Michael dominated the Nigerian box office with historic numbers when it opened, proving Michael Jackson still draws massive crowds decades after his death. The film charts his rise from Gary, Indiana, through the Jackson 5 years, into solo stardom, and ends with the Bad tour in 1988. That endpoint isn’t accidental. By stopping there, the film sidesteps the accusations and legal battles that defined Jackson’s later life. This is a hagiography, not a biography.
Reports suggest those darker chapters were originally included before conflicts with the Jackson estate led to their removal. What remains is a scrubbed version of Jackson’s story that celebrates his genius while avoiding anything that might tarnish the legacy.
Jaafar Jackson, Michael’s nephew, plays his uncle as an adult. The physical resemblance is striking enough to carry the casting, though his performance rarely goes beyond surface imitation. When he’s not performing, Jaafar’s Michael smiles constantly: watching TV with his mother Katherine (Nia Long), visiting children’s hospitals, buying exotic animals he calls friends instead of pets. The perpetual pleasantness creates a disconnect. How does this sweet, childlike figure write Billie Jean, a song dripping with paranoia and sexual tension? The film never addresses it.
Joe Jackson’s abuse gets screen time without real examination. Colman Domingo plays Michael’s father with clear menace, but the film treats the violence as backstory rather than something that shaped who Michael became. There’s a line Joe delivers before it’s abruptly cut: “In this life you’re either a winner or a loser.” That philosophy defined everything. To Joe, Michael wasn’t his son. He was the product, the cash cow, the one who mattered. When Jermaine left the Jackson 5, Joe barely reacted. When Michael announced their farewell tour from stage, Joe looked ready to combust. The favoritism is obvious but unexplored.
That pressure didn’t just drive Michael’s career. It stole his childhood entirely. The film shows him surrounded by animals, a giraffe, a chimpanzee, a snake, creatures he called friends because he never learned how to connect with people his own age. He was forced to grow up before he was ready, becoming a lonely adult seeking companionship from anything that wouldn’t demand more than he could give. The film hints at this isolation but refuses to sit with it long enough to matter.
Katherine Jackson loves her son, but the film doesn’t ask why she never intervened when Joe’s abuse escalated. Nia Long plays her with warmth, yet Katherine remains reactive rather than active, another figure orbiting Michael instead of a fully realized character.
The supporting cast fades entirely. Miles Teller’s lawyer John Branca (one of the film’s producers in real life) offers constant support without depth. Michael’s brothers are forgettable despite some producing the film. Janet Jackson doesn’t appear at all.
One strong sequence involves Michael forcing MTV to air Black artistes. Through promoter Walter Yetnikoff (Mike Meyers), Michael threatens to pull CBS Records’ roster unless MTV plays his videos. It’s a moment where he wields power to break barriers, and the film handles it well.
The music itself becomes a problem. The film recreates performances without adding context or exploring what Jackson was feeling when he created these songs. They’re just milestones to check off rather than windows into his interior life.
Ending at 1988 means avoiding everything complicated. The accusations, the trials, the public unraveling, all gone. The film even teases a sequel, which feels less like creative ambition and more like kicking difficult conversations down the road. Yes, fitting a legend’s life into two hours is hard. Avoiding the hardest parts doesn’t solve that challenge.
Antoine Fuqua and screenwriter John Logan chose celebration over interrogation. That choice has an audience, clearly, given the box office response. People who want Michael Jackson’s genius celebrated without complications will find exactly that. People who want a film grappling with all of who he was won’t.
The film works as a spectacle. Concert sequences are well-staged, production design recreates each era convincingly, and Jaafar’s resemblance sells the illusion. What’s missing is depth. We see what Michael did but rarely understand why or what it cost him beyond his father’s abuse.
Michael delivers a tribute to an icon’s talent and impact. It just refuses to examine who that icon actually was beneath the sequined glove and moonwalk. The box office success will justify the approach, but success doesn’t mean the film achieved what it could have. It had access to one of music’s most fascinating, troubled figures and chose the safest possible version of his story.
Michael dominated the Nigerian box office with historic numbers when it opened, proving Michael Jackson still draws massive crowds decades after his death. The film charts his rise from Gary, Indiana, through the Jackson 5 years, into solo stardom, and ends with the Bad tour in 1988. That endpoint isn't accidental. By stopping there, the film sidesteps the accusations and legal battles that defined Jackson's later life. This is a hagiography, not a biography. Reports suggest those darker chapters were originally included before conflicts with the Jackson estate led to their removal. What remains is a scrubbed version of Jackson's story that celebrates his genius while avoiding anything that might tarnish the legacy. Jaafar Jackson, Michael's nephew, plays his uncle as an adult. The physical resemblance is striking enough to carry the casting, though his performance rarely goes beyond surface imitation. When he's not performing, Jaafar's Michael smiles constantly: watching TV with his mother Katherine (Nia Long), visiting children's hospitals, buying exotic animals he calls friends instead of pets. The perpetual pleasantness creates a disconnect. How does this sweet, childlike figure write Billie Jean, a song dripping with paranoia and sexual tension? The film never addresses it. Joe Jackson's abuse gets screen time without real examination. Colman Domingo plays Michael's father with clear menace, but the film treats the violence as backstory rather than something that shaped who Michael became. There's a line Joe delivers before it's abruptly cut: "In this life you're either a winner or a loser." That philosophy defined everything. To Joe, Michael wasn't his son. He was the product, the cash cow, the one who mattered. When Jermaine left the Jackson 5, Joe barely reacted. When Michael announced their farewell tour from stage, Joe looked ready to combust. The favoritism is obvious but unexplored. That pressure didn't just drive Michael's career. It stole his childhood entirely. The film shows him surrounded by animals, a giraffe, a chimpanzee, a snake, creatures he called friends because he never learned how to connect with people his own age. He was forced to grow up before he was ready, becoming a lonely adult seeking companionship from anything that wouldn't demand more than he could give. The film hints at this isolation but refuses to sit with it long enough to matter. Katherine Jackson loves her son, but the film doesn't ask why she never intervened when Joe's abuse escalated. Nia Long plays her with warmth, yet Katherine remains reactive rather than active, another figure orbiting Michael instead of a fully realized character. The supporting cast fades entirely. Miles Teller's lawyer John Branca (one of the film's producers in real life) offers constant support without depth. Michael's brothers are forgettable despite some producing the film. Janet Jackson doesn't appear at all. One strong sequence involves Michael forcing MTV to air Black artistes. Through promoter Walter Yetnikoff (Mike Meyers), Michael threatens to pull CBS Records' roster unless MTV plays his videos. It's a moment where he wields power to break barriers, and the film handles it well. The music itself becomes a problem. The film recreates performances without adding context or exploring what Jackson was feeling when he created these songs. They're just milestones to check off rather than windows into his interior life. Ending at 1988 means avoiding everything complicated. The accusations, the trials, the public unraveling, all gone. The film even teases a sequel, which feels less like creative ambition and more like kicking difficult conversations down the road. Yes, fitting a legend's life into two hours is hard. Avoiding the hardest parts doesn't solve that challenge. Antoine Fuqua and screenwriter John Logan chose celebration over interrogation. That choice has an audience, clearly, given the box office response. People who want Michael Jackson's genius celebrated without complications will find exactly that. People who want a film grappling with all of who he was won't. The film works as a spectacle. Concert sequences are well-staged, production design recreates each era convincingly, and Jaafar's resemblance sells the illusion. What's missing is depth. We see what Michael did but rarely understand why or what it cost him beyond his father's abuse. Michael delivers a tribute to an icon's talent and impact. It just refuses to examine who that icon actually was beneath the sequined glove and moonwalk. The box office success will justify the approach, but success doesn't mean the film achieved what it could have. It had access to one of music's most fascinating, troubled figures and chose the safest possible version of his story.
Release Date: April 24, 2026
Runtime: Approximately 2 hours
Streaming Service: Theatrical release
Directed by: Antoine Fuqua
Cast: Jaafar Jackson, Colman Domingo, Nia Long, Miles Teller, Mike Meyers
