Let’s agree: “Michael Jackson’s This Is It” was undertaken too soon to be the watershed documentary the extraordinary performer deserved.
Assembled with care for Jackson’s legacy by Kenny Ortega, his longtime creative collaborator, the movie is less a full-on portrait than a tantalizing sketch of an artist at work.
Turns out there’s beauty in that.
Jackson died on June 25, weeks before his comeback concert was to start a vigorous, sold-out run at London’s O2 Arena.
The film captures rehearsals of what might have been. And its skillful editing (creating compelling performances from more than one rehearsal) also hints at what the movie might have been had there been a more considered waiting period.
Two weeks ago, the single “This Is It” was released. It’s a wan bit of business, especially in comparison with the hits that Jackson runs through at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. The film begins aptly with “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’.”
And the movie gives us a better reason for its title. In a series of video interviews taken presumably during the audition process, a teary dancer gives a heartfelt confession. He wanted to be a part of something, he says. “This is it,” he adds.
Jackson intended the concerts to be a gift to his fans. And the movie is for — and of — fans. All those fine young troupers and singers and musicians who complement Jackson onstage seem to have been “M.J.” devotees years before they were old enough to stand on stage with their idol.
Ortega is respectful. He presents himself on-screen more as a facilitator of Jackson’s vision than a hard-charging director.
For his part, Jackson is portrayed as decisive. His only rival on-screen this year would be Vogue editor Anna Wintour in “The September Issue.” His suggestions to music director Michael Bearden may be uttered in that soft voice, but they can be sharp. He always seems to know what shimmering mood he’s working toward, what peculiar power he wants to achieve.
As a dancer, Jackson nailed some perfect — as in platonic — idea of sexiness. Pure performance is his object of desire, the thing that he pursues.
There’s an astonishing precision to Jackson and Travis Payne’s choreography. Lord, that chil’ could dance. Jackson understood the power of stillness as much as he explored the thrill of motion. Decades later, the familiar shimmy and slide of “Thriller” and the hand gestures of “Beat It” remain vivid.
“This Is It” convinces audiences that the show would have been grand and grandiose, had it gone on.
An updated video for “Thriller” looks like a great, ghoulish hoot. A short film scored to “Smooth Criminal” plays out like a noir. Jackson sits in a night club, a fedora pulled down, while another of Tinsel Town’s tragic figures wows: Rita Hayworth performing “Put the Blame on Mame” as Gilda. In addition to Hayworth, Jackson finds himself in the company of Humphrey Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, Gloria Grahame. Sure, it’s a statement about Jackson’s place in the iconic firmament, but it’s also a sweet articulation of his inner fan. As he watches Hayworth, it’s too easy, perhaps, to ponder how identification took root in the man who looked more and more feminine as he aged. Who did he see when he looked in the mirror?
Because the film hews to Jackson at work, his genius resists the armchair psychologizing that his tabloid life and death plunged us into.
“This Is It” isn’t groundbreaking as nonfiction films — or even concert films — go. But after all the speculation about motives, it has done something utterly decent. “This Is It” allows audiences to spend time in the company of an artist with a impossible work ethic doing the thing he loved.
Film critic Lisa Kennedy: 303-954-1567 or lkennedy@denverpost.com; also on blogs.denverpostcom/madmoviegoer
“MICHAEL JACKSON’S THIS IS IT.”
PG for some suggestive choreography and scary images. 1 hour, 52 minutes. Directed by Kenny Ortega; photography by Kevin Mazur; featuring Michael Jackson, Kenny Ortega, Travis Payne, Michael Bearden, Judith Hill, Orianthi Panagaris. Open at area theaters a for two-week run.
