by David Bartholow

Is something indented? Michael at the American Music Awards.

Upon departing Gary’s cold gray streets, I couldn’t help but marvel at the notion that this bleak dwelling was the hole from which the Jacksons climbed. Not to pass any unfair judgment, but the place seemed oppressive and hopeless – hopeless like the modern Michael, his career losing steam, face gaunt and white, nose chiseled bone-thin.

The Jackson Five were one thing, you know, rags to riches glory overnight – the embodiment of the American dream, if you will. Their story’s old hat, however. You see, even with Gary in the distance, I couldn’t escape the Jacksons’ present-day predicament. That somehow seemed far more relevant.

After a few years of unflagging silence, the entertainment world’s most celebrated family re-emerged in 2001 with a string of album releases and media-savory offerings. While baby sister Janet’s career continued its seemingly flawless journey, commercially speaking anyway, the elder Michael, the emaciating self-proclaimed King of Pop, proceeded to stumble on the crumbling path his destructive fame has fashioned.

Last April, Ms. Janet released her “All For You” LP to favorable public reception, and supported the release with a sold-out summer tour. Despite the tour’s success, highly publicized health-related setbacks plagued the “All For You” arena extravaganza, forcing cancellations in select cities. Don’t ask why, but aging MTV icons somehow always fail to drink their tea while on tour. How else does one catch a summertime flu?

Janet really shouldn’t be the target here, though. She still has kids and young professionals alike dancing on their feet or in their seats. From what I’ve read in pop culture publications and observed on TV, she’s certainly the most level-headed lamb of the Jackson flock.

Janet’s considerable successes have failed to foreshadow brother Mike’s ensuing setbacks. Fittingly an apocalyptic year, Mr. Mike suffered blows to a 30-year solo career that has been struggling stateside since the mid-90s. In late October, our friend the King released Invincible, his first album of all-new material since 1991’s ubiquitous Dangerous. Four years in the making and costing Sony’s Epic Records label a reported $30 million, the album entered the charts at number one, but a lukewarm public reception gave Invincible little staying power, and the record fell by the wayside within weeks.

While such disappointments are typical fare for aging entertainment legends, Jackson’s seems all the more appalling. Record labels always heavily market their bigger artists when releasing new records, but never have I witnessed such excessive and fruitless promotional scheming. Weeks before the release, the once invisible Michael Jackson was entirely inescapable. An über-laudatory VH1 special aired and re-aired day and night to woo yuppies and college kids alike, but didn’t. MTV, with its endless King of Pop programming, hoped to sucker teenyboppers into believing that Michael wasn’t so weird after all. But I don’t think the hyper-stimulated could get beyond the face.

That face: man, or mask? I can’t stop looking, either.
On September 7, Michael threw a lavish party for himself at New York’s Madison Square Garden to celebrate his 30-year solo career. Billed as “Michael Jackson: The Solo Years 30th Anniversary Celebration”, the self-attributed tribute featured an array of modern-day pop icons, including Britney Spears, ‘Nsync, Whitney Houston and the Jackson 5, and was later aired in October as a two-hour CBS special. The spectacle was Jackson’s first U.S. performance in 11 years. However, due the exorbident ticket prices – top seats sold for an unnecessary $2,500 – the self-indulgent event barely sold out.

Amid the hype and ultimate success of Jackson’s Jackson tribute – it garnered CBS’s highest ratings of the fall – waves of controversy, both internal and external, marred the event. The scornful media lambasted Mike’s arrogance. “Who throws a party for themselves and asks people to pay $2500 to attend?” they asked. Brother Jermaine, formerly of the Jackson 5, found himself asking the same question and refused to perform until ‘lil ‘ol Mike came back beggin’ on his knees.

On January 9, Michael performed at the American Music Awards to yet another massive American audience. Camera close-ups revealed a cavity, a literal hole, on the left-hand side of his famously doctored nose. Faced with such a sight, one can’t help but wonder what will erode next.

A thriller once invincible, the man in the mirror suffers from the fame and fortune he has so impressively amassed. Once world famous for his actual talents – which are considerable, mind you – Michael Jackson remains ever-fascinating because he tempts the world with his bizarre personal and destructive spectacle. As the years pass, we witness an aging child grow younger and younger, deteriorating in the ruins of a certain unfathomable fame.

Michael, we criticize, we do, we do, ‘cause oh we so lament what you’ve so sadly become.

David Bartholow has fake teeth. You can reach him at d-bartholow@northwestern.edu.

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