Michael Jackson means something very different to my teenage son than he does to me. While I sat in the theatre taking in "This is It" -- nodding my head and tapping my feet to the beat of my youth -- he sat beside me fascinated by thoughts of how one person can be known both for unsavory indiscretions (allegedly) and unparalleled genius (undeniably). I guess I pondered the paradox also, but most of the time I simply drank in the wonder of someone so thoroughly in command of his capacity to communicate through music.
It's practically cliche' to describe Michael Jackson as a genius. But, really, what other single word can be used? He's clearly the master of his craft - a magician who mixes music, movement and moving images as a way to fashion memories capable of lasting a lifetime. And now this movie encapsulates the work of his life: This truly is it.
Both times that I watched this cinematic tribute, I sat silently and a bit misty-eyed through the end credits like most of the other theatre-goers, attempting to reconcile what it meant that this really was it. The first time I sat next to my husband, remembering what it felt like to dance with him to the songs playing again for us as lively as in our courtship. The second time I sat next to my youngest son, enjoying a rare - and fleeting - night out together. One day he will accompany females that aren't me to must-see movies, but tonight the privilege was mine.
Then, as we warped back to present time during the car ride home, he helped me remember that it truly is times like these that help us learn to live and love again. I am blessed.
Enjoy ...
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