Michael Jackson: RIP
By Andrew P Street
On Thursday 25 June 2009, Michael Jackson died of a suspected heart attack. His death completes the perfect dramatic story arc:
childhood success mixed with childhood abuse; escape from the
tyrannical rule of his father; incredible, unprecedented commercial
success; long dark night of the soul filled with accusations and court
appearances; critical reappraisal followed by last-chance opportunity
for redemption - one that was snatched away from him at the last minute.
No chance of a series of lacklustre gigs destroying the picture of the
moonwalking man-child. No chance of (another) disappointing album to
tarnish the legacy of Thriller and Bad.
Barely hours later you can all but hear the clatter of keys as scribes all over LA bash out the penultimate scene of their Michael Jackson biopics:
KIND HEARTED MANAGER TOHME E TOHME (Dustin Hoffman): But Michael, listen to me! You're 50 – you can't possibly play a series of sold-out shows at London's magnificent O2 Arena at your age! Your heart, Michael! Think of your heart!
MICHAEL JACKSON (Justin Timberlake): My heart's been strong enough to keep me going until now – and music is what gives it that strength. I'm doing this – for the music.
[MICHAEL spins around and walks out of the room. MANAGER slumps to his chair, head in hands]
KIND HEARTED MANAGER TOHME E TOHME: But the doctors… they said… Oh, don't do this… Michael, Michael… I… I love you…
JANET JACKSON VOICE OVER (Beyoncé): He did it for the music, but it was the music that finally broke his heart – and in so doing, broke ours.
It's going to be a challenge for Timberlake, of course – not only was Jackson preternaturally talented, but was also a man who had barely anything resembling a private life. Even his attempts at privacy – masks, disguises, walled compounds filled with exotic pets and funfair rides – were done is a flamboyantly attention-seeking manner. He might have revelled in his role as the Peter Pan who never grew up (and was at one time supposedly keen to star in a film adaptation of the book), but as time went on that refusal to grow up got stranger and stranger.
So, in a way, everyone will win from Jackson's death. Sony will reap the rewards of the renewed interest in his (still magnificent) music. Jackson's ex-wives, overnight guests, former staff and many, many creditors will take the opportunity to cash in by revealing The Real Michael Jackson in ghostwritten paperbacks and breathless tabloid stories. The rest of the family will benefit by the inevitable tributes (will Janet be able to restart her moribund musical career with a touching Thriller remake, with all money going to one of Michael's beloved children's charities?) and Jackson's three children might have an outside chance at a relatively normal life. The only person who loses out in all this is Michael himself, and he arguably stopped being a real person decades ago.
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