This Is It

First things first: This is no opportunistic tribute flick thrown together to leach off the tragedy. (In case you were wondering.) We all know the king of pop was set to launch quite a road show before his untimely death. But amidst the windfall of retrospectives and controversies that followed Michael Jackson’s departure, we may have forgotten to wonder just what he had planned. And chances are we never gave a thought to the family of artists with whom he was collaborating.

Luckily, cameras rolled as Jackson prepared what was to be his final tour, catching rehearsal footage never intended for public viewing. The resulting film therefore focuses on the creative process, with any hype left on the cutting room floor – or never shot in the first place. Think Madonna’s Truth or Dare without the Warren Beatty subplot. Jackson never speaks to camera, and we never “catch” him in repose, say, at the hotel or, heaven forbid, with his kids. There’s nothing biographical to ogle at here; the man’s at work.

In a series of chapters, This Is It takes us through the rehearsal process of each musical number, seemingly in the concert’s intended running order. We go inside the studio with the musicians, on the film set where a crew shoots green-screen footage of dancers, and on stage as Jackson and his director, Kenny Ortega, tighten up transitions. Nearly every scene culminates in a “goose bump moment,” where the filmmakers wisely allow Jackson and his crew to perform a song uninterrupted. There’s often beautiful intercutting between various rehearsal tapes and the video projections concertgoers would have seen during the performance.

The most interesting moments come when Jackson himself gives notes, almost always followed by the words “with the love.” Jackson’s direction almost always involves his veteran sense of timing. “Let it simmer,” he advises his musical director. “Take your moment to shine,” he tells his young, female guitarist. When Kenny Ortega respectfully reminds Jackson of a cue, he responds that it comes too fast; he needs a moment of silence. “How will you know when the screen [behind you] changes?” asks Ortega. Jackson considers this and responds with a matter-of-fact “I’ll have to feel it.”

It would be wrong to say there’s no “love letter” element in the film (I mean, come on). Even in his most frustrated moment, an issue with his in-ear monitors, Jackson comes off as humble and professional. And yes, crew interviews offer glowing, sometimes tearful praise. But such sound bytes feel refreshingly genuine in the mouths of Jackson’s current collaborators, as opposed to TV pundits or celebrity friends. And the film goes easy on the gushing, using commentary as narrative glue between onstage moments that speak for themselves.

Though the show in progress will never be, This Is It offers some takeaway for the next generation. Jackson’s handpicked, hardworking artists have now been introduced to the world, and if anyone deserves attention for their affiliation with the pop legend, it’s them.