Michael Jackson

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  ‘What a job, Mike,’ Jackie exclaimed.

  ‘I've never seen anything like it,’ Jermaine added.

  They were all talking at once. They had had no idea what Michael was going to do during his solo spot; he had decided not to tell them.

  Jermaine kissed him on the cheek. Then Jackie, then the others. It was an unusual display; the brothers, following Joseph's example, were usually not affectionate or effusive with one another. However, Michael had shown them what he was capable of, they respected him for it and couldn't contain themselves. Maybe it really was a good performance, after all.

  However, it wasn't long before the moment was shattered. The brothers were soon talking about what Michael's glory might mean for them – the possibility of taking the group back out on the road and making more money than ever before. ‘The Jackson 5 are back,’ Jackie kept repeating, and the others agreed, enthusiastically. ‘This is gonna be great.’

  Michael didn't want any part of that idea. He turned and began walking away from them. ‘Hey, man, we're family,’ one of his brothers reminded him. Michael, an inscrutable expression on his face, just shook his head and kept walking.

  As Michael continued down the hall, a young boy in a tuxedo followed him. ‘Hey, Michael,’ the youngster called out. ‘Wait up.’

  Michael stopped.

  ‘Man, who ever taught you to dance like that?’ The kid looked up at his idol with adoring eyes.

  ‘Practice, I guess,’ Michael said.

  ‘You were amazing,’ the fan told him.

  ‘Thanks, I needed that,’ Michael responded.

  The youngster turned and walked away.

  Michael nodded to himself, and as he walked down the hall alone, he began to smile. Now, he felt good.

  The Man and the Moon

  The atmosphere at the Jacksons' house on Hayvenhurst was holiday-like, with people telephoning from across the country to rave about Michael. The house swarmed with people – relatives, CBS and Motown executives, neighbours and even fans – as members of the family repeatedly ran the videotape of Michael's exciting performance. ‘You gotta see this one more time,’ Joseph, the proud father, told everyone who came by. ‘I've never seen anything like it. Just look at this kid.’

  Joseph may not have realized it, but video players all over the country were in overdrive, as well. With his appearance on Motown 25, Michael accomplished two things: he reconfirmed for lifelong fans that, yes, he is the amazing talent they had always revered. Also, through the might of television, he reached millions of viewers who had never experienced him as a performer. Only on two other occasions – the first national television appearances of Elvis Presley and The Beatles, both on The Ed Sullivan Show – has television so handily delivered pop music superstardom. However, Michael Jackson's was quite possibly the single most captivating pop music performance in television history – the singing and the dancing. ‘Beat It’ had just hit number one two weeks earlier; it was Michael Jackson's world, and all of the other Jacksons were just living in it.

  Even the dance greats, such as Fred Astaire, were impressed by Michael's prowess. The day after the special aired, Fred telephoned Hermes Pan, the legendary choreographer and Oscar winner who taught Fred and Ginger Rogers their most memorable dance steps (and who was his neighbour in Beverly Hills). He told him to come by as soon as possible.

  When Hermes arrived, Fred put in a videotape of the performance. ‘Just wait till you see this.’ Then the two old pros watched in awe as the new kid on the block wowed America. Fred, never one to give light praise to other male dancers, was knocked out by Michael.

  ‘We agreed that we must call Michael, immediately,’ Hermes Pan told me. ‘Somehow, Fred tracked him down. He told him that he was one hell of a dancer. “A great mover.” He said, “You really put them on their asses last night. You're an angry dancer. I'm the same way.” I got on the line to say hello, and this whisper of a voice answered me. I was surprised, actually, that a person who dances with such anger would have such a soft voice. I told him how much I enjoyed his work, and he was very gracious, very excited to hear from us. For a moment, I believed he thought it was a practical joke. I liked him right away because he seemed so unaffected by show business, and also star struck. He really could not believe that Fred Astaire had called him.’

  Michael would say later that Fred's compliment meant more to him than any he had ever received. Michael's voice teacher, Seth Riggs, recalled that, ‘Michael was eating breakfast when Astaire called, and he became so excited he actually got sick and couldn't finish his meal.’ Later, Fred invited Michael to his home so that he could teach him and Hermes how to moonwalk.

  Soon after that, Gene Kelly visited Michael in Encino to talk shop. ‘He knows when to stop and then flash out like a bolt of lightning,’ Gene would say of Michael, who had, it seemed, joined a new brotherhood of dance. ‘He's clean, neat, fast, with a sensuality that comes through,’ Bob Fosse would say of Michael after Motown 25 was broadcast. ‘It's never the steps that are important. It's the style.’

  The moonwalk dance movement was taught to Michael by one of the former dancers on the popular American television programme called Soul Train. The steps had been around for about three years. When he saw the routine for the first time while watching the show, Michael simply had to learn it. Ron Weisner put him in touch with sixteen-year-old Geron Candidate, who went by the stage name of ‘Casper’, the kid who actually invented the move.

  ‘I saw something you guys did on Soul Train,’ Michael told Casper, ‘where it looks like you're going backward and forward at the same time.’

  ‘It's called the backslide,’ Casper exclaimed.

  ‘That's amazing!’ Michael exclaimed. ‘Can you teach me to do that?’

  Casper was so stunned, he could barely answer yes. The next day Casper and his dance partner, Cooley Jackson, met Michael at a rehearsal studio in Los Angeles. To the music of ‘The Pop-Along Kid’, by the group Shalamar, Cooley proceeded to demonstrate a version of the backslide which was more like pushing in place rather than walking backwards. It wasn't what Michael wanted. Then, Casper demonstrated the slide where it appears the dancer is walking backwards and forwards at the same time. Michael leaped into the air. ‘Yes! That's it. That's the one I want to learn.’

  When Casper sat down, Michael grabbed at his shoes to examine their soles. ‘What do you have on the bottom of your shoes?’ Michael wanted to know. ‘You got wheels under there, don't you? That's how you do that step, isn't it?’

  Casper explained that there were no special shoes or wheels involved; it was just a cleverly executed dance step. With the help of a chair, Casper began to teach it to Michael. For this practice session, Michael grabbed on to the chair back and executed the step in place repeatedly, in an effort to become accustomed to the foot movement. ‘He learned the basic concept in about an hour,’ Casper remembered. ‘He wasn't comfortable with it, but he had it down.’

  A couple of days later, Casper had another session with Michael. ‘He still wasn't at ease with it,’ Casper recalled. ‘Whereas I made it look so natural, like I was walking on air, he was stiff. It bugged him. “I can't do this in front of people unless I can do it right,” he kept saying.’

  After those rehearsals, Michael went on tour with his brothers. ‘I went to see the show in Los Angeles, and he didn't do the step,’ Casper said. ‘I was surprised. When I went backstage and asked him about it, he said he just didn't feel ready yet. He didn't feel he knew it.’

  Casper was home watching Motown 25, like millions of others, when he saw Michael do the step for the first time in front of an audience. ‘I couldn't believe it,’ he remembered. ‘My heart started pounding. I flew right out of my chair and screamed out, “Yeah! He did it. He finally did it. And I'm the guy who taught it to him.” It's not the moonwalk though,’ he explained. ‘It's the backslide. The moonwalk is when you do the step in a complete circle. But, somehow, the step Michael did on TV became known as the moonwa
lk, instead of the backslide.’

  Indeed, the moonwalk – or backslide – soon became Michael's signature dance step. His Motown 25 performance was nominated for an Emmy (and the programme itself won one). For teaching it to him, Casper was paid just a thousand dollars. ‘That's how much I asked for,’ he said, laughing. ‘I was sixteen. To me, that was good money. I would have done it for free, to tell you the truth. How was I supposed to know it would become Michael Jackson's trademark?’

  ‘Billie Jean’ and ‘Beat It’ Videos

  In March 1983, Michael hit number one again with ‘Billie Jean’. It would stay atop the charts for seven weeks, primarily because of the impact of the Motown 25 appearance, but also as a result of the video Michael made for the song. ‘When his people approached us about doing the video for “Billie Jean”, they didn't have any ideas at all,’ recalled Simon Fields, who produced the ‘Billie Jean’ video. Fields said that the concept came from its director, Steve Barron. ‘Basically, Michael was just following our direction,’ he said. ‘But the guy is a genius, so you can count on him to do wonderful things.’

  ‘Billie Jean,’ the first video from the Thriller album – and Michael's first major music clip – is ultimately too artsy for its own good. In a series of abstract shots, Michael plays high-tech hide-and-seek with a stalking, probing photographer – the only other major character – clearly suggesting Michael's paranoia about the press. However ‘Billie Jean’ the song – about a girl who haunts Michael, insisting that he is the father of her son – boasts too strong and visual a storyline to have been so overlooked in its video. In the end, the video is largely a series of odd scenes strung together.

  Michael Jackson's biggest advance with this video was in showing viewers a new side of himself. Here Michael was cool, mysterious and evasive. The most compelling moment in ‘Billie Jean’ comes, as usual with Jackson, when he dances. With each step he takes, the sidewalk underneath his feet lights up as if infused by, as Michael would say, ‘magic’.

  Michael demonstrated more of his deft dancing abilities in his excellent ‘Beat It’ video. While he had begun with only a vague concept for the ‘Billie Jean’ clip, he knew precisely what he wanted for ‘Beat It’. Veteran commercial director Bob Giraldi and Broadway choreographer Michael Peters collaborated with Michael on what would be one of the most dynamic, and expensive, videos to date. The choreographed ensemble-dancing in ‘Beat It’ would be often imitated in years to come, and is still a staple in the videos of many pop artists.

  Perhaps of all the numbers Michael had presented his fans during his career, the ‘Beat It’ video marked the biggest departure. As a song, the track was unadulterated rock and roll, something Michael's core fans, especially the majority of his black ones, initially rejected. Beyond that, the video depicted a Jackson never before seen: Michael as urban dweller, a kid living on the wrong side of the tracks – a human Michael.

  Some of Michael's public, particularly those living in urban neighbourhoods, found the storyline patronizing. In ‘Beat It’, which Michael has said was written with youngsters in mind, he is the good guy who ultimately stops two powerful gangs from warring with each other. Those viewers unable to separate Michael Jackson the musical enigma from Michael Jackson the actor missed the point when they asked angrily, ‘What does he know about gangs?’ and ‘Does he really think dancing through the problems we're having down here – muggings, killings, drug addiction – is the answer to our woes?’

  ‘The point is no one has to be the tough guy,’ Michael would explain. ‘You can walk away from a fight and still be a man. You don't have to die to prove you're a man.’

  Visually, Michael's video was convincing enough. Shot on location on the mean streets of Los Angeles, it looked dark and grimy. In a quest for authenticity, one hundred members of two real-life, rival Los Angeles street gangs were hired as extras and atmosphere people. (They were each fed and paid one hundred dollars for two nights' work.)

  ‘The gangs were sort of on the periphery of the location,’ choreographer Michael Peters once said, ‘so Michael really didn't have to deal with them. But he was a little nervous, as we all were at the beginning. However, he was wonderful with them. I think the turning point was when the gangs saw us dance. They had, I think, a different respect after that. Michael signed autographs and took pictures with them.’

  Acting was easy for Michael: he'd done a form of it onstage, singing, all his life. However, with ensemble-dancing, he found himself on uncharted terrain. Fans had never seen Michael in a Broadway-style setting, and some of them probably wondered why a hoofer like Michael needed someone to teach him steps, but choreographer Michael Peters succeeded in creating a dazzling, funked-up, Chorus Line-like dance effect. It all looked so easy, it seemed that anyone could do it. But, just try. ‘Looks can be deceiving, especially when it comes to dance,’ Michael would explain with a grin. Overall, the clip is rock theatre at its best. Its style and artistry actually succeeded in making the music more interesting, which has always been the ultimate goal of music videos.

  What's really interesting about Michael's Thriller videos, however, is how they boosted the popularity of the then-fledgling MTV network. MTV, the twenty-four-hour-a-day cable station that plays only music videos, became a phenomenon when it began airing in 1981, yet by 1983 it rarely played the videos of black artists. The station's format was ‘strictly rock and roll’, said Bob Pittman, the executive vice-president and chief operating officer of Warner American Express Satellite Entertainment Company and the driving force behind MTV. Pittman's definition of rock and roll excluded most black artists from the station's play lists. In fact, of the over 750 videos shown on MTV during the channel's first eighteen months, fewer than two dozen featured black artists. It was acceptable to have Phil Collins sing The Supremes' ‘You Can't Hurry Love’ and Hall and Oates singing other black-sounding material, yet the real thing was completely unacceptable on MTV at that time. When videos of black artists were submitted, they were quickly rejected as not being ‘rock and roll’.

  MTV's research and marketing departments had somehow decided that white kids in the suburbs did not like black music and maybe were intimidated by black people. There was nothing wrong with that, Bob Pittman reasoned; after all, ‘Bloomingdale's wouldn't work if it carried every kind of clothing ever made.’

  Bob Giraldi, director of Michael's ‘Beat It’ video, best summed up many black critics' opinions of MTV when he said that the station was run by ‘racist bastards’. Motown recording artist Rick James, whose videos had been rejected by the station, also charged that the network was racist and had set black people back four hundred years. Bob Pittman was probably not a racist, but he and MTV certainly catered to white suburban racism.

  When CBS submitted Michael Jackson's ‘Billie Jean’ to MTV, the cable station quickly rejected it. CBS then threatened to pull all of its other videos from MTV unless they ran ‘Beat It’. Michael Jackson had become so popular, Bob Pittman – and suburban white America – simply could not ignore him. Finally, in early March 1983, the ‘Billie Jean’ video was played on MTV, and in so-called ‘heavy rotation’, meaning often during the day. ‘Beat It’ followed. After that, MTV began to play a few more videos by black artists, and though the network still leans heavily towards white rock and roll, at least some black artists – though not many – receive airtime, mostly as a result of the Michael Jackson breakthrough so many years ago.

  Managerial Trouble

  By June 1983, Michael and his brothers had still not renegotiated their contract with their father, nor had they decided to re-sign with co-managers, Ron Weisner and Freddy DeMann. Though the brothers were ambivalent about re-signing, they were willing. They really didn't have any options, anyway. Of course, Michael was the holdout. He was disenchanted with his father and, now, also with Ron Weisner and Freddy DeMann. Because Michael was taking his time in making a decision about the matter, everyone involved was concerned. His decision meant a great deal to a
lot of people, in terms of money and power. If he signed, everyone else in the family would follow suit. If he didn't, it was possible that there could be other defections.

  Joseph hadn't been doing much for Michael lately, especially since John Branca came into his life. Michael trusted John implicitly and tried to make certain he – not Joseph – was involved in every decision. No surprise, then, that Joseph wasn't one of John's biggest fans (and vice versa) and only spoke, begrudgingly, to him if he couldn't speak to Michael, directly. Ron and Freddy handled whatever John chose not to, so in a sense, though not technically or officially (or, even legally, for that matter), John Branca was as much a manager to Michael as he was an attorney.

  Michael had complained to John during the last two years that Ron Weisner and Freddy DeMann were not creative individuals. ‘I don't even know why they're here,’ he said. ‘They don't know what they're doing, do they?’ But whenever John would discuss Michael's feelings with Ron and Freddy, they wouldn't know what he was talking about. They both felt that Michael was pleased with their work, since he had never told them otherwise. Michael picked up a lot of Joseph's business traits, but the art of confrontation was not one of them. He'd do it, if he had to… but he'd rather not have to do it.

  ‘You remember their idea for the “Beat It” video,’ Michael reminded John. ‘They wanted me to have bows and arrows,’ Michael complained. ‘Now, come on, Branca. That's stupid.’ It was true that Ron and Freddy had a concept for the ‘Beat It’ video that would have seen Michael dressed as a Robin Hood character in England. However, why not? It's all in the implementation, isn't it? If one was to describe the ‘Beat It’ video as it actually exists – Michael inspires two rival gangs to understand that dancing will bring about a peaceful solution of their disagreements – that might sound silly, too.