The personal and career trajectory of the late Michael Jackson was undoubtedly riddled with controversy, and you wouldn’t really know it in a first installment of an inevitably two-part motion picture event that squarely builds the entertainer’s brand and origin story. To gain access to this catalogue of legendary popular music means filmmakers make a bit of a Faustian bargain to stay in a lionizing lane. As a glossy spectacle of entertainment, Anton Fuqua’s Michael (B+) absolutely delivers on a chronological coming of age tale of the Jackson 5 child star growing up and asserting his independence from his own overbearing father/manager to claim his own destiny as a solo star with great power and responsibility. Entering the film with skepticism about how it may not adequately plumb the emotional underpinnings of the man or address those aforementioned allegations, I respectfully disagree this telling of the tale is shallow and skin deep. Viewers will better understand the man based on this movie, even if the display of his demons is a bit suppressed in this outing. Fuqua’s confident direction, Jafaar Jackson’s breakthrough performance in the lead and even John Logan’s screenplay all make cogent storytelling sense. Sequential “behind the music” type narratives have fallen out of favor with critics; it’s taken Elvis by way of his manager, The Boss as told through the contents of an arty rather than popular album or even a British superstar played by a CGI monkey to come full circle to “walk hard” into straight-up crowd-pleasing. It’s honestly better produced than Bohemian Rhapsody, which had its own detractors on the way to making nearly a billion dollars, pleasing global fans and garnering Oscars. In this Jacksonverse, Colman Domingo and Nia Long are wonderful as MJ’s parents, a yin and yang of control and encouragement. KeiLyn Durrel Jones is the supporting cast VIP as Bill Bray, the singer’s quiet and understated security guard who seems to see the star without the gaze. Dion Beebe’s propulsive cinematography and Barbara Ling’s handsome production design across several decades keeps the story moving and engaging. Regardless of what happens in the follow-up, this film is a feel-good fairy tale. The greatest hits musical sequences are a joy and left our movie auditorium blissfully rewarded. A few bloated moments and trite assertions can’t puncture this opus or stunt the rein of the King of Pop. That coming sequel may indeed introduce a “wicked” set of second-act side-stepping, but the biopic we just got here in 2026 is a thriller.
Like Once and The Commitments before it, Rich Peppiatt’s Kneecap (B-) follows in a grand tradition of Ireland-set ragtag musical dramas with a splash of comedy and political revelations thrown in for good measure. Set in post-Troubles Belfast, this Sundance tuner tells the origin story of the titular trio of real-life bandmates — Liam Og O hAnnaidh, Naoise O Caireallain and J.J. O Dochartaigh — rapping a blend of English and native Irish rhymes for politically charged times. The characters become accidental activists as their Gaelic native tongue is on the brink of being banned by the government. Kneecap’s music sweeps viewers up into a ketamine-fueled, energetic series of episodes to encounter the meaning of pure defiance, laced with funny animated lyrics and playful surprises. Michael Fassbender helps ground the grassroots story as a martyred leader in exile. He’s head over heels better at acting than his fellow mates in the ensemble; by what the Kneecap musicians lack in natural acting, they make up in manic energy. It’s a rollicking, rebellious rap revolution with a heart for preserving the best of one’s cultural heritage and a lovely sense of anarchy.
Now in theatres, on HBO and on demand from Warner Bros.
Step right up as one of the world’s most creative cinematic carnival barkers presents his greatest showmance ever, with the calliope and clamor of the ultimate merry-go-round trapping the gallop of an icon in a rotating pageant, careening toward early immortality. The collision of intertwined workhorses whirling to that inevitable exit stage deft is magic in the making at a mechanical distance and fascinating to watch. One of the most beloved and earnest entertainers in music history and one of the most curious huckster/promoters in that same shimmery sham of showbusiness are twin muses in Baz Luhrmann’s busy but effective Elvis (B+). The eccentric Australian writer/director casts his clever and often keenly observational lens on the Faustian bargain between Elvis Presley (Austin Butler) and his handler Colonel Tom Parker (Tom Hanks) to maneuver a career equally marked by chart toppers and electric performances as well as a myriad of missed opportunities. The maximalist, impressionistic and sometimes chronological presentation traces the once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon of a young man inspired by the sounds of Memphis’ Beale Street being coronated as the King of Rock and Roll and the best-selling solo artist of all-time, all the while hemmed in to the myopic menagerie of a glorified side show act. Butler is truly a star being born, with bona fide revival tent wiggles and shakes plus aw-shucks charm worthy of being one of the most magnetic musicians to grace the stage, screen, airwaves and pop consciousness. This charismatic actor is undoubtedly the surprise main attraction here, conveying genuine connection with his audience and meeting the moment in a time and place of American and world history demanding his singular voice and outlook. The decision to juxtapose the crooner’s life opposite that of his opportunist manager intent on keeping his jack in the box is met with varying degrees of effectiveness. Summoning a strange accent and demeanor, Hanks can never quite bottle the intrigue expected of his uncanny antagonist role. Overall the milieu and music are consistently invigorating; Luhrmann hits emotional arcs strictly out of the ballpark. Viewers will leave the film with additional appreciation for what the pop performer brought to his platform. Building on more conventional biopics Bohemian RhapsodyandRocketman, Luhrmann’s bombastic bonbon ups the ante and the mythology around the man to conceive his epic take on a behind-the-music trope from an unexpected vantage point.
