MJ the Musical Broadway Reviews

In this, 'MJ' is trying to have it both ways. It wants to blame everything sad and weird about Jackson on others (especially the press, who are equated with the zombies in 'Thriller') but credit him alone for his every good deed and success. Acknowledgment of the choreographers and songwriters he collaborated with is mostly saved for the program. This defensiveness, constantly asserting his genius as if it were in question, eventually becomes dulling, like any act of bad faith. And so as the show, anticipating its star's trajectory, disintegrates in the second half, the pleasure that compensated for its inherent ickiness can no longer do the job. 'MJ' becomes a grind of obfuscation, a case of willfully not looking at the man in the mirror.

The demons that Jackson battles in 'MJ,' his father and the media, are figured as monstrous. But if there was darkness behind the angelic falsetto, a mix of light and shadow that made Michael Jackson a singular artist, 'MJ' enacts a sleight of hand, insisting it didn't belong to him. It's a renouncement worthy enough of a smooth criminal.

COVID means a lack of tourists, short-term. But the show has all kinds of artistic beauties to offer the artist's global fans. Thanks in no small part to the gorgeous palate created by Derek McLane, Natasha Katz, Paul Tazewell and Peter Nigrini, the show is genuinely beautiful to experience throughout, which one almost never can say about jukebox musicals. Aside from a few clanging scenes, it's a gorgeously executed celebration of a pained subject's artistry.

There is nothing surprising in the show, which opens tonight on Broadway. This is a slickly corporate, officially sanctioned slice of legacy clean-up. Two and a half hours of glittery hagiography. If you expect a musical that examines Jackson's life, controversies, and legacy, forget it. If you want to see anything which even mildly challenges the deification of Jackson, or interrogates his celebrity and actions with depth and nuance, this is not the show for you.

'MJ' is a jukebox musical that is nothing but the late King of Pop's greatest hits. Would Jackson himself approve of such a sentimental journey? More to the point is that his estate has approved it. And that is only one of the minor offenses on display in 'MJ,' which opened Tuesday at Broadway's Neil Simon Theatre.

MJ, like its subject, is captivating and hard to shake. The musical takes audiences through Jackson's life and catalog with impressive ease, expertly chronicling major milestones. After breaking up with Motown records, Michael goes to Epic, where he works with Quincy Jones to produce Off the Wall and Thriller. His vision and work ethic become more exacting, his drive to best himself at once breathtaking and worrisome. As the narrative burrows deeper into Michael's mind, the toll his artistry took on him is clear. He wanted to bring his audiences joyful and spectacular experiences, but he felt isolated and misunderstood.

If MJ can't contain the shock of the new that turned his 1983 television performance into an era-defining moment, it is in no short supply of its own thrills, not least the reminder, after all these years of scandal and accusations, that we once observed, in real time, the blossoming of undeniable talent into unavoidable genius. That's a transition, not since equaled, that director-choreographer Christopher Wheeldon, book write Lynn Nottage and an impeccable cast led by the star-is-born Myles Frost, bring to pulse-quickening life on the stage.

When the song is done, Michael speaks with an MTV reporter (Whitney Bashor) who has landed a rare interview with him. 'With respect, I wanna keep this about my music,' he says. 'Is it really possible to separate your life from your music?' she asks, preempting a question on many minds, and his reply is a slice of 'Tabloid Junkie': 'Just because you read it in a magazine / Or see it on a TV screen, don't make it factual.' And that, more or less, is that. Expertly directed and choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon, MJ does about as well as possible within its careful brief. In and of itself, it is a well-crafted jukebox nostalgia trip. Lynn Nottage's script weaves together three dozen songs, mostly from the Jackson catalog. The music and the dancing are sensational. And isn't that, the show suggests, really the point in the end? Doesn't that beat all?

Wisely, though, MJ neither defends its subject from the most serious charges against him nor urges us to distinguish between the artist and his art. Like most jukebox fare, it's at its most winning when song and dance are in progress-and since Jackson's hits always lent themselves to theatrical presentation, and theater and film giants were among his biggest influences, Wheeldon and his company have plenty of room to fly. In one sequence, the ballet-bred choreographer and director pays cool, glistening homage to Fred Astaire, Bob Fosse and the seminal duo the Nicholas Brothers, offering a bit of historical perspective on the restless brilliance captured in other routines.

Befitting this endemic duality, the biomusical MJ, which opened tonight at the Neil Simon, arrived in New York on simultaneous waves of both anticipation and apprehension. It has most of the ingredients of a jukebox hit-great songs, iconic dances, a rags-to-riches story-plus a prodigiously talented creative team. But it is also the story of a man with real problems, a man who quite likely committed some heinous crimes-and a man whose estate controls his life story and is involved with the production. The latter fact is probably unavoidable. But it's also deeply awkward. MJ is big and loud; it is joyful and joyous. The music grooves, the dancing glides, the crowd bops. The spectacle is everything you expect. You enjoy Jackson's work, you see his genius-but you never truly grapple with him as a character, because this hagiography cannot work if it asks you to. Michael Jackson is today a credibly accused child molester, and MJ succeeds only if you can ignore that fact.

So we're made to side with Jackson - frustrating, but understandable enough. What do we learn about him? We hear of his being demanding during rehearsals, that he's 'going through a lot,' that he had a tough life, but none of this is explored or even explained in any meaningful way. We've seen troubled backstories before, heard how exacting and uncompromising A-listers can be, so if MJ: The Musical is going to wash away the sins and focus on the person, at least bring something new to the table that matches the brilliance of his artistry.

Depending on one's inclination, 'MJ' can be seen as a slick and lively tribute concert (with dancers, back-up singers, Jackson impersonators, and elaborate homage choreography), a by-the-numbers bio-jukebox musical (really not so different from all the others out there), or a defiant public relations effort to rebrand and refocus Jackson's image, reputation, and legacy.

'With respect, I wanna keep this about my music,' Michael Jackson (Myles Frost) says near the start of 'MJ The Musical.' And that's what this show, opening tonight on Broadway, certainly does: There are some three dozen songs presented in 135 minutes, with exciting choreography by director Christopher Wheeldon built on Jackson's signature moves, performed by an energetic ensemble and three different Michael Jackson impersonators - performing as the kid who started and starred in the Jackson 5; the teenager who broke out on his own with Off The Wall; and, most of the time, the King of Pop, who wowed the world with Thriller, Bad, Smooth Criminal and the moon walk

It's not a smooth musical. The troubles over at 'MJ: The Musical,' the new show about Michael Jackson that opened Tuesday night on Broadway, are much bigger than the controversy surrounding its subject - although the two are closely connected. While the lifeless script is written by Pulitzer Prize winner Lynn Nottage of 'Ruined,' the pat dialogue feels as if it was co-authored by a lawyer for the Jackson estate - one of the producers - with Wite-Out and a Sharpie.

Nottage and director and choreographer Christopher Wheeldon have one of the greatest music catalogues in the world and yet don't seem to know how to handle it. Some pivotal songs - like 'For the Love of Money' by The O'Jays - aren't by Jackson at all. And a large bulk of Jackson's songs used - including 'Earth Song,' 'Stranger in Moscow,' 'Price of Fame' and 'They Don't Care About Us' - were released after 1992. You can't have it both ways. Even so, nothing should take away from a tireless, fully-committed Myles Frost, who plays Jackson with a high, whispery voice, a Lady Diana-like coquettishness and a fierce embrace of Jackson's iconic dancing and singing style, right down to the rhythmic breathing and swiveling head. He Moonwalks insanely well.

That sordid history would not seem to have foretold a jukebox musical devoted to the upside of Jackson's genius - and certainly not by artists of the caliber of two-time Pulitzer winner Nottage ('Ruined,' 'Sweat') and the celebrated ballet world fixture Wheeldon. The show's decidedly selective memory may be off-putting to theatergoers appalled by the stories of Jackson's alleged misdeeds. Nevertheless, the creative team's painstaking work has resulted in a riveting, adrenaline rush of a show, propelled by remarkable dancing and a mesmerizing central performance by Myles Frost as the sleek, soft-spoken pop megastar.