Exit the Dancing Machine

Every few months, whenever stress levels would increase and desire to work would decrease, I'd go on a YouTube jag of Michael Jackson videos. Specifically his early years with the Jackson Five, when he was younger, seemingly more innocent, and still full of apparently unfettered joy about performing for an audience, even if he would be shy and awkward in interviews. I'm not entirely sure why except that watching someone so obviously a star, so in his element and, even so young, so clearly dominant a performer damn near took my breath away. Not to mention the sense of unlimited potential, realized at the end of the 70s with OFF THE WALL, rocketed into stratospheric territory with THRILLER and BAD and then, then, the decline and fall.

Tributes, analysis and critiques of Michael Jackson are already taking over the Internet. Things are only getting started what with basic questions about the state of his finances, family relationships and the real story behind the child molestation allegations requiring answers. All I really have to add to the general sense of things is that Jackson represented the ultimate American narrative, reared from an early age to work hard and produce, to support a family rife with internal tensions and jealousies and to appease the hangers-on, trapped by his penchant for excess and flaws tragic and monstrous. Dreiser might have had a field day with a character like him. But when it comes right down to it, what brings me back to MJ's classic songs, his groundbreaking videos and those breathtaking live performances is the way he moved, his total command over space, the upward slope of his arch and downturn onto the balls of his feet.

There's the Moonwalk, obviously, and the gasp of pleasure at seeing that iconic move for the first time. But go back in time and see its ancestor in "Dancing Machine", the hops and skips, the whirligig 360 turns, the straight-legged robot moves. He was younger and cockier, but still not quite in full command of his dancing prowess. But the sure way he glided across a given stage set further stages for greater flights of dancing fancy.

THRILLER showed Jackson at the peak of his dancing powers; those lengthy videos wouldn't have worked if not for the hours upon hours spent repeating, honing, zeroing in on what worked with his body and what did not. BAD wasn't that far off the mark, but watch the dance sequences in the title video (directed by Martin Scorsese and scripted by Richard Price) and already, the turns aren't quite as crisp, the movement is just off slightly. Then watch "Black or White", especially the segment where Jackson moves in and out of animal guise, and the erosion becomes clearer. Even more so with "Scream", where he's moving enough, but sister Janet is clearly the more agile one. And when Jackson replicated "Dancing Machine" at the 2001 Madison Square Garden concert, it's almost painful to watch how his body can't keep up with his muscle-memory for what he's supposed to be doing.

Time will tell what Jackson's state of mind was nearer to the end of his life, but knowing so much money was riding on him delivering the goods at a series of concerts at London's O2 Theater next month couldn't have helped. But in the deluge of stories and the inevitable and definitive biography and biopic get released, I hope the most important relationship Jackson might have had - the one with his feet - doesn't get lost in the shuffle.

Comments

[Graham Powell]

He seemed like a troubled guy, and surely lived a troubled life. I hope he's found peace now.

[Egregore]

Nicely written.

[David J. Montgomery]

He was an immensely talented and immensely troubled man. I suppose it comes as no surprise that a life burned so intensely was cut short, but it's still sad.

[moonrat]

...How did anyone (even his parents) know when he was 5 and they first put him onstage that he was going to grow up to be able to dance like that? Or did he grow up to dance like that because they put him on stage? (Chicken, egg...) I like your point re: being a "product" for his own life.

I remember a couple months ago when all those blog posts were circulating re: the auctioning off of pieces of Neverland (implying some kind of financial distress, right?). Poor Michael. I've always wondered what went on in his head.

[J.D. Rhoades]

The guy only seemed to come fully alive onstage. In front of a crowd, he was damn near superhuman.

But you can't live life onstage 24/7, and he could ever seem to adjust to life on Earth.

The poor bastard.

[Charlie Stella]

OJ was a great running back (talk about moves). Robert Blake beat his murder rap. Roman Polanski beat his rape charge, etc. We may never know if the gloved one bought his way out of child molestation charges for the $20 million check he wrote … or if there were other victims compensated “off screen” … or others who never made a peep. I guess he deserves sympathy for his cruel upbringing but I have to pull the plug on it at the point he became a pedophile (I assume he was as guilty as OJ, Blake, et al). We’re supposed to feel for HIS suffering? I don’t think so.

I would’ve rather seen him face justice than perform another comeback tour (never mind die), but all this hoopla and coverage is sad commentary on American (maybe worldwide) culture. At least coverage of Paris Hilton and Ms. Spears doesn’t interrupt what passes for a 24 hour “news cycle”. (sarcasm intended)

It was interesting to see Keith Olbermann put on his sad face the other night … I guess he forgot all about his Micheal Jackson puppet theatre. Or maybe he plans on doing one from MJ’s grave … or hyperchamber … or whatever serves as his final resting place.

[Mike MacLean]

I’ve got to side with Mr. Stella. I can’t hear a Michael Jackson song or watch his videos without thinking, “Pedophile, pedophile, pedophile.” For the children’s sake, I hope the allegations weren’t true. But if they were true, and I fear they were, then his death is nothing to mourn, and his life (and even his art) is nothing to celebrate.

[Cameron Hughes]

I don't understand people that don't like Michael Jackson. I mean, were you, like, born without a soul?

Dangerous is a really underrated album. Billie Jean is quite possibly one of the top 5 pop songs ever. The Lean in the Smooth Criminal video? HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE? The man defied physics. Still haven't seen a more impressive utterly alien dance move.

[Charlie Stella]

Pop songs aren't my idea of good music, but to each his own.

Never heard Dangerous ... never will.

The Lean? Smooth Criminal video?

TRUST ME, IT'S POSSIBLE.

Michael Jordan defied physics. So did Secretariat. The pedophile defied the criminal justice system (is that in the Smooth video)?

I did like his Motown moves if that helps.

[PJ Parrish]

Not to take anything away from Jackson as a dancer, but he pretty much lifted his style from his idol James Brown. Even the moonwalk is really just a riff on Brown's move called backsliding. Brown was seminal -- it all came from him, including Prince, MC Hammer and what you see from today's hip-hop artists. (But shoot, you trace it back far enough and you go through the Nicholas Brothers thru Master Juba back and back to Africa) Brown's famous one-liner sums up his take on all this: "I taught 'em everything they know but not everything I know!"

The man had ants in his pants and had to dance. (That's my favorite song of his). Check out this rare footage of the master in his prime: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zdz88MBWomo)

Oh, and Jackson's signature flood pants and white socks? He got that from Gene Kelly, who wore the style to draw the camera's focus to his feet.

[Peter]

Michael Jordan did not defy physics, but he did defy the rules of basketball with the referrees' -- and, one presumes, the NBA's -- approval. Travelling is for lesser mortals.

Charlie Stella's remarks on the 24-hour news cycle are the first sensible commentary I've read about Michael Jackson.

And thanks to PJ Parrish for that historical perspective on Jackson. One does not read much of that sort of thing in the rush to proclaim the man not just an icon, but seminal.
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