Criticism in Journalism

Remember the sun? Yes, that little-seen shiny thing in the sky – the ancient Incas in South America worshipped it as a god. They also had a sun-king, which was this god in living-form. The ancient Greeks told the myth of a boy so beautiful he fell in love with his own reflection: well whether one believes Michael Jackson is beautiful or not, certainly, as the opening montage of his latest film, ‘Moonwalker’ tries to reveal, he is one of our own sun-kings like Ghandi and Monroe As to whether Michael is indeed in love with his own image of making-up tragedy . . .

‘Moonwalker’ is in three parts: the first traces the history of success of the star, Michael Jackson, his brilliance and his worth of worship. The second part, as several stars like Madonna and that other Michael, George, points to the tightrope these latter-day suns tread between the public and the private, what could be seen as the people’s wish to find out whether the private man is as great as his public image. The third part of ‘Moonwalker’ examines Michael’s real difference, one he played with throughout his life: the wish for transformation: Michael making-up himself.

‘Moonwalker’ part-one shows just how near Michael is that changeling of child-boy into man. Just like the film of Peter Pan he never-never made, Michael is one of the ‘eternal youth’ worshipped by the Japanese. This makes him a perfect figure for worship by youth-culture – but a figure for immortality like James Dean? Michael’s film says yes, yes, yes! In gigantic capitals – it even mentions the oxygen-tent which Michael hopes will make him live forever – but live as in a-live?

MAKE-UP

What I find deadening in all such screams worshipful of success as the first part of this movie, is the silent drudgery of despair as must have happened in the star’s life around 1979 to make him reject the proud resemblance to his kith and kin; reject the identification inspired by history’s colouring of his skin. Michael’s fans want to find out!

Without Michael’s say-so, one knows so little about the sun-king that in ‘Moonwalker’ part-two, one wonders at his torment and his outrage at why they don’t ‘Leave me alone’. He should have asked that other god Prince in their famous encounter when they sat next to each other and neither said a word.

As one follows in the path of his dehumanised and dummified fans who the film made resemble out-takes from ‘Spitting Image’, one wonders, from Michael’s obvious joy at them chasing him everywhere, whether the transformations he makes meanwhile is really to illude them, or intrigue them the more.

There to the true significance of Michael’s real fans. As I looked around the cinema showing ‘Moonwalker’, I was struck by the crowds of teenagers, of young people, of children. Here one pin-points the wrongness behind Michael’s best song on the ‘BAD’ album: ‘Man in the Mirror’: as the story in the video of the song shows quite plainly, singularly people can change the world. But one finds that what doesn’t change is their sense of purpose, which depends on their sense of one sole identity, and one image.

One of the significant discoveries or revolutions in the 20^th century is that changes in their material world, people are slow to change in themselves: when it comes to ideas and opinions, only children and the young go through any kind of drastic metamorphosis, and then only to grow-up into a kind of sameness in themselves.

Michael’s constant habit in wanting to react to changes in his life by changes in his appearance is a testament to youth – but only make-up.

In Moonwalker, Michael is making-up Michael, and as in such things, the special- effects and mood-music is lovely. Like Michael Jackson, Narcissus was fascinated by his own image. Like James Dean, he died: immortalised by eternal flower, flower eternally flowering . . .

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