Can’t beat it Michael Jackson musical effectively moonwalks between different eras of performer’s life By: Holly Harris Posted: 2:00 AM CST Friday, Nov. 7, 2025 Last Modified: 9:08 AM CST Friday, Nov. 7, 2025 Updates

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MJ the Musical delivered a thriller of a ride Wednesday when the four-time Tony Award-winning touring production kicked off its six-show run at the Centennial Concert Hall.

The 150-minute jukebox musical, created by English director/choreographer Christopher Wheeldon and American playwright Lynn Nottage, is set in an L.A. rehearsal studio in 1992 as the King of Pop prepares for his Dangerous World Tour.

No fewer than 40 hit tunes — some reprises and others only snippets — are featured, with a series of flashbacks woven into the narrative that chronicle the divisive artist’s stratospheric rise to fame, as well as the demons he faced in his personal life.

The show — conveniently set the year before the first allegations of child molestation against the singer — peels back the curtain on the consummate showman’s relentless drive towards perfection, born of a brilliant creative mind.

Jackson died at age 50 in June 2009 on the cusp of his highly touted comeback show, This Is It, slated for London’s 02 arena. His diehard fans — many of whom were in the crowd, adorned in hats and gloves — will have witnessed various rockumentaries and concert flicks throughout the years, including the chilling posthumous doc This is It (2009).

American actor/singer/dancer Jordan Markus, 25, as a lanky MJ — his uncanny physical resemblance qualifying for doppelganger status — elicited loud gasps from the mixed-ages audience as he bounded onstage for the fiery opening number Beat It, joined by a crackerjack ensemble of singers/dancers.

Faced with the Herculean task of bringing the artist to life physically, vocally and spiritually, Markus resists all temptation towards stereotype or caricature, with every spin, moonwalk, robot dance and crotch grab — punctuated by Jackson’s signature vocal yelps — meticulously studied and flawlessly executed. It’s as if Jackson has somehow reincarnated from the grave, although several balance issues with the live onstage band and pit orchestra sometimes made his lyrics difficult to hear.

Over-breathiness in his dialogue, including a slight discomfiting lisp, mar the overall portrayal; Markus’s MJ is not always a sensitive “artiste,” but tentative player in his own life’s drama.

Yet when the performer seizes his own power and belts out a blistering Billie Jean or Smooth Criminal, among many others, you simply cannot take your eyes off him.

The effect is heightened by the show’s electrifying lighting design, digital projections and no-expense-spared costumes — the sequined glove earns squeals of delight — that pop against the gritty, graffiti-inscribed walls of the rehearsal studio.

Markus boasts compelling acting chops during his poignant flashback scenes with the younger versions of himself, with kudos to Brandon Lee Harris (Off the Wall-era Michael) and Little Michael Quentin Blanton Jr. (in addition to Bryce A. Holmes) for their fearless depictions.

One of the most satisfying performances belongs to Rajané Katurah as Jackson’s long-suffering, God-fearing mother Katherine — she morphs into “Kate” for the 1992 studio scenes — who comforts her young son after being cruelly bullied by her abusive husband.

Her counterpart, Devin Bowles, who flips between Dangerous tour manager Rob and MJ’s father Joseph during the flashback scenes, might have fleshed out his patriarchal figure with greater emotional subtext and nuance.

Special mention goes to Michael Nero for his spot-on Quincy Jones (also MJ’s brother Tito), and Kristin Stokes as MTV director Rachel, desperate to dig up dirt on the pop artist — in particular his growing drug dependency — as she and videographer Alejandro (Kevin Cruz) film Jackson’s Dangerous rehearsal segments.

The narrative does an admirable job of delving into the roots of the singer’s famous eccentricities — yes, Bubbles, his pet chimp, is paid lip service — including the desperate loss of his own childhood, underscored by the Faustian pacts artists strike for fame.

The storyline effectively moonwalks between Jackson’s past and present, interwoven with several fantastical sequences including a heart-pounding, all-too-brief riff on Halloween cult anthem Thriller.

Wheeldon, whose stunning choreography — including funky, hip-hop body isolations and intricate footwork — fuels this show, takes creative licence with the iconic movement sequences as immortalized by MTV in 1983, with many audience members likely blood-thirsty for the familiar ghoulish steps.

A few more quiet moments, such as ballad She’s Out of My Life and even a slower tempo version of The Way You Make Me Feel heard in Act II, would provide greater contrast for the no-holds-barred numbers. The show could also be whittled down, with its full-bore intensity arguably exhausting by the end.

However, resolution does arrive — if not for the late singer, for his character, at least — during the show’s finale of Man in the Mirror, as the stage floods with members of MJ’s past and present, including his younger selves, with Jackson finally confronting his bullying father.

This paves the way for one final thunderous encore of Black or White, met by a standing ovation from the near-capacity house, cheering as much for the performances as for the legendary pop icon and his glittering, trailblazing artistry.

holly.harris@shaw.ca