Review: MJ Explores an Enigma at Benedum Center

What do you think of when you think of Michael Jackson? Everyone will give you a different answer: a legendary performer; an obsessive genius; a dirty joke; a schoolyard chant; an easy caricature and impersonation; a grisly and disturbing true-crime story; a tragedy of abuse and medical malpractice. The legend of Michael Jackson carries almost as many multitudes as the man himself did, and when MJ premiered, many people said some variation on "too soon" or "poor taste." But you don't get legendary Pulitzer-winning palywright Llynn Nottage if you want a fun-times puff piece that will gloss over the darkness at the heart of the Michael Jackson story. Nottage's MJ, as directed and choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon, is a sometimes fun, sometimes unsettling journey into the tortured mind of the pop legend at the literal moment of his downfall.

It's 1992, and MTV journalist Rachel (Cecilia Petrush) has been sent to cover LA's hottest story. Michael Jackson has just ditched the hat, the jackets and Quincy Jones, to reinvent himself as the white-blouse-wearing, more R&B incarnation MJ (Jamaal Fields-Green). MJ is planning the tour to end all tours in promotion of his album "Dangerous," and the sky is the limit for him. Though his well-meaning but grounded tour director Rob (Devin Bowles) consistently tries to talk MJ out of his flights of fancy, MJ is set on his every conceit being realized onstage, from a brand new opening number every time he gets a moment of inspiration, to the now-famous "toaster lift." MJ is brilliant, but he's also obsessive, passive-aggressive, and hemorrhaging money fast, not to mention becoming increasingly addicted to opioids. And then there's the matter of "those allegations," which are never addressed head-on, but are intentionally kept vague, shadowy and unsettling as the elephant in the room seemingly moments from rearing its head. As Rachel documents Michael's tour prep, she also inadvertently documents his downward spiral; MJ begins to alternately reminisce, daydream and hallucinate, and the walls between his present day and his traumatic memories of life as a child star (first Josiah Benson, then Erik Hamilton) begin to overlap. Rob the director and the infamous stage-papa Joseph Jackson (also played by Devin Bowles) bleed together into one deeply unsettling bogeyman for MJ, forcing him to confront his past, his future and himself.

Does all this sound heavy for a fun jukebox musical? It is, and make no mistake. This is no biographical fluff like Summer or Beautiful, and no explosion of joy like Rock of Ages or & Juliet. This show has its moments of fun and excitement, and is certainly not what you'd call grim or dour, but it is unrelenting and grueling in its exploration of MJ's past and psyche. (I saw a commentator online who said that "MJ is the black All That Jazz," and they weren't wrong: the influence of Bob Fosse's surrealist bio-musical is STRONG in this show.) From the nervy energy of MJ's attempts to rewrite his show on the fly, channeling MJ's famous ability to break down a groove and a musical arrangement piece by piece by scatting and beatboxing it, to his increasingly unsettling hallucinatory visions of his father and therest of his family, the show accumulates momentum like a runaway train. Even though it ends before Jackson's life can genuinely fall apart, with his last blaze of glory on the "Dangerous" tour closing his imperial period, the implication is still there: life is catching up to Michael Jackson, whether he wants it or not.

Jamaal Fields-Green has one of the hardest jobs in musical theatre playing MJ, and he acquits himself wonderfully. When he sings and dances, we see the King of Pop himself in all his glory; when he acts, he paints MJ with so many layers of behavior, both authentic and performative, that the fictionalized MJ is almost as much of a cipher as the real one was. Fields-Green has found a way, via Nottage's libretto, to sink his MJ dead center in the world of takes on the man: what you see in him, is likely what you believe to be true about him. If you want to believe Michael Jackson was a wholesome, simple soul who was crucified falsely by a vicious press, you can find that interpretation here. If you want to see him instead as a master manipulator, a deeply unwell man who could conceivably wheedle his way into the lives of susceptible families to prey on their kids, you can find shades of that here too. It's a master class in playing a purposely unknowable character, while still making you feel like you know him.

The cast around Michael primarily plays dual roles, except for Cecilia Petrush as Rachel. It's worth noting that Petrush is a Pittsburgh native, and she is doing her hometown proud in the subtle, unshowy role of Rachel. Petrush is tasked with being both the observer and the grounding agent in the chaos of MJ's rehearsal room and downward spiral. (A lesser show would have insinuated a romance or at least mutual attraction between these characters, but Nottage evades this and gives them a thoroughly platonic meet-cute, while hinting at Jackson's sexual ambiguity and sexphobic avoidant traits.) Petrush's Rachel becomes an object not of physical or romantic desire, but almost religious, serving as Jackson's confessor when the need for a sympathetic ear becomes too great. Her energy is firm but gentle, calming and grounded against MJ's nerviness. In what I can only assume is a coincidence, Petrush also looks and sounds uncannily like a young Britney Spears, who famously performed alongside Michael Jackson during her first heyday. (Jon M. Chu, are you listening? I've got your leading lady for The Woman in Me RIGHT HERE!)

All the supporting cast members shine in their dual roles large and small, particularly Anastasia Talley as MJ's maternal female vocal soloist and the mother of his younger self. But if there's one performance that MUST be discussed, it is Devin Bowles as Rob and Joseph Jackson. Rob the director isn't a bad guy. If anything, he's often a voice of reason, trying to gentle-parent the passive-aggressive and mercurial superstar into compromising on relatively absurd requests like jetpacks. But to Michael, who hates to be told "no" in any capacity, this feels like opposition, not assistance. Soon, Michael can hardly tell Rob and Daddy Dearest apart, and Bowles shifts between the two personas quicker and quicker, often without a costume or lighting change by the second act. Midsentence, his posture changes and his voice shifts from LA smoothness to a growling black Midwestern drawl. You don't see a performance this deep and dark in most jukebox musicals, and Bowles is magnetic and terrifying as the abusive Joseph, then suddenly gentle and reasonable as Rob. (There is a fantastic sequence in Act 2 where the two roles bleed together so much they are inextricable from each other, and Jackson confronts both simultaneously.) Bowles is so good in this track that I'd gladly recommend the show even if it were called Joseph instead of MJ.

There aren't many jukebox musicals as daring, inventive and theatrically vibrant as this. I'll even go a step further: there aren't many musicals PERIOD that are willing to play with form and expectations, making and breaking the rules, as much as this one. As I said before, you don't get Lynn Nottage onboard if you want to just do a nostalgic cash grab. I watched the audience through the opening night performance: did they know what they'd signed up for? Were they willing to take the trip, or were they expecting something where they could dance in the aisles? To their great delight, and to mine, they got both: the heart of darkness, and the music that makes it all momentarily better again. 

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