Michael is a disappointingly simplistic biopic of the first 20-ish years of the career of world-renowned singer-dancer Michael Jackson. Though depicted with experientially derived precision and finesse by his nephew Jaafar Jackson (the son of Michael’s older brother and fellow Jackson 5 band member, Jermaine), Michael does little to detail who the real man was beyond his relationship with his father, Joseph (Colman Domingo), an abusive, manipulative band manager who forced stardom on Michael and his brothers. General points about Jackson’s most publicly familiar career indeed ring true, but without much substance or controversy beyond Joseph’s dislike of Michael going solo, let alone anything like basic emotional reactions or character development to demonstrate how Michael evolved into the popstar generations fell for, or how he changed even during it. Performances all around are impassioned—especially when Jaafar takes the stage, ripping his heart out through rhythmic charm and perfect pitch exactly as the real Michael Jackson did for decades—but a generic script that AI could’ve just as easily produced and a squeaky clean focus on Jackson’s passion for music strip Michael of any legitimacy in its dancing legend backstory attempt.

In American culture, it’s hard to imagine that many haven’t at least heard of Michael Jackson. Even now, 18 years after the performer’s overdose, his moonwalk, impossibly high notes, and hit music videos like those made for “Thriller,” “Billie Jean,” and “Bad” run through this writer’s mind and search history at least once a year. There’s no question he made a name for himself beyond what his seemingly sociopathic father tried to force upon him, and he didn’t stop producing musical stand-outs until shortly before his death. Coming into Michael, I expected what Rocketman delivered for Elton John in 2019: a dive into a sensation’s mind and personal experiences in all the shades of white, gray, and black they come, balanced with hypnotic musical bursts that demonstrate both the star’s power over audiences and what they feel in those moments. With so much history, talent, and mostly rumor about who Michael Jackson was as a human being, there seems to be a goldmine of storytelling opportunity.

Michael certainly starts that way, delving into the rough living the Jackson family lived before fame. In 1966, Michael’s family didn’t have much; living in the poor ‘burbs of Gary, Indiana, Michael, his handful of siblings, and their parents were supported by nothing but Joseph’s steel factory job. Determined to give his family a better life, Joseph recognized his boys’ talents, especially Michael’s, and forced them all to form the heart-striking Jackson 5. Through strict discipline—starting with Joseph’s belting Michael for suggesting everyone needs a break, as Michael hollers in despair surrounded by widened eyes of the other frightened children and their mother, Katherine Scruse-Jackson (Nia Long)—Joseph, forcing his kids to refer to him by first name, whips them into a loveable boy band that gets signed by the American record label, Motown, and moves them away from the hardships of poverty. But beyond that first scene and a handful of others meant to demonstrate his desperate grasps for control over Michael—”You have a lot to learn about family,” he daggers at Michael after Michael fires him as manager—there’s not much else beyond Michael saying six ways to Sunday how much he loves music and believes it can “transform the world.” In fact, donning the red jacket and entering an alleyway accessible dance studio, calling back to his “Beat It” hit, he quite literally convinces a group to star in the video with that kind of vague, disinteresting ploy: “I believe we can transform the world with music and [your] dance.” That sentiment is just about all there is to Michael beyond getting out of his father’s grasp, whether he’s nervous for his next performance or recovering from his scalp getting engulfed in flames during a rehearsal.

With or without knowledge of who Michael Jackson was, Michael is an insultingly narrow and generic portrayal of the man’s life on and off stage, even though the performances are outrageously standout and the filmmakers clearly had extensive knowledge of the man. There’s enough to say what happens in Michael could apply to the real MJ’s life, but not enough to say for sure, to actually learn about him, or feel anything beyond fun when his songs start. Any controversies or insecurities are merely alluded to (“These painkillers, man,” he says in recovering from the scalp burn, an obvious nod to the eventual cause of his death), any issues are quickly skipped through, and moments where serious change in the real star’s life could’ve occurred are ignored. Instead, Michael delivers inspiring recreations of Michael Jackson’s biggest hits, a big house filled with monkeys, giraffes, and other exotic animals, and a cookie-cutter depiction that’s too vague to feel like the real deal. For those looking for pure fun, Michael definitely delivers over-the-top musical numbers and sturdy performances to back them up. Beyond that, there’s nothing here to make it a Jackson-worthy (or historically specific) biopic.

In theaters now—get tickets at Alamo Drafthouse Seaport, Apple Cinemas Cambridge, Capitol Theatre, Cinema Salem, Landmark’s Kendall Square, Patriot Cinemas, Showcase Cinemas, West Newton Cinema, and all local AMCs