Michael (1996) Review: Travolta's Heartwarming Fantasy

The film traces Michael Jackson’s journey from a precocious child star in Gary, Indiana, through his rise as the lead of the Jackson Five, to his emergence as a visionary solo artist. Fuqua and screenwriters weave together two threads: the explosive energy of his early career - crisp performances of “ABC,” “I Want You Back,” and the Motown-era hits - and the quieter, more troubled moments off-stage. We see the relentless pressure from father Joseph Jackson (Colman Domingo), the stabilizing love of mother Katherine (Nia Long), and the guiding hand of Motown founder Berry Gordy (Larenz Tate). The narrative focuses primarily on the 1970s and early 1980s, culminating in the Off the Wall and Thriller eras, leaving his later years as a shadowy backdrop. It’s a choice that keeps the story grounded in the period of his most explosive creativity, though it inevitably leaves many chapters unexplored.

Jaafar Jackson bears an uncanny resemblance to his uncle - the same soft features, the same electric stage presence - but his performance goes beyond mimicry. He captures Michael’s shy, almost childlike offstage vulnerability and then flips a switch into kinetic, otherworldly performer mode. The dance sequences, carefully reconstructed by choreographers and Fuqua’s sharp eye, are the film’s beating heart. A recreation of the 1983 Motown 25th anniversary “Billie Jean” performance is so precise it feels like a séance brought to celluloid. In contrast, Juliano Krue Valdi’s Young Michael conveys the raw innocence and exploitation of a boy pushed into stardom too young - his eyes carrying a weight that no child should know.

Colman Domingo is volcanic as Joseph Jackson, delivering a portrait of a father who believed discipline was the only path to greatness, whether that greatness was earned or beaten into his sons. Nia Long provides the emotional anchor as Katherine, a woman who saw her son’s pain but lacked the power to stop the machine. Larenz Tate’s Berry Gordy is a fascinating figure - both a mentor and a gatekeeper. Miles Teller, as longtime attorney John Branca, appears in the later segments, serving as a narrative device to frame Michael’s business battles.

Fuqua’s direction is at its best in the concert sequences, where he lets the camera breathe and follow Jaafar’s movements with fluidity. The sound design is impeccable - you feel the bass in your chest. But the script occasionally resorts to clunky exposition to move through years of history. The runtime, while not excessive, feels compressed in the second half; certain relationships - particularly with Suzanne de Passe (Laura Harrier) and longtime confidant Bill Bray (KeiLyn Durrel Jones) - beg for more screen time. The film sidesteps the more controversial chapters of Michael’s life with a careful handling that some will call respectful and others will call evasive.

Still, there is a raw sincerity here. Fuqua doesn’t shy away from showing Michael’s isolation, his increasing reliance on painkillers, and the toll of a childhood stolen. The final act, set around the Thriller era, lands with a bittersweet punch - a reminder that even at the peak of fame, he was a lonely artist searching for a love he never fully received. The TMDb rating of 8.7/10 reflects a near-unanimous audience embrace, though critics have been more divided.

Pros

• Jaafar Jackson’s mesmerizing performance - equal parts imitation and incarnation
• The musical sequences are masterfully staged, with choreography that honors the original while feeling cinematic
• Strong supporting cast, especially Colman Domingo and Nia Long
• Fuqua’s direction captures the electric energy of live performance
• Respectful handling of Michael’s vulnerabilities without turning them into melodrama

Cons

• The narrative feels rushed in its second half, skipping over key periods
• Some supporting characters (Suzanne de Passe, Bill Bray) are underdeveloped
• The film avoids deeper exploration of later controversies, which may frustrate viewers seeking more complexity
• Occasional script clichés drag down an otherwise sharp screenplay

Michael is a biopic that understands rhythm before it understands structure. It stumbles in its need to compress a sprawling, complicated life, but when it hits its groove - those moments of pure, transcendent performance - it reminds you why the world fell in love with Michael Jackson in the first place. Jaafar Jackson is a revelation, and Antoine Fuqua has crafted a loving tribute that will leave audiences both cheering and quietly heartbroken. For fans, it’s essential. For everyone else, it’s a powerful glimpse into the making of a legend.