Film Review: Michael 米高積遜 (2026) - USA
Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critic Circle of Australia)
I rated it 7.5/10
Rating: ★ ★ ★ 1/2
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You want to know what it’s like to watch Michael Jackson spin, kick, and grab his crotch on the big screen? It’s like mainlining pure pop euphoria. Antoine Fuqua’s “Michael” has sequences—the Thriller breakdown, the Smooth Criminal lean—that are so electrically alive they remind you why concert films were invented. But then the movie does something curious. It looks away.
At the center is Jaafar Jackson, and I need to get this out of the way: he’s a revelation. Not an imitation. A channeling. When he speaks in that feathery whisper, when his feet suddenly forget gravity, you’re not watching a nephew play dress-up. You’re watching a resurrection. Colman Domingo’s Joe Jackson snarls with terrifying command, Miles Teller’s lawyer Branca provides grounded sanity, and the technical craft—the sound, the cinematography, the recreation of those legendary short films—is first-rate. For long stretches, “Michael”soars.
But here’s where the glove doesn’t fit. The film wraps its arms around the 1980s and refuses to let go. It ends before the first public child abuse allegations surface. Which means it also ends before the story becomes uncomfortable. Fuqua gives us a superhero origin—the abused prodigy, the media’s favorite target, the genius misunderstood—but flinches at the complexity. The eccentricities, the unsettling questions, the darker currents that made Jackson not just fascinating but tragic? Glossed over. Sanitized.
The result is a crowd-pleaser that delivers the greatest hits and little else. It captures the magic of the artist while sidestepping the man. A definitive biography? No. A towering tribute to the music and the showmanship? Absolutely. Sequel awaits to answers all of the above. (Neo, 2026)