Nov. 2, 2009

We arrived at the theater early so we could get a good seat. I thought we’d have to wait in line forever. I thought the place would be crammed with fans wearing one white glove, Michael tee shirts and holding “I love Michael” signs.

It wasn’t.

This alone made me sad.

Maybe it’s my age, I thought. Or perhaps it’s where I live—maybe a lot of people have espoused the belief that Michael Jackson was a pedophile.

I’ve posted my feelings about that before, so I won’t go into it here. See my entry of July 1, 2009 if you’re interested.

Whatever the reason, there were only a handful of people in the theater. Too bad for those who didn’t make the effort.

I have one word for this film: SPECTACULAR.

It wasn’t about Michael Jackson’s plastic surgeries, “Neverland” or the allegations brought against him in the past. “This Is It” was about the man’s musical genius. Period.

And he was. He transcended gender. He transcended race. And in this movie, he transcended the ultimate performance.

I have never been what you would call of fan of Jackson’s. I don’t even own any of his albums, and as my husband and I walked out of the theater the other night, I realized why. It’s because Michael was like my brother. I didn’t need to buy his music, he was just always there; I grew up with him. He and I were about the same age and I distinctly remember seeing him on TV way back in the ‘70s, wowing audiences as he outshined his brothers as lead singer of The Jackson 5—with their loud, striped, bellbottom pants, puffy ‘fros and all. I was rooting for him way back then, like a sister on the sidelines.

“This Is It” is footage from the long-anticipated Michael Jackson tour that never happened. It shows dancers auditioning and working tirelessly to give a perfect performance. It shows the sound people, musicians and special-effects crew. The sheer volume of people involved, not to mention the amount of money and props it must have taken to put on a live show of this magnitude is something I’m sure I could never comprehend. There were life-sized bulldozers, giant spiders, a cherry-picker, a black and white mini-film with Jackson spliced into Humphrey Bogart movies for “Smooth Criminal,” a complete theatrical graveyard scene for “Thriller,” a short jungle piece showing all kinds of animals and a little girl with a dream for a new world, and pyrotechnics to blow your mind. These are just the ones I can remember, and each one was a separate production of its own, done sparing no expense in any aspect. Everything was over-the-top perfect plus another 75 percent.

And then there was Michael. Looking extremely thin (I’d read somewhere that he weighed about 130 lbs. when he died), he was dressed in sequined jackets and layers of shirts, soft-spoken and rather timid, repeatedly telling people “God bless you” and “I love you.” But when he sang and danced, I realized that Michael had to have been the most talented performer the world will ever know. Even though these were only rehearsals, his moves were so spot-on precise, they seemed almost computerized. How could anybody dance like that? The film showed clips of “Human Nature,” with Michael bathed in pink and purple lights singing “Why? Why?” and it brought tears to my eyes. His intensity, his thirst for perfection and the depth of his soul was nearly palpable, and he wasn’t even giving it all he had; he was saving his voice and strength for the real performance yet to come.

There were a few shots of the Jackson 5 on a split screen, dancing and showing their explosive beginning. There were clips of Michael singing “I’ll Be There,” and it really moved me—the sound of his velvety voice with just the right amount of vibrato, combined with his complete command of his body—a finely-tuned instrument in kind, was amazing.

During “Billie Jean,” someone in the theater behind me actually shouted “Woo hoo!” and it made me smile. Jackson moved his body like ocean waves, flowing from the bottom up and the top down, and the way he looked right into the camera at one point, gave me a glimpse into his soul. What I saw was beautiful.

Throughout the film, I kept trying to think of how I could describe the power, the beat of his songs—so different from what I usually listen to, but larger than life, like Michael was. For lack of a better term, it was professionalism and sheer talent above and beyond, and it pulled me into its heart the way great music does. And I thought too, about how he had become a puppet for our amusement, with a sad and serious face who only smiled once. (I realize these were rehearsals for his big tour, and that’s serious business, but from watching this, I didn’t get the feeling that Michael was happy.)

I thought Aerosmith put on a high-tech, high energy concert, but every live show I’ve seen, now pales in comparison to what Jackson was doing.

I had no idea.

After watching “This Is It,” all I can say is that I desperately regret that I had never seen Michael perform live at least once. It made me realize too, how short and unpredictable life is and that I should do more of the things that make me happy and do them more often.

If you’re in the least bit inclined to go see this movie, DO IT NOW while it’s still on the big screen for another week or so.