Michael: The King of Pop Gets a Glossy, Formulaic Biopic

Ever since Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story so effectively skewered the formula of the music biopic, it’s been hard to watch the genre without a more critical lens. And yet, in recent years, these films have continued to thrive both commercially and during awards season, from Bohemian Rhapsody, to Rocketman, Elvis, and A Complete Unknown, all having varying levels of success. Still, the genre is increasingly facing critical backlash for its reliance on a familiar, almost mechanical structure, often offering little more than an A-list actor doing an impersonation of a musical icon paired with a Wikipedia-style retelling of their life.

While artists like Queen, Elton John, Elvis Presley, and Bob Dylan have left an undeniable mark on global culture, Michael Jackson arguably exists in a category of his own. From his early years with The Jackson 5 to his era-defining solo career, his influence on music and pop culture is virtually unparalleled, perhaps rivaled only by The Beatles.

But Jackson’s legacy is also deeply complicated, shaped by long-standing controversies that make any attempt to bring his story to the screen inherently challenging. That complexity has carried over into the production itself, which has faced multiple delays, including extensive reshoots and the removal of entire sections dealing with his legal battles. A difficult subject to navigate, it is unlikely the film would have been handled his troubled history with the nuance it demands. As a result, the film has been restructured to focus on Jackson’s rise, from his time with the Jackson 5 to his emergence as the biggest pop star in the world following the success of Thriller.

Unfortunately, Michael is one of the weakest music biopics in recent memory. It rarely deviates from the well-worn formula, offering little in the way of stylistic or thematic originality. For anyone already familiar with Jackson’s life, there’s little here that feels revealing. Instead, the film presents a sanitized, streamlined version of his story, carefully packaged for maximum accessibility. It touches on his hardships, such as the abuse he endured from his father, and his struggle to break away from the Jackson 5, but these moments feel softened to appeal to the demands of the Jackson estate.

Like Bohemian Rhapsody, the film feels engineered first and foremost as a crowd-pleaser; one that prioritizes getting audiences to sing along . On that level, it succeeds. The film runs through the expected hits, from Jackson 5 classics to the defining tracks from ‘Off the Wall’ and ‘Thriller’, staging the creative process behind them while recreating Jackson’s signature choreography.

Never being particularly drawn to Antoine Fuqua as a filmmaker for his lack of a distinct visual or narrative voice across his work, the musical sequences here are undeniably engaging. He captures the energy of Jackson’s performances so well, and the recreations of his most iconic moments are sure to get audiences dancing out of their seats. The film’s greatest strength, however, lies in its performances. Juliano Krue Valdi is excellent as the young Jackson, capturing both his voice and presence with impressive authenticity. Meanwhile, Jaafar Jackson takes over for the majority of the film from there, and while his portrayal occasionally slips into caricature, his physicality and vocal performance are strikingly accurate, especially in the film’s musical sequences. On the other hand, Colman Domingo and Nia Long bring a welcome sense of weight and gravitas as Jackson’s parents, Joseph and Katherine.

At its core, Michael feels like a hollow, lifeless portrayal of one of the most iconic musicians of all time, offering such a superficial perspective that even casual fans are unlikely to discover anything new. While there are flashes of excitement to be had, through its recreations of music videos and performances that shaped his legacy, they never cohere into something meaningful, leaving the film feeling too Hollywoodized and inauthentic to leave any sort of mark after the credits roll.

still courtesy of Cineplex Pictures

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Tristan French