Apathy has consumed the world. For many, particularly professional artists in powerful positions, the 2020s and second Trump administration moved them to do little more than shrug their shoulders at societal ills. Why not perform for the Saudi Royal Family? Why not embrace generative A.I. technology? What’s the point of standing against a genocide? Evidently, that apathy bug bit producer Graham King. How else to explain his Initial Entertainment Group/GK Films producing Michael, a soft-pedal look at the first 20 years of the life of the King of Pop, after years of concentrating on adult dramas from the likes of Lasse Hallström, Rebecca Miller, Steven Soderbergh, and Martin Scorsese? Well, apathy and a likely accomplice. Capitalism.

Just look at Bohemian Rhapsody, his last theatrically-released production. Various entities spent over a decade trying to get a Freddie Mercury/Queen film to the silver screen. This milquetoast take on the frontman, which shaved off all his rough edges and whited out anything approaching controversy, was the vehicle that did it. And then it cruised to 900+ million worldwide. When apathy meets that kind of capitalistic triumph, questions like, “Should we fund original works introducing new characters, stories, and ideas?” tend to answer themselves.

Olympus Has Fallen auteur Antoine Fuqua and They/Them screenwriter John Logan begin with MJ (Jaafar Jackson) preparing for a late-80s concert. As he approaches the stage and roaring crowd, we enter “Michael Jackson has to think about his entire life before he plays” territory. The camera cuts to late-60s Gary, Indiana. Adolescent Michael (Juliano Krue Valdi) and his brothers train for fame under abusive father Joe Jackson (Colman Domingo). These scenes immediately establish a “tell, don’t show” mentality in Logan’s writing that will plague the entire film.

From here, Michael rushes through the Jacksons’ ascension to pop dominance crooning hit tunes like “ABC.” In what feels like a blink, the story jumps to 1978 and a grown-up, soft-spoken Michael. Despite Joe’s overwhelming toxic presence, MJ still dreams of a solo career and becoming the biggest pop star in the world. That tension forces the film into a recursive loop, largely alternating between scenes of generic domestic drama and limp concert reenactments.

Logan’s screenplay rapidly careens through so much of MJ’s life that it leaves many supposedly critical people vaguely defined at best. His siblings stand out as an especially glaring example. They feel near interchangeable, none boasting even the semblance of a distinctive personality. They feel as important as Bubbles, Michael’s infamous primate companion, and that chimp only shows up in two scenes. Most of the supporting cast turns in forgettable work, including Miles Teller sleepwalking through a supporting turn as lawyer John Branca. Only Domingo deserves props. He manages an intimidating aura even with laughably distracting prosthetics slathered over his face.

Throughout Michael’s runtime, everyone from audio engineers to agents to reporters wax poetic about the singer’s immense talent and “iconic” nature. No matter the actor’s talent, the verbiage comes out feeling like a hustle. They aren’t sharing their opinion, they’re trying to sell you something. The best musician biopics—movies like Rocketman, Elvis, and Better Man—never forget their subjects are mortal. Fuqua and Logan, on the other hand, rely on these hype people and surface-level “eccentricities” (fixations on toy stores, wild animals, and helping anyone in need) to define their central figure. That reduces this MJ to a billboard hawking a notion of this entertainer. Perhaps it’s all in the name of reducing Michael and his siblings to similarly limited depths.

Jaafar Jackson’s pastiche-y performance isn’t without its positives. He shows off an impressive physicality—albeit one frequently blunted by outside constraints—in his feature debut. When facing off against Domingo, the actor reasonably holds his own. He capably recalls pop culture of yesteryear, even as audiences may crave more than mimicked dance moves and “hee hee” exclamations. In fairness, these shortcomings are less on him and more emblematic of Michael’s devotion to the past.

Even as an exercise in jukebox fan service, Michael is a dud. Fuqua and cinematographer Dion Beebe keep this production devoid of specificity with little visual imagination or energy. If you like the “Thriller” music video, prepare to watch it recreated with worse lighting and digital camerawork. The concert setpieces are so low-energy that they grind the film to a halt. Beloved tracks offer little respite as Valdi and Jackson lip-sync to little more than the default radio audio. It’s a bitter irony that Jackson, with a career marked by vocal dexterity, incredibly energetic physical performances, and game-changing music videos, ends up with such a blandly static biopic.

There’s only one sequence that gets anywhere near to Rocketman’s “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting” or Better Man’s “Rock DJ” in terms of propulsive creativity. In a rare moment of giving Jaafar Jackson’s fine lead performance the space it deserves, we find MJ alone in his recording studio. The singer spouts off noises and taps his pencil while conjuring up lyrics to what will become “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’”. It’s a gaze into the process of a generational talent that feels deeply idiosyncratic. John Ottman and Harry Yoon’s editing finally comes alive with rapid cuts from Jackson’s lips to his eyes to notecards full of scribbled lyrics to the recording studio’s various nooks and crannies, furthering the effect. It’s over too soon, but it’s the sequence that offers up something beyond hagiography and shrug-worthy reenactment.

Eight years after Bohemian Rhapsody, King’s apathetic music biopic “magic” has truly returned. Staying home, hiring a Michael Jackson impersonator, and blaring your Jackson albums will provide a superior and more distinctive experience. Perhaps audiences can’t cure the producer’s apathy, but staying away from Michael may shake his capitalist heart some.

Michael moonwalks into theaters everywhere starting April 24.

Michael Trailer: