I can’t say I’m surprised by any of it. The fact that they moonwalk past his most infamous moments and the complete sanitizing of his life’s story is telling, and the critics are totally incensed by all of it. I expected every bit of it. The PG-13 rating acts as a formal gatekeeper, signaling that the film will be a sanitized summary rather than a raw, uncensored dissection of his life’s true peaks and valleys. The most unfortunate aspect is how the film’s genuine successes are overshadowed by its fundamental failures; there is a plethora of missed opportunities and sanitized details to pick apart.

The film's greatest success is without question Jaafar Jackson as the titular superstar—he is exceptional. Although there is a heavy heaping of nepotism, sometimes it’s undeniable that it just works. In this case, I’m not sure anyone could have captured the physicality of the "Moonwalker" better than his own kin. But it also highlights a blatant effort at deification; the gatekeepers have traded an honest portrait for a Messiah-like image, protecting the legacy at the expense of the truth.

Beyond the transcendence of Jaafar Jackson is the total embodiment of Joe Jackson by the always phenomenal Colman Domingo. He is a visceral reminder of the man we remember Joe to be; Domingo leans into the infamous accounts of his abusive nature, making it impossible not to loathe the character. Domingo is an actor at the height of his powers, and as Joe, he provides a menacing anchor to the film. He doesn't shy away from the brutality, ensuring that while the film deifies the son, it rightly vilifies the father.

This is where the narrative retreats into the predictable; it makes haste by deploying just about every musical biopic cliché in the Hollywood arsenal. It is a frustrating turn, especially considering the man behind the camera. Antoine Fuqua is a director I have long admired for his ability to craft gritty, visceral, and uncompromising cinema—films like Training Day proved he has the teeth for the 'ugly side' of humanity. To see a filmmaker of his caliber helm a project this sanitized feels beneath his talents; it is as if his signature edge was dulled to satisfy the requirements of a family-sanctioned script.

In this version of events, Michael is the perennial victim, forever the hero of his own story. The script lacks the disinterested perspective necessary to see him as a complex man rather than a flawless martyr. Ultimately, it feels like a strategic sleight of hand; by leaning into the visceral truth of Joe Jackson’s abuse, the estate attempts to buy the audience's trust, hoping that by vilifying the father, they can successfully fool everyone into accepting the deification of the son.

There is an attempt here to use the visceral brutality of Joe Jackson as a narrative anchor, convincing us that grounding the father in such ugly reality somehow earns the right to deify the son. It is a calculated trade-off: the patriarch's flaws are offered up as a sacrifice, hoping that by acknowledging one truth, the film's messiah-like elevation of Michael will feel acceptable. This specific brand of narrative manipulation is reminiscent of Bohemian Rhapsody, which similarly convoluted its timeline and polished its subject to avoid the darker complexities of being human. In both cases, the messiness of an unfathomably famous life is traded for a sanitized, estate-approved arc.

The production essentially treats history as a rough draft, altering the "uglier side" of reality to ensure the legend remains untarnished. We’re being asked to accept this newly molded story as truth, and it can feel a bit insulting at times. Perhaps most frustrating of all is the sheer fame of Michael Jackson would suggest that anyone interested in seeing his life story on screen would be well aware of the controversies. To avoid them altogether feels disingenuous. In many ways, the film’s silence feels like a continuation of the original effort to ignore the severity of these moments; it mirrors the same defensive posture taken when the events actually occurred, prioritizing the protection of the brand over a reckoning with the man.

If you’re a fan of the music, you already understand the connective tissue of Michael’s life. You know the milestones and the tragedies; you don't need a film to bridge the gaps with biopic tropes when the reality is already etched into our collective memory. You will love the music, you will adore Jaafar Jackson’s monumental performance, and if you appreciate a good villain, look no further than Colman Domingo. There is a lot to admire here, but a sinking ship will find the bottom regardless of how slowly the water pulls it beneath the surface.

Rated PG-13 For: some thematic material, language, and smoking

Runtime: 127 minutes

After Credits Scene: No

Genre: Drama, Biography

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

Directed By: Antoine Fuqua

Out of 10

Story: 6/ Acting: 9/ Directing: 8/ Visuals: 8

OVERALL: 5.5/10

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Check out the trailer below: