Michael Jackson was a once-in-a-century cultural force--inducted into the Rock Hall of Fame (twice), the Songwriters Hall of Fame, the Dance Hall of Fame. He is the first and (to date) the only figure from the world of rock/pop to earn that last distinction.
We might not tend to think of Jackson as a "singer-songwriter," but some of his best songs came from his own brain. "Smooth Criminal," "Billie Jean," "Bad"--all these were products of MJ's pen. ("Bad" was to be a duet with Prince. But Prince said, "The first line is your butt is mine. I'm not singing that to you. You're not singing that to me. So....")
MJ was a pedophile and a monster; the NYTimes has suggested that the strange deterioration of MJ's face may have mirrored some kind of inner, spiritual deterioration. This makes sense to me; if you look at the Golden State Killer, you just think, that's the face of a man who is unwell. Not that this excuses bad behavior, but it's interesting to note that MJ was himself a victim of severe mistreatment; his father dumped years of physical and emotional abuse on the Jackson household, and it's suggested that MJ's eventual addiction to painkillers was a trend that Joe Jackson actually encouraged.
A turning point for MJ was "Off the Wall," an iconic album that the Grammy Awards basically ignored. MJ--infuriated by the racism of the industry--decided that he wouldn't quit. He would in fact demand to be worshipped. His next album, "Thriller," won many prizes on Grammy night--and it allowed MJ to become "the first Black artist to conquer MTV." MTV didn't want to play Jackson videos--but Jackson's fans were loud enough that they forced a (small) moment of "racial awakening" on the MTV bosses.
One of the treats of the new "MJ" musical--which is messy, badly written, gloriously focused on a brilliant Myles Frost, cynical, shallow, mesmerizing--is that you see just a minute of the song "Thriller" at the end of Act One. You think that's all you get. It's there to highlight an important part of Jackson's stratospheric rise. BUT, at the end of Act Two, when you're wishing to see the zombies, "Thriller" is shockingly repurposed as an autobiographical statement for MJ. In a mental breakdown, MJ summons his own demons (notably, his father) -- and he wanders into a graveyard and tells us what his life is really like:
You try to scream...
But terror takes the sound before you make it...
You start to freeze....
As horror looks you right between the eyes...
By this point, MJ is running not just from his father but also from himself. As you watch the ghouls onstage, you can't help but think of the evenings when MJ chose to rape children; this seems to be by design.
As frustrating as the show can be, it held my attention. And now I'm ready for a "Janet" musical.
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