Michael Jackson movie christens a new star in Jaafar Jackson – Review

• The long-delayed new Michael Jackson movie arrives in theaters Friday, April 24.
• 'Michael' stars the music icon's lookalike nephew Jaafar Jackson.
• The film is packed with all the familiar hits and also stars Colman Domingo and Nia Long as parents Joe Jackson and Katherine Jackson.

Michael Jackson is heard before he is seen, a fitting opening to a film dedicated to spotlighting his musical genius.

The adrenalized shuffle of “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin' ” backdrops the slow walk of familiar black shoes and slouchy white socks, the camera panning up to square behind the shoulders of a dark military-style jacket and slight ponytail.

This is Jackson in his element as he prepares to take the stage. An icon. An inimitable tsunami of movement and voice. A once-in-several-generations visionary.

Though the long-awaited “Michael” (★★★ out of four; rated PG-13; in theaters April 24) suffers the same biopic-itis as recent peers (see: films about Whitney Houston, Elvis Presley, Amy Winehouse and the most egregious offender, Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”) as it lurches through time periods, it also succeeds where it should. It reminds the generations who witnessed Jackson’s ascension in real time of the extent of his singularity and educates younger audiences about the magnitude of his talent and scope.

The two actors who portray Jackson − Juliano Valdi as the budding Jackson 5 prodigy and Jaafar Jackson as the adult struggling to liberate himself from his father and achieve lofty ambitions – are marvels.

Valdi’s version is a pint-sized pack of charm and preternatural vocal ability, dazzling Motown honcho Berry Gordy (Larenz Tate) with a soaring take on Smokey Robinson’s "Who's Lovin' You" and dancing in lockstep with his brothers through “I Want You Back” and “The Love You Save.”

Jaafar Jackson steps in as young adult Michael, meeting with a not-seen-enough Quincy Jones (Kendrick Sampson) to pursue a solo career.

It’s easy to attribute Jaafar’s embodiment of Michael to DNA, considering he’s the son of Jermaine Jackson.

Jaafar may share his late uncle’s megawatt smile, lithe frame and Bambi eyelashes. But his liquid dance moves – highlighted as he teaches gang members the footwork in the “Beat It” video − and soft-spoken cadence are studied to perfection. This is not about nepotism.

Director Antoine Fuqua (“The Equalizer,” “Emancipation”) has a slate of music videos on his resume (Toni Braxton, Usher, Stevie Wonder) and his camera work here during Jackson’s moonwalk debut at 1983’s Motown 25^th anniversary concert and an almost eerily re-created “Thriller” video captures every angle of Jaafar’s exquisite moves.

But there is no story about the Jacksons without the dictatorial family patriarch, Joseph Jackson (a broadly painted Colman Domingo, not given much to do except glare and stamp his feet).

Joseph’s stranglehold on Michael’s psyche goes beyond the belt whippings and insults (“big nose”) of childhood, following Jackson through signing record contracts (the jittery young Jackson begs the label suits to inform Joseph of his solo career aspirations) and the life-threatening mishap during a 1984 Pepsi commercial shoot when Jackson’s hair caught fire from onstage pyro.

Jackson suffered third-degree burns to his scalp, but while his head is practically still smoldering, Joseph asks the doctor when his cash cow can perform again.

It seems the only people with genuine concern for Michael are his mother, Katherine (a steely and sympathetic Nia Long), and his bodyguard, Bill Bray (KeiLyn Durrel Jones), who acts as Jackson’s protector in every way.

Scenes of Jackson visiting children in the burn unit and directing manager John Branca (Miles Teller) to give the proceeds from an inevitable Pepsi lawsuit to the burn center are meant to depict Jackson’s magnanimity, as well as his concern for kids.     

“Michael” makes clear that Jackson’s arrested development began in childhood, when he reads “Peter Pan” by flashlight under the covers in the family’s home in Gary, Indiana. Later, he populates the family compound in Encino, California, with animals he views as friends, not pets. Too bad the blatant CGI versions of a llama, giraffe, python and yes, Bubbles the chimp are so cringeworthy that you forget to have empathy for Jackson, the lonely man-boy.

With the living Jackson siblings – minus Janet and Rebbie, both of whom are nonexistent in the film – sharing executive producer credits, there is an expectation of sanitization.

So no, this is not the film that delves into the child sex abuse allegations Jackson fought from 1993 until his untimely death in 2009 (and still now). The release of “Michael” was postponed twice, reportedly in part amid legal disputes with one of Jackson’s accusers. The cast reassembled last summer for three weeks of filming to augment the third act of “Michael”; producers say they have enough material for a Jackson sequel that tackles the accusations.

As the film snaps to a close, a closing message appears on-screen: “His Story Continues,” also a nod to Jackson’s 1995 hits collection, “HIStory.”

Maybe that story will be told. Or maybe it will be deemed too risky to dramatize.

Regardless, “Michael” illuminates a moment in time that should be celebrated.