Michael(2026): Safe Marketing With a Blanket He’s Just a Man, dude.

By: Jassy diaries|Posted on: May 16th, 2026 Saturday

Let me be clear about something before I even get into it — I went into this movie wanting to be moved.

Michael Jackson is one of the most fascinating performers that has been in the public eye, and his story, the REAL version of it, has the bones of something genuinely extraordinary. So when I say what I'm about to say, understand it's coming from someone who wanted this to be good.

It wasn't.

Well — it wasn't what it could've been. And somehow that's worse.

The Michael biopic did something that I find genuinely frustrating in storytelling — it kept the aesthetic of Michael Jackson without the actual depth of who he was as a person. You get the sequined glove. You get the hat. You get those mannerisms that Jaafar Jackson — and I'll get to him — absolutely had down. But what you don't get is the interior of this man. What drove him. What broke him. What made him, at his core, him.

Instead, what we got was Michael Jackson portrayed as emotionally hollow — a guy who moved through conflict with the energy of someone who never quite graduated from adolescence emotionally. Weaponizing immaturity. Using people as escape goats to dart around accountability. And I kept thinking — is THIS the version we're supposed to walk away understanding? Because all I saw was surface.

"They kept the aesthetic of Michael Jackson without the actual depth of who he was. You get the glove. You get the hat. What you don't get is the interior of this man."

The movie was rushed, and it absolutely should not have been. This is a story that demanded time, patience, and creative courage. What we got instead was a film that seemed to be saying — yes, yes, Michael is talented, you already know this, so let's just get you engaged enough to come back for Part 2. And the problem is — no. You don't get to do that. When you're telling someone's story, especially someone this complex, you don't get to skip the work and bank on legacy to carry you across the finish line.

And that's exactly what this felt like. Banking off Michael's fandom to save a movie that wasn't fully cooked.

Let's talk about the erasure. Janet Jackson. Randy Jackson. Rebbie Jackson — actively missing from this story. The Jackson family dynamic was central to who Michael was. You cannot tell his story and conveniently sideline the siblings who were IN it with him. That's not a biopic.

That's selective fiction. And honestly? They dodged a bullet not being attached to this slapped-together project.

Then there's the Joseph situation. Making Joe Jackson into this one-dimensional big bad wolf — viciously living through his children to achieve his own failed dreams — actually let Michael off the hook emotionally. Real depth would've shown both truths at once. Yes, the abuse was real and the damage was real. AND Michael, as a grown adult, carried his own responsibility. The movie chose the easier, more sympathetic narrative.

It kept calling Katherine "Mother" throughout in a way that felt pointed — almost like a constant reminder, and I kept wondering, is this a Jehovah's Witness thing or what? It felt like a tic the script couldn't shake.

The Pepsi commercial burn scene — they could portray THAT with specificity and care. One of the most physically traumatic, publicly humiliating moments of his life — rendered in vivid detail. But the Thriller music video? Beat It? Bad? The moments that defined his artistry and his genius were glossed over, rushed through, or left for the imagination. They couldn't even transition us from rehearsal into the making of those iconic visuals. We should've seen him ON SET. Those ideas should've been placed on screen and into reality. Instead — cut. Next scene. Drag.

"His pain was more filmable than his humanity. His suffering was dramatic content. His genius, apparently, was not cinematic enough."

And the glove — worn throughout the ENTIRE film after the burn. Whether that was intentional dark humor or just tone-deaf filmmaking, it sits wrong either way. You're either making a quiet joke at his expense or you have no idea what you're doing visually. Neither is acceptable in a film that's supposed to be a tribute.

There were moments where I genuinely almost walked out. The plot was dragging and coddling to the point where I forgot what story we were even supposed to be watching. What came through loudest wasn't Michael Jackson's greatness — it was the ego and arrogance of a project that thought his name alone would do the heavy lifting. Safe marketing with a blanket. Nothing to leave you in awe. Not something you revisit unless you have a serious parasocial relationship with this man already.

Now — here's where I give credit because it's deserved and I'm not going to withhold it.

JAAFAR JACKSON, JULIANO VALDI, COLMAN DOMINGO, and NIA LONG

Jaafar Jackson had Michael's mannerisms down to a level that is genuinely uncanny. The physicality, the voice, the delicacy — he brought something real to this role. The problem is the movie overshadowed his capabilities. He wasn't given the screen time or the emotional material to fully show what he could do. That's on the project, not on him.

And Juliano Valdi, who played young Michael in the Jackson 5 years — that young man did a wonderful job. His work in those earlier scenes was some of the most alive and emotionally present storytelling in the entire film. It was just the wrong movie for him. I can see him in more projects and I genuinely hope he enjoys his journey in acting. He showed up fully for a project that didn't fully show up for its own story.

FINAL VERDICT

C+

The talent was there. The vision wasn't. Everyone who showed up to act gave it something real — and that's the only reason this isn't sitting at a D. The curve belongs to the performers, not the project.

Will I watch Part 2? Sure. At home. Not in theatres. Because there's nothing to look forward to entertainment-wise when the foundation is this lazy. Lazy storytelling plus Hollywood ego is a combination that keeps producing projects that coast on names and nostalgia instead of doing the actual work of making something that matters.

Michael Jackson's real story — the unfiltered, honest version — would've been one of the most compelling films ever made. The mental health piece alone was valid and necessary and completely unchecked in this movie. He was an adult, fully capable of making his own choices, and the film kept miniaturizing that. Kept making excuses. Kept coddling.

Mental health is valid. Accountability is also valid. Both things can be true at the same time and a real biopic would've held both without flinching.

The movie that should exist about Michael Jackson doesn't exist yet. Maybe it never will — not as long as the people controlling the narrative have something to protect. And maybe that's the saddest part of all of this. Not what was in the film. But everything that was quietly, deliberately left out.

At the end of the day — he's just a man.