When MJ the Musical – a major new Broadway show about Michael Jackson – opened earlier this year, a few reviews referenced the same song from the King of Pop’s back catalogue. “In MJ, No One’s Looking at the Man in the Mirror,” ran the headline from The New York Times. “Mesmerising parade of hits doesn’t look in the mirror,” went The Guardian’s. AP News was more direct – “Some thriller, lots bad” – while Vulture went niche, declaring that “MJ Exists in a Hyperbaric Chamber of Denial”. But across the board, critics expressed discomfort at how the show celebrated Jackson seemingly without much scrutiny, ignoring the allegations of child sexual abuse that had dogged him for many years.
Regardless, the show is a huge hit, has won four Tony Awards, and this week came the announcement that MJ will open in London’s West End in 2024 – something that sits strangely with me. Did we really need a new musical about Jackson, someone whose legacy has long been overshadowed? The signs from Broadway suggest that if we did, it wasn’t this one.
MJ’s creative team do seem to have been aware of that question. A choice has been made to set the musical in the build-up to Jackson’s 1992 Dangerous tour – notably, the year before any accusations were publicly made against him. An MTV journalist arrives to badger him with annoying questions about his quirky behaviour, and he apparently replies, “With respect, I wanna keep this about my music”. You bet he does.
The show is the work of respected theatre-makers: directed by Christopher Wheeldon, who brought a chic An American Paris to the stage, with MJ’s book written by playwright Lynn Nottage, whose play Sweat, about the decline of industry in America’s rustbelt, won multiple awards. But, crucially, it has also been co-produced by Jackson’s estate, who have always vehemently denied any allegations. It’s often the way with jukebox musicals: without the estate’s backing, it’s difficult to get the rights to use an artist’s songs, but it’s a tricky deal, meaning the story often side-steps any negativity. At the Broadway premiere, a Variety reporter was apparently removed from the red carpet for asking “difficult questions”.
What should we do with the great art of problematic people? It’s one of the most contested debates of our time. That Jackson made ground-breaking, near-perfect pop music is undeniable. And that music lives on, to be enjoyed by anyone, whenever they wish. If you still love it, that’s fine; if you can’t face playing his songs, that’s also fine. Recently, I was in a café that was blasting his greatest hits and I had the queasy sense I was trapped in a place where no one had read the news for 20 years – but of course, those are just my own personal feelings, and everyone’s relationship with Jackson’s music is individual. But the way that we choose to frame his life – and, more significantly, the decision to celebrate it unchallenged – is a very different choice. After Leaving Neverland, the 2019 documentary that featured detailed, harrowing testimonies from two of Jackson’s accusers, it’s also one that’s harder to make peace with.
It’s increasingly clear that the bog-standard biopic isn’t fit for the era that we’re living through. It’s too neat, too template-like, and, in our prolonged mood of reckoning, glossing over the more challenging behaviour of public or historical figures is seen as a moral failure. Jukebox musicals – essentially biopics with songs in – are similarly often unfit for this level of complexity. Think of Tina: The Tina Turner Musical, which confronted the domestic abuse the singer faced at the hands of ex-husband Ike Turner. While it was laudable to see a populist mainstream musical address such a difficult topic, it sat oddly – at the performance I saw, the actor who played Ike was booed at the curtain call like a pantomime figure.
Last year’s Bob Marley musical, Get Up Stand Up, did at least try to address the reggae star’s notorious womanising by giving some of his best songs to the female performers; as his wife Rita, Gabrielle Brooks sang No Woman No Cry as a lament of pain. Of course, dark experiences or undesirable characteristics are a very different matter to allegations of serious crimes. But the issue remains: these shows are fundamentally designed to give audiences a fun night out, and knottier elements often end up tonally discordant. The New York Times argued in its review of MJ that the avoidance of more troubling questions actually makes it a less good show. “Ultimately, the problem with “MJ” is not its ethical stance but the way that stance distorts its value as entertainment,” wrote Jesse Green.
Most of us will have a gut reaction when we hear the name, “Michael Jackson”. Some believe he was innocent; some don’t. Some can enjoy his music; some just can’t. Some will buy a ticket to MJ and have a great time; others won’t touch it with a 10ft bargepole. The fact that, on Broadway, the show has averaged over $1m a week at the box office suggests the West End will likely love it too. Yes, the music will live on – but the question of how we tell the story of the man himself is far from black or white.
‘MJ the Musical’ will open at the Prince Edward Theatre in March 2024
