A week ago Saturday, The Wife and I saw Michael, the new Michael Jackson biopic, on the big screen. After the credits rolled, and the lights came up, we both turned to each other and said, “Wow.”
The movie, Michael
If you’ve never seen a Michael Jackson performance, mere description will fall far short of reality. My first thought as the movie ended was that if Michael Jackson wasn’t the best entertainer in the last century, I don’t know who would be.
The movie ends in 1988, with Jackson at his Zenith. Wildly popular, yet sufficiently mysterious. Attractive before he became ghoulish. Charitable and magnanimous before he was infamous.
While the movie doesn’t address or explain some of the bizarre turns Michael’s life took later, it does explain two things.
The two voices
Early in the movie, when Michael is just a boy, his father calls him “big nose.” Shame, then embarrassment, registers in the boy’s eyes, and we understand why one of his first acts as an adult was rhinoplasty surgery, and why he kept having those surgeries until he had practically destroyed his nose.
Then, when he decides to do a solo album, Michael meets with some executives at CBS to discuss his options for the future. One of the people at the table is John Branca, who would become Michael Jackson’s lifelong manager. According to the movie, this was the first time Jackson met Branca.
After Michael talks about his grandiose career plans, the seasoned executives are prepared to moderate his ambition a bit. Instead, Branca tells Jackson he can be the biggest star in the world.
There is a silence, and just as one of the executives is going to apologize for what he fears has been perceived as Branca’s manipulation by flattery, Michael says he wants Branca to be his manager.
The lingering effect of both
These two scenes, juxtaposed, explain much about who Michael Jackson would become—the greatest entertainer of his generation, yet one who was deeply insecure.
We acknowledge the power of the spoken word in great speeches, half-time pep talks, or movie monologues. They inspire us, make us reach for loftier goals. But that power pales in comparison to the impact of words spoken directly to the soul of another.
Joseph Jackson’s insult about Michael’s nose was no idle barb. It deeply and permanently scarred Michael to such a degree, even surgeons who removed practically all of the alleged culprit could not remove the shame. That is the power of words.
But then there was Branca’s statement—not so much an encouragement as a validation that the soaring ambition hidden beneath Michael’s shame was rooted in reality. The validation cost Branca nothing. No money. No time. Just a few words directed to the soul of another. But it helped unlock the potential of a singular superstar.
The truth about words
It is true that “[d]eath and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21).
There is one who speaks rashly like the thrusts of a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. — Proverbs 12:18.
Think about it: Joe Jackson could have simply resisted the urge to insult his son, and maybe Michael would have avoided the many surgeries that left him disfigured and still ashamed. That restraint would have cost Joe Jackson nothing, but Michael could have avoided a lifetime of shame.
Similarly, John Branca could have offered to give Michael Jackson a million dollars, unlimited market and advertising services, and a wardrobe of black shoes, white socks, and studded gloves. Yet none of that would have impacted Michael’s future like the words of affirmation he spoke to him at the right moment.
