There are many things "This Is It" - director Kenny Ortega's often mesmerizing portrait of Michael Jackson's final months as a performer - is not. It isn't a concert film. Nor is it a glossy documentary. It most likely isn't even a film the mega-talented and equally troubled star would have wanted his devoted fans to see.
This feature-length distillation of over 100 hours of rehearsal and behind the scenes footage begins with heartfelt testimonials from a young troupe of dancers. They've endured countless rounds of auditions to land the coveted eleven spots on the edge of the King of Pop's spotlight. Brimming with optimism at the prospect of the journey on which they are about to embark, they have no inkling that the 50 concert stint at London's O2 Arena, launching in July 2009, will never come to pass.
Despite these early "A Chorus Line" echoes, it soon becomes a one-man show. Supported by the troupe of dancers half his age, his seasoned band of backing musicians, and a devoted production crew, Jackson attacks the stage, revisiting the many peaks - and a few valleys - of his career. It's pure cinematic magic to watch as he rediscovers the swagger of "The Way You Make Me Feel", gets lost in the sinuous dance movements of "Billie Jean", leads the "West Side Story"-styled chorus line of "Beat It", and finds new emotional shadings in "Human Nature". Triumphal hollers are followed by equally dramatic silences and it's all good stuff. There is pain as well, as he struggles with the lyrics during a medley of songs he made popular with his brothers as a child (this is later blamed on malfunctioning ear monitors).
What's most riveting about this up-close view of Michael Jackson, the performer (as opposed to the subject of endless 24-hour news network chatter) is the pure rawness which supplants the slickness and sequins to which we have become accustomed. "This Is It" reveals a singer and dancer stretching, clawing, and not always succeeding to attain new heights. It's a portrait of the artist as an older man, re-discovering his catalogue of songs and re-acclimating his body to movements last executed a decade earlier. He's at times lithe and ageless, at others more delicate and fragile, holding back for the big moment that will never come. No doubt the ugliest sequences have been left on the cutting room floor, but for that the filmmakers can be forgiven.
The 3D multi-media extravaganza on the banks of the Thames was not to be, and there's no doubt it would have been a hell of a show. What we're left with is equally memorable, though: an up-close glimpse of a performer rediscovering his creative fire. Along the way we learn a valuable lesson as well. Life isn't always about the end result; sometimes it's all in the journey.
