For over four decades, Michael Jackson’s unmistakable falsetto, mesmerizing dance skills, and sheer magnetic power have made him one of history’s most successful and distinctive performers. The King of Pop’s influence remains undiminished by his sudden death in June 2009. This Is It, the new and limited release movie tracing the development of the London concerts that would have been Michael Jackson’s return to the stage, offers a glimpse into the mind behind that creative and performing genius. The structure is simple—a short text introduction, followed by professionally shot footage of various numbers being developed and rehearsed between March and June of 2009. Originally intended for Michael’s personal library and a behind-the-scenes segment once the full concert had been filmed, this footage is interlaced with short interviews with his dancers, singers, musicians, and production team members. From what we see, the London concerts would have been both a performance and multimedia marvel. 

The film endeavors to both show us the rehearsal process and at the same time, give us a taste of what the concert was meant to be. Numbers are sometimes shown in split screen so that we can see how it looked on different days. We catch a glimpse of how the show would have opened with pyrotechnics, mosaics of video clips, and a “Light Man” that would have broken away to reveal the performer. Ten new movies had been incorporated into the concert, including placing Jackson into Bogart and Hayworth films via green screen for “Smooth Criminal” and a new 3-D version “Thriller”. We see Jackson on a cherry picker over the audience preparing for “Beat It.” Dancers are popped out of trap doors like pieces of toast in “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’,” or duplicated by the hundreds on green screen to create a breathtaking army in “They Don’t Really Care About Us.” Old familiar choreography is combined with new fresh looks and dancers, but the jackets, white socks, and electric presence remain the same. 

This Is It is neither a slavish pandering to the myth nor a hatchet job. It is a simple, raw, private look at a complex man in the throes of the artistic process. We see Michael involved in every aspect, selecting dancers, working with musicians to develop arrangements and cues, huddling with producers behind monitors developing green screen shots for the new “Thriller,” and teaching his dancers last minute adjustments between takes. We see him perfecting his own cues, attempting but failing to not sing full out, laughing with his creative partners. Most of all, we see him dancing. His performance is for an audience consisting only of a handful of dancers and technicians, and yet Michael holds nothing back; not surprisingly, the numbers shine. 

As his fellow choreographer Travis Payne tells the dancers, everything in Michael’s world is “bigger, more intense.” Like many numbers, “Smooth Criminal” has a theatrical feel in storyline, backup vocals, and the Fosse-esque choreography. One can’t help but see Fosse in much of Jackson’s work, from the hand out, hat holding poses of “Billie Jean,” to “The Way You Make Me Feel” with the dancers’ languid poses, their finger snaps, sharp pose and level changes, and asymmetrical groupings, to his frequent gestural impovisation, wrist flexion, and slight hunching. “Just Can’t Stop Loving You” shows Michael in a love duet, revealing a sweetly playful side even as he expects his partner to adapt to his movement. And while we often see Michael’s sharp, precision movement, This Is It showcases his fluid, graceful side as well, in songs such as “Human Nature,” “Earth Song,” and “Man in the Mirror.” His voice remains clear and strong throughout, the live band and vocalists follow him beautifully, and the dancers—raw, powerful, and athletic—help tell the stories he wants to tell. 

As for Jackson, his body may appear slightly frail over the years, but when he moves, he exudes sheer power. As a dancer myself, I found this far more interesting than seeing the final concert. This Is It presents an intimate portrait of an artist at work. In this environment, relatively free of the baggage of reputation, Jackson is free to simply create. For all his superstar status, he moves in a fearlessly personal and intimate way. This will come as no surprise to most dancers and other performers; nothing is more personal than how you move and sing. The hours spent each day rehearsing are a great equalizer. Everybody sweats, everybody gets tired and sore, everybody has to know their cues and be where they need to be when they need to be there. Like most dancers, Michael is a perfectionist; he drives himself just as hard as the tough young dancers around him and doesn’t just keep up but outshines them…while singing. 

While Jackson often quotes everyone from Gene Kelly, Fosse, and James Brown to traditional jazz, Motown, and African dance in his movement, he also incorporates elements from hip-hop, rap, funk, and break dancing. With a bit of modern dance thrown in. But above it all, he retains his own unique style—the spins, the toe balances, the lighting-speed precision gestures and footwork, the leg kicks, the arms flung wide, the hip thrusts. While the younger backup dancers may have the exuberant atheticism reminiscent of Jackson ten to twenty years ago, he is still clearly their leader. He moves with a clean, precise elegance, true power grounded in and refined with experience and control. He embodies the music, not just when performing but also when working with the musicians. He tries to explain what he wants musically by showing it to them physically. He guides the musicians, cuing them with his choreography. A singer who understands dance like this is rare—movement, emotion, and music seem to be all the same for him. 

Athough This Is It may be more about the artist, the intimate look at the rehearsals reveal something about the man. Long rehearsals can be draining and aggravating, and tempers can flare. Yet while very clear about what he wants musically or technically, Michael is calm, polite, and supportive. Even when struggling with a mix not being right or frustrated by an orchestration being off, he follows with “l-o-v-e love” or “god bless you” or my favorite, “that’s why we have rehearsal,” as if always wanting everyone to know he respects them. He makes sure classes and continued training are available for his dancers (it’s worth the price of admission to see a Russian ballet mistress and five male dancers deconstructing the notorious crotch grab move). Like any performer, he messes up lines occasionally, and gets goofy and giggly. It’s surprisingly heartwarming to see him laugh. We occasionally see Michael smile slow, almost private smiles. In those moments, he radiates life, happiness, joy, at peace inside his own art and skin. He encourages his performing family to believe and have faith, to bring love, to expect an adventure. It is all the more poignant for knowing how that adventure will be derailed. 

The night I saw This Is It, I was distracted by motion a few rows down and noticed an African-American boy about five years old. Mesmerized by the screen, he was dancing, mimicking Michael’s every move, and doing it rather well, spins included. In 1992, Michael Jackson wrote in Dancing the Dream, “ ‘Oh, no,’ a voice in my head says. ‘A star can never die. It just turns into a smile and melts back into the cosmic music, the dance of life.” His smile lingers on the screen, and another little boy, staring at it, begins to dance.