If nothing else, Antoine Fuqua’s Michael Jackson film, the mononymously titled Michael, goes down buttery smooth like its subject’s timeless music—slick, polished, and easily accessible.  

Across its 127-minute runtime, Michael effortlessly glides rather than probes, content to let the King of Pop’s iconic catalogue do the heavy lifting, and often compensate for its sanitized dramatization of his tumultuous upbringing and rise to superstardom.

While key stretches of Fuqua’s film unfold as an exercise in legacy management and one-note nostalgia, there’s no denying its ability to stir and enthral when it lets Jackson’s golden pop tunes speak for themselves, whether in intimate studio sessions or in breathtaking stadium concerts. Rather than illuminate the man behind the hits, it succeeds in tapping into the magic and majesty of his creative, hit-making process.

Opening in Gary, Indiana, in 1966, Fuqua’s film plunks us into the Jackson household, where strict patriarch Joe (Colman Domingo) punches his ticket to fame and fortune through his musically gifted children. As he practically beats the “Jackson 5” into existence, he places his focus and wrath on his youngest son, Michael (Juliano Krue Valdi), whose singular, silky-smooth voice is a miracle in itself.

As Michael (now, Jaafar Jackson) comes of age, the film traipses through key milestones, such as the troupe’s time with Motown Records and the release of Michael’s debut album, Off the Wall, ultimately finding its central conflict in the lasting tension between Joe’s conniving attempts to monetize his family and Michael’s struggle to cement a solo career with the help of his bodyguard (KeiLyn Durrel Jones) and his entertainment lawyer, John Branca (Miles Teller).

As Michael invests in its tepid family drama, it manifests as a glorified greatest hits compilation, glossing past character moments and beats that are starved for development, such as his obsession with toys, exotic pets, and his hasty decision to seek out cosmetic surgery. Sequences that should palpitate with raw, lived-in detail unfold with the depth of wax museum placards.

Despite its cartoonish sensibilities—which bottom out in a laughably superficial examination of racism—Michael remains home to a selection of rousing performances. Jaafar, who is Jackson’s real-life nephew, resurrects his breathy vocal inflections and physical cadences with uncanny accuracy. While Domingo’s exaggerated turn as his cruel, manipulative father often steals the limelight from the film’s main attraction.

Yet, it’s when Michael decouples from its narrative machinery and peers into Jackson’s interior, creative processes, that it comes to cast a powerful spell. Whether in intimate studio sessions or the iconic filming of Thriller, Fuqua transforms a listless biography into a rollicking concert film, allowing the splendour of songs like “Human Nature” and “Bad” to effortlessly emanate through pure sound and vision.

Fuqua crafts an experience that’s more akin to a curated hagiography than an authentic, challenging portrait. Michael is a spellbinding peek into Jackson’s limitless creative ambition that reminds us why the world fell under his musical reach in the first place.

Michael releases April 24.