I love parachute pants, the moonwalk and grabbing my crotch as much as anyone, but clearly Michael Jackson’s untimely death has skewed most reviewers ability to be objective about this film as a, you know, film.
Cobbled together – in a clear money grab – from rehearsal footage of the comeback concert tour that wasn’t, This Is It is poorly shot, lacks anyone of any merit saying anything even remotely insightful (including the film’s director Kenny Ortega) and keeps Jackson in exactly the same space he has inhabited (in life and death) for decades: little more than a spectacle.
There is no question that Jackson is a major figure in American popular music and an international icon, but I loathe the sycophantic essays that have passed for film reviews. They are a disservice to readers who would mistake the reviewers’ hackneyed attempts to be cultural historians for rave reviews of what is in actuality a middling documentary.
As a result of all the hype, ticket pre-sales and the run on sequined gloves at Ricky’s, everyone’s expecting Jacko to do boffo numbers, shattering the Dark Knight‘s opening weekend record of $155 million. But when the lights come up, I just wonder how many of those This Is It viewers will look over at their friend and ask “is that it?”