Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 5 Min

Michael as a biopic does something unique: it actively measures the audience’s threshold for acceptance.

There is a lot at stake. A musical superstar whose legacy feels almost untouchable. A once-in-a-century phenomenon, original to the core. A dancer who seemed to invent his own language of movement. An artist who could write, compose, and choreograph his own songs. The kind of genius some would call divine.

And then, the shadow that trails the genius.

The film chooses to foreshadow it all, offering glimpses of what lies ahead without fully confronting it. Some may call it cautious, even safe. But in a deeply polarized world, where restraint feels less like evasion and more like calculation, you must check the water before you swim.

That is the prevailing mood of Michael. The makers opt for tribute over interrogation.

But does it hold up as a piece of cinema?

Story and Screenplay:

The story begins in 1966 in Gary, Indiana, where Joseph Jackson is determined to mould his sons into the Jackson 5. At just eight, Michael Jackson emerges as the lead voice. The narrative then follows his ascent, from early recognition by industry figures like Suzanne de Passe and Quincy Jones, to his eventual break from the group and pursuit of a solo career by 1988.

Across this 22-year arc, the writing places sustained emphasis on his fraught relationship with his father, examining how control, conflict and ambition within the family shaped both his drive and his vulnerabilities. The film attempts to map how these early experiences informed his creative instincts and personal choices, without over-explaining them.

It also makes a concerted effort to enter the artist’s mind. There is attention to the finer details of how he wrote, composed and choreographed his music, and to the impulses that sparked some of his most defining work. These moments offer a glimpse into process rather than mythology, grounding genius in craft.

However, foreshadowing runs consistently through the screenplay. Recurring motifs such as his affinity for animals, his ease with children, and allusions to Peter Pan and the idea of Neverland Ranch are threaded across timelines. The film repeatedly signals his sense of otherness from an early age but stops short of drawing conclusions.

That said, a substantial portion of the film’s runtime is devoted to the staging of songs and their making. For fans of Michael Jackson, this functions less as narrative progression and more as an extended tribute, where the music itself becomes the central storytelling device.

Performances:

The film devotes considerable attention to the central father–son dynamic, and Colman Domingo brings a simmering menace to Joseph Jackson. The hostility is evident well before any overt abuse; a glance or pause often does the work. The character remains firmly in a dark shade of grey throughout. A touch more backstory might have added dimension, but the performance itself establishes the tension effectively.

As the young Michael Jackson, Juliano Krue Valdi carries much of the opening stretch with assurance. There is a natural ease to his presence that makes the early portions of the film feel grounded, even as the narrative moves quickly through formative years.

Nia Long plays Katherine Jackson with restraint, presenting her largely as a protective yet subdued figure. She conveys warmth and concern, though the writing around her leans towards a more sanitised portrayal, limiting the scope of the character’s internal conflict.

Michael ultimately rests on Jaafar Jackson, and his performance is the defining factor. Rather than an interpretation, it feels like a full inhabitation of the role. For a debut, the control is striking, from physicality to emotional transitions across the two decades depicted. The continuity holds even outside linear shooting, with no visible breaks in character. By the closing stretches, the distinction between actor and subject begins to blur. The prosthetics and makeup teams contribute significantly to the visual transformation, but it is the performance that sustains the illusion. The dance sequences, in particular, are executed with precision, reinforcing the sense of authenticity the film strives for.

Conclusion:

Michael works best when it leans into what it sets out to be, a character study anchored in performance and music rather than a definitive portrait. The writing occasionally holds back, especially in exploring contradictions, but the emotional throughline, the focus on craft, and a committed central performance ensure that the film remains engaging. By the final act, the distinction between narrative and nostalgia begins to blur, and the experience shifts gears. The theatre, almost inevitably, turns into a concert hall, with the audience humming Michael Jackson’s songs, swaying to the beats and tapping their feet. For fans, Michael is a glowing tribute to one of the greatest pop artists of all time.

A sequel to the film is already in development, with a tentative release window between 2027 and 2029. It is expected to chart Michael Jackson’s life from 1988 until his death in 2009, a period that saw him scale unprecedented heights as a global superstar while also becoming one of the most contested figures in modern American cultural history. It is, by any measure, the more complex chapter to attempt on screen, demanding not just scale but conviction. The success of Michael provides a foundation, perhaps even the confidence, to venture deeper. As audiences, the expectation now shifts, from admiration to insight, in the hope that the next chapter moves beyond tribute to deliver a more searching, unflinching portrait. For cinephiles that will be a compelling watch.

Verdict:

IMDb rating: 7.7/10

My rating: 3.5/5

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).

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