MJ's Last Curtain Call

Admittedly, I went in to Michael Jackson’s This Is It musical documentary with more than an open mind. I went in as someone who really loved his music, when he was alive. But what I came out of it with was so much more. This is what genius looks like. This is what it means to be a perfectionist for the sake of your fans. This is what people meant when they said “For your entertainment”. This is what comes to life when music, magic and movement merge. This is it!

What I’m going to try to do is come as close to explaining it in words as I experienced it on film. I’m writing without giving anything away for anyone who hasn’t, but wants to see it. What I won’t do is revisit any of the ‘ugly’ that came into MJ’s career. I’ll leave that for the critics. What I hope to do is be as strict with myself on paper as MJ was with himself on stage. Okay, maybe not as strict. He was in a class by himself.

When the film opens, you get to see some of the fortunate and talented dancers, who were hand-picked by MJ, in the pre-audition moments of their lives. It is an emotion-filled, raw display of hope seeking glory. Young, unbelievably skilled dancers who are visibly humbled and affected by, not merely the man himself, but the genius of the man who was Michael Jackson. They’ve not yet met Michael, but it is as if he’s been with them and within all of their lives.

What is amazing about all of the footage and interviews filmed for This Is It is that all were done before MJ died. So what you’re getting is the real and heartfelt admiration of all of the people – dancers, musicians, cinematographers, special effects folks and pyro-technicians – who worked on what became MJ’s last masterpiece in the making. What you’re not getting is the predictable words of praise which follow the death of an icon. What you’re not hearing is the customary adoration that expectantly arises for someone this huge who is suddenly gone from the earth.

The rehearsals for what arguably would have been Michael Jackson’s most spectacular stage production are the key and core of this film. Here, for the world to see was MJ’s musical prowess and his over-the-top presence. If you think of rehearsals, certainly you can’t think that from these could emerge a two-hour film that would hold anyone’s interest for long. What you imagine is a series of repetitive, rehashed and repeated movements and scores. Not so with the man called the King of Pop.

You have to be without a pulse to be able to sit through This Is It bored. There is just one reason for its mass appeal. Simply stated, it is Michael Jackson’s presence. For every minute that he dominates the screen, all eyes are on him. You can’t really help it, it just is. All who surround him are just extensions of MJ in the form of dancers and singers, guitarists, drummers and directors. They are all uniquely skilled, but they’re just not him. And so you have to wonder, why would someone with his level of God-given talent be so careless with it and lose it in such a stupid and senseless manner? I remain slightly pissed off at him for it.

One of my all-time favorite things to watch is the choreographed group dance, for which Michael is certainly the King. There is something so mesmerizing about a sea of similarly skilled and shaped bodies coming together in unison that bring a song to life for me. It is why movie musicals reign high on my list of much-beloved works. This Is It certainly has all of the elements and is well on its way of showing high on my list of favorites.

As we watched the manner in which MJ conducted, oversaw, reigned over and participated on this path to his concerts is truly magic. It was watching someone take already flawless productions such as Thriller, Smooth Criminal, Black and White and Beat It and injecting new life, re-inventing them to proportions even more spectacular than ever before. How does anyone even imagine the concepts?

Throughout moments in which the often-guarded superstar was unguarded, it was at times tender to watch. As always soft-spoken and shy, he conducted this series of rehearsals never once raising his voice to anyone, but all at once getting his points and visions across to bring to the stage what he envisioned to be a mind-blowing spectacle. And because he treated everyone with such graceful respect and love, all who surrounded the unknowingly final moments of his life wanted to be the best for him.

What I learned about the artist I grew up with was that even as he approached what some consider middle-age, he was as agile, skilled, soulful and devoted to his craft as he had been in his early years. Not once during (what I consider to be) increasingly strenuous and complex dances and routines, where MJ moved, popped, dropped to the stage floor and leaped right back up flawlessly, did he break a sweat. Never once was this man, half a century old, out of breath or lagging behind. Never once did his 50 years show their ripening. It truly makes me want to hit the gym...maybe.

I wish I could have seen This Is It live. It was clearly becoming one of those once-in-a-lifetime types of events. It was designed to be larger than life and more majestic than even the most diehard MJ fan could have hoped for and imagined. Every sound was tended to and every movement was passionately created by MJ himself. And it was because he had his fingers dipped into every aspect of this concert that it was going to be unprecedented. After all, Michael Jackson was the innovator, never the imitator.

Michael Jackson always said he was most comfortable on stage. It was as if the boy, reluctantly turned man, was never comfortable in his own skin. He seemed at his best when he was displayed on stage for the world – the freak show keeping us captivated. Well, this fact is evident in this documentary. Michael seems happiest and most at ease on the stage where we put him so long ago.

With his dancers, MJ was present. He resuscitated his momentous days of super stardom by blowing the dust off his magic box of tricks. He revived the once-thought-dead career by reworking and perfecting steps we can almost all do in our sleep. He kept pace with people half his age, not as someone purportedly satiated of violently powerful chemicals, but as someone in the prime of his life.

He harmonized with his singers, not as someone drugged beyond coherency, but as someone living in the moment. He both exercised and conserved his voice throughout, scolding himself when the talent in him would escape his control in what he considered wasteful overuse. He proved again, in moments of spontaneous acapella, why he sold millions of records over the years. He dated himself a bit, showing a vulnerable side, as he became frustrated trying to adapt to the new technologies of a craft he mastered decades ago. He worked on every note with his musicians, as if one misguided note would throw off his entire show. In his world, it probably would have. He snapped his fingers, beat-boxed, and sounded out every note trying to convey the genius caged within to every participant of this show.

He sat with his director and cinematographers, painstakingly going through scenes, footage and backgrounds, not as someone peeking in on his employees, but as someone with as much input and opinions as his co-creators and artists. He wore all of the hats: dancer, singer, set designer, make-up artist, director, filmmaker...perfectionist. He was never just going through the motions. For me, it was like watching a cauldron of magic potions simmering over an open flame. That is why the fact that the flame was blown out before the cauldron boiled is so incredibly sad.

Of course, it would not be Michael, if there was not also some deep-rooted message of hope and change (current president notwithstanding) weaved in with his music and showmanship. He had to leave room for it. It was just who he was. And so for this show, it was to have been his hope and concern for a global effort to save the globe from all of our wasteful, menacing ways. Since the planet was his stage, what better stage to have made his point?

As the rehearsals took on the urgency of approaching presentation and as the acts came together in small masterpieces, you could feel the doom of what we know is the outcome of all of this incredibly hard work. It was as if he was reaching a pinnacle in his career and then someone – maybe Michael himself – dropped a curtain on him.

When it is over, you just have to wonder what would have come after the fact. What would the media – both here and around the globe – have done with this work? What would have been the outcome of the series of concerts to be known as This Is It? Could this have been the moment that brought Michael Jackson back to us, his once adoring public, and put him yet again in a positive light? Would it have been the in-your-face show Michael was seeking? One truth remains: We will never know how large (or doubtfully small) This Is It would have been.

All I know is that watching just the preparation of this stage spectacular was enough for me to miss him already. It was enough for me to regret never having caught him in concert, though I imagine I would have been really upset if I had been a ticket-holder for This Is It. This film was enough for me to understand the magnitude of the loss. It was enough for me to wish he would have made better choices, instead of the selfish ones he did make. It was enough for me to be saddened by how quickly and unceremoniously it all came to an end.

I will not be surprised if there is an Academy Award lurking in the future of This Is It. I hope there is. If it comes to that, it will be a more fitting way for Michael Jackson to take his final bow.