I have an admittedly schizophrenic reaction when it comes to critiquing. I acknowledge that I often do muse about media in a way that I would suppose could classify me as one, but I’m far too devoid of self-worth and keenly aware of the size of my footprint to even think that what I opine can actually move anyone one way or the other. Especially after the humbling–nay, demoralizing–week that I’ll hopefully be able to complete later today.
Besides, I built what career I may have once had on the simple premise that not only are there no right nor right answers when it comes to people who do express them, there is only one verdict that ultimately matters in a world ruled by profit and loss–the vox populi as expressed in dollars and/or ratings. And this weekend we have the newly released MICHAEL as a stellar example of such a reality check. Yesterday FORBES’ prolific Paul Tassi pointed out exactly how stark that dichotomy is:
Michael looks like it’s about to blow up the global box office, perhaps no great surprise for a biopic about Michael Jackson, one of the most famous musicians of all time. Some have already flocked to see it, and now Michael has just set a full-on Rotten Tomatoes audience score record in the wake of that.
Critics mostly disliked Michael, giving it a 40% Rotten Tomatoes score, which puts it among the worst-reviewed biopics of the last few years. Audiences? They cannot get enough of it. With well over a thousand reviews in, Michael has a 96% audience score, the highest on Rotten Tomatoes for any biopic.
At the same time, THE WRAP’s Jeremy Fuster observed how much greater a chasm might yet ensue once Monday morning rolls around:
With Jackson’s fans set to come out in droves all weekend, Lionsgate is now projecting a domestic opening of at least $70 million, enough to pass the $60.2 million opening of “Straight Outta Compton” to become the highest opening ever for a music biopic. However, exhibition sources say the film has the potential to go even higher, possibly passing the $82.4 million opening of “Oppenheimer” to become the highest opening for any biopic.
Even if it doesn’t get there, “Michael” is on course to become Lionsgate’s highest domestic grossing film outside of the “Hunger Games” or “Twilight” franchises with a minimum $200 million-plus run. A strong overseas run, which is being handled by Universal, is also expected, which could allow it to challenge the $906 million global music biopic record held by “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
Ironically, it is that experience that prompted my old 20th Century FOX drinking buddy to bring this project to light in the first place, as explained by ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY’s Randall Colburn and Allison DeGrushe during the drumroll fortnight:
The film’s roots date back to 2019, when producer Graham King, an architect of the Oscar-winning Freddie Mercury biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, announced his intentions to bring Jackson’s story to the big screen. The project has secured several high-profile artists, from A-listers like Colman Domingo and Miles Teller to director Antoine Fuqua and Oscar-nominated screenwriter John Logan.
The story that King related to MOVIEFONE’s Jami Philbrick earlier this week is identical to the one he told my old boss and I during our regular 5:30 PM Friday happy hour when he was delivering inter-office mail to our trailers as he was just beginning to forge his stellar career:
I was at Dodger Stadium in 1984 at the ‘Victory Tour’ when Michael quit. It was the most amazing organic third act drama and conflict moment you could ask for. You couldn’t ask for it any better. A writer couldn’t write it any better than that. I remember talking to Michael’s brothers about it, “Did you know that he was going to do this?” They were like, “No, we had no idea, and we kind of thought he was playing at the time. We didn’t know he was serious.”
King had us riveted with his vision and his passion–not to mention his tolerance for alcohol–even then, so I’ve been a fan of his ever since. Admittedly, I’m biased, as I am toward Fuqua, who I got to know at Sony while he was developing perhaps the only content for Quibi that ever found anything resembling an audience. So I’m immediately inclined to be dismissive of the sort of elitist ‘tude that ROGEREBERT.com’s Robert Daniel took in the one-star review he authored earlier this week:
(M)ake no mistake about it: “Michael” isn’t a movie. It’s a filmed playlist in search of a story…“Michael,” the first half of the Cliff Notes of the singer’s life, features the Jackson siblings (Jackie, Jermaine, Marlon, La Toya, and the deceased) as executive producers. In every cloying moment, you can notice their fingerprints all over this plastic jukebox picture. “Michael” has already caused many to question what’s missing: Janet Jackson (who indeed doesn’t exist in this “universe”) and any reference to the singer’s legal troubles (though that bankrupted moral and narratively cowardly positioning by Fuqua certainly doesn’t help either). But the absence of those elements isn’t what breaks this insipid biopic. It’s the lack of any complex interest in Michael himself.
There has been an awful lot of criticism that the film’s timeline from when the Jackson 5 began touring when Michael was 7 in 1966 to 1988, just as the first waves of revelations about his indiscretions with children began to surface, papers over the more notorious memories of the troubled, at times dangerous version of him that made him tabloid catnip and ultimately contributed to the unraveling that led to his premature demise at age 50. But the previous film release about Jackson, 2009’s THIS IS IT which became a de facto instant in memorium, covered that portion of his life all too well. Anyone who really wants to know that story if they didn’t happen to live through it can easily find that work on a platform near you.
And if one wants further dirt on the monster that Jackson allegedly evolved into one need look no further than yesterday’s NEW YORK TIMES, when Matt Stevens just happened to drop this sobering rain on the very day the MICHAEL parade kicked off:
In December 2010, Oprah Winfrey invited Dominic and Connie Cascio and three of their five children onto her talk show to discuss Michael Jackson. The pop star and Dominic, a manager of a Manhattan hotel where Mr. Jackson often stayed, had become good friends. For more than two decades, Mr. Jackson had eaten at the Cascios’ New Jersey home, brought them to his Neverland Ranch, took them along on tours around the world and celebrated with them on holidays. The Cascios had become, as they often said, Mr. Jackson’s “second family.”
So a year and a half after Mr. Jackson’s death, the family came forward to talk to Oprah at length about their special relationship — and also to shield their friend from the ugly sexual abuse accusations that had long trailed him. “Were there ever any improprieties with you and Michael Jackson?” Ms. Winfrey asked the Cascio siblings, Eddie, Frank and Marie Nicole, who were now adults, at the interview. They responded in unison: “Never.” They each shook their heads. Their friend Michael, Eddie asserted, “was a target.”
More than 15 years later, the Cascios now say that was a lie. All five of the Cascio children say they were groomed to protect Mr. Jackson and became, as they call it, his “soldiers” — the front line of his defense. Four of the five siblings now say in a lawsuit and in an interview with The New York Times that, in fact, Mr. Jackson had repeatedly sexually assaulted each of them. (The fifth sibling told The Times he was abused, but for legal reasons, his lawyers say he cannot join his siblings’ suit.)
It’s understandable that if they say what happened happened they would want to get their story out at a most opportunistic time to do so. Not just for the soul-cleansing and justice-seeking, of course. King , Fuqua and the rest of their Lionsgate team reportedly have more than enough footage, material and rights to produce a sequel that could conceivably delve into the last half of his life. Judging by the early returns and the need for the struggling studio to have a hit of any kind, one would suspect there’s a chance for a hefty payday ahead should the Cascios’ story be incorporated into it. I’d suspect they–or at least their attorney–has been watching a disproportionate amount of MSNOW in recent times where they’ve taken notice of the public fascination with sexual abusers.
But here’s the sobering truth–when it comes to the appreciation of talent, there’s an expiration date in more folks’ minds than not as to exactly how deep and eternal a grudge one may be willing to hold. Clearly there is a significant segment of fandom that willingly chooses to appreciate the art if not the artist. Bill Cosby reruns now appear again on Byron Allen’s GRIO network. R. Kelly catalogues still make money. And had things broken differently last year we might have gotten some competition for MICHAEL for those determined to go into the underbelly of transformational talents’ personal lives. Remember what USA TODAY’s Taijuan Moorman wrote last February:
A contentious Prince documentary will no longer see the light of day. The nine-hour, bombshell documentary was in development at Netflix for five years before the streamer reportedly pulled the plug in a deal with the superstar’s estate. “The Prince Estate and Netflix have come to a mutual agreement that will allow the estate to develop and produce a new documentary featuring exclusive content from Prince’s archive,” the estate said in a statement released on social media Thursday. “As a result, the Netflix documentary will not be released.
Does the fact that so many are complicit in whitewashing these legacies make us terrible people? I suppose to an extent that’s the case. But in a world where there’s more than enough fodder on a daily basis to indulge those higher-minded interests there’s equal justification for those who simply want to escape into a time and place where that wasn’t the case. The box office and the public at large have decisively indicated how they feel about Michael Jackson–and judging by the outpouring of grief and remembrances also out there on the tenth anniversary of Prince’s own premature death, him as well.
But for the higher-minded souls out there, fear not. Judging by the fact these two couldn’t even a fake a moonwalk they won’t be getting that sort of rachmunis even in your lifetimes.
Until next time…