Review: MJ The Musical an entertaining spectacle, but glosses over Jackson’s controversies

If you’re looking for answers to tough questions from Broadway Across Canada’s presentation of MJ The Musical, get in line. But if you’re hoping for a night of simply electric music and dance featuring the embodiment of Michael Jackson, alongside spectacular theatrical effects and skillful storytelling, there’s a seat for you until Nov. 16 at the Northern Alberta Jubilee Auditorium.

The Tony-award winning show —two-and-a-half hours of tightly-paced drama and exceptional choreography — opens in 1992 as MJ (Jordan Markus) prepares for the gruelling international tour titled Dangerous. Perhaps his most ambitious outing, the real-life tour is plagued by cost-overruns, last-minute creative changes and high-stakes technical demands. At the same time, a pesky fictional documentarian named Rachel (Kristin Stokes) is in the rehearsal hall, determined to get inside the popstar’s head. Jackson wants to keep the focus on the music.

“Is it really possible to separate your life from the music?” asks Rachel.

Critics have chastized the book by two-time Pulitzer Prize winner Lynn Nottage for not delving into the thorny question under Rachel’s softball delivery. What is the truth behind multiple allegations of sexual abuse of children that dogged Jackson well before his death in 2009, and have plagued his estate ever since?

MJ The Musical glides away from the issue while seeming to stand still. “There are a lot of strange stories making the rounds,” Rachel suggests. Is she referring to ill-advised cosmetic treatments, a relationship with a chimpanzee, hyperbaric chamber experiments, or pedophilia? The production is silent on the latter.

That’s not to say MJ The Musical ignores Jackson’s well-publicized mental health woes, including debilitating perfectionism and drug addiction. But it doesn’t examine the wide-ranging impact those demons may have had on others. Nottage tries to put the issue to rest by placing blame for Jackson’s destructive dysfunction at the feet of his abusive father, Joseph (Devin Bowles, who also plays Jackson’s beleaguered tour director) — conveniently dead. This is not surprising in a production created with the permission of his estate, which is also on board for a new Jackson biopic coming in spring 2026.

That said, opening night fans seemed willing to overlook holes in this family-friendly production, perhaps because it celebrates not only Jackson’s immense talent but also his contributions to charity, the musical world, and the lives of black musicians. It also provides a way for audience members to imagine what it would have been like to be in Jackson’s physical presence.

Talk about a thriller. The audience rippled with excitement when Markus burst onto the stage at the beginning of the show with Beat It, and showed its appreciation through numerous scenes featuring beloved hits from Smooth Criminal to Billy Jean. A self-taught dancer before taking on MJ’s role in the touring show, which launched two years and 65 stages ago, Markus embraces the loose-limbed yet kinetically exacting physical style of the late performer. He also nails Jackson’s voice and his tics — his yelps and hoots, the way he tore his shirt from his shoulder — that made him so mesmerizing.

If you were lucky enough, back in the day, to see Jackson perform at an enormous stadium, know that closer is better. Choreography by Christopher Wheeldon, who also directs, is acrobatic and arresting, giving centre stage fully over to Markus and the other ripped and roaring members of the dance team. You won’t know where to look, but you’ll be hypnotized nonetheless.

The story offers dozens of tunes by Jackson (and some of his musical influences). It also features a far more robust arc than the skeletal structure so common in jukebox musicals. Nottage seamlessly combines three different stages of Jackson’s life — including his emergence as a boy wonder (Bryce A. Holmes played Little Michael on opening night) and his development as a young man eager to make his own way (strong turn by Brandon Lee Harris). Sometimes the different Michaels watch each other, suggesting an evolution that is both instructive and distressing.

We see how Jackson’s past has led him to hold other performers to the same sky-high standard he expects from himself. Even with his breathy delivery — a near-whisper that belies his determination — the message is clear. “You’re late,” he says to a dancer who hasn’t landed a move. Just as Jackson’s own father bullied his children into rehearsing long after exhaustion had set in, Jackson forces his singers and dancers to repeat the pattern.

Nottage also includes a rich backstory in her tale. We see Jackson as a young man working with Quincy Jones (they met on the set of The Wiz), who taught Jackson to let the song lead the voice and the body. But Jones wasn’t the singer’s only muse; the second act opens with a graceful tribute to Fred Astaire (who inspired Jackson’s elastic relationship with his toes) and Bob Fosse (seen in Jackson’s fedora and his signature gaze). Another highlight of the second act is the way Nottage frames Jackson’s devotion to impossible feats. It adds another dimension to his story, no easy feat considering the star spent much of his life under 24/7 media scrutiny.

MJ the Musical works best as a celebration of his music and movement, and in that way, it is sharply impressive and gut-level exciting. The lighting (Natasha Katz) and costumes (Paul Tazewell), as well as three-dimensional projections (Peter Nigrini), are stunning and emphasize the genius that was Jackson. You may not see the whole man in the mirror, but you are free to reflect, in your own time and in your own way, on what it means to be an unparalleled pop star with a troubled and difficult past.