Yes, "This is It." Go the moment it comes out. See it on the large screen. Everyone on this planet must see Michael as we saw him his entire life -- larger than life. One last time. It has all the music you would expect to hear and more: “Thriller,” “Billie Jean,” The Man in the Mirror,” and so much more.

From whatever bright star Michael Jackson is now astride, he can hold his head high. This is the consummate Michael film. It is also about fame: that it causes you to burn ever more brilliantly until there is nothing left. It is as much about us: those who danced to Michael's songs, sang his lyrics, watched the boy fame build, sought glimmers of him in adult life. This is the first legitimate film made about who he was and is, and, should always be to us.

Mere words will have to suffice here. No words will ever capture the immersive experience you are brought into ever so gently. No comparison can ever do this homage justice. It carries the dignity of "Chorus Line" and the best “Making Of” documentaries. The film glistens with interviews of youth, hope, exuberance, pure joy and everything that must have been learned by working with Michael. The best dancers of the world were personally chosen to share Michael's stage. The best choreographers, lighting designers, costumers, musicians. From frame one, you know this is it: Michael's world.

Everything in this respectful ode is bigger than life. Everyone is extraordinarily respectful to the King of Pop and rightfully so. His being burns so brightly that he is the stage, audience, lighting, costumes, special effects. Immediately the audience is taken with the sense that Michael is actually the energy of a rising star somehow contained within a single human form, trapped in mere bones and skin.

As Michael says about a movement, “It’s got to sizzle.” In “I’ll Be There,” we see atoms dancing, spinning about their electrons. MJ simmers and explodes. We get a sense of the ephemeral and effervescent being pulled to infinity.

Perhaps no one really was allowed to know who this phantom was his fans came to expect in lieu of the little boy we first met. Which is why when we see him totally in control, fully, supremely in command of this “other” world from the first moment the edit cuts to Michael to the last, we know him best or at least as close as we will ever come.

This is the film we should have seen first, were it possible -- before the boy became a man. We would have been kinder to him.

Now of course it is too late. Michael is now a sum of all of light ever shone on him, the burning sun, sequins glittering, all the LED effects that were to adorn Michael just so for his last shows. Brilliant light is ablast in almost every frame. Flood lights, kliegs, special effect flames. Kenny Ortega directs the follow spot crew. Michael is to walk into the light that is brighter than he. Whip pan to Michael.

The film builds to a crescendo of Michael the consummate professional. In snippets we see an adult performer saving his voice, going through some of the dance moves pacing himself as would a a champion athlete. When you burn that brightly, you have to be careful not to burn out. However, ninety-nine per cent of the footage is pure Michael. Serious about his music, his instrument, his work. By the time the long arm of the theatrical cherry picker carries him out over the stage, the moment is electrifying. The costumes are hot, the choreography is defined by muscle and street movements choreographed into mock fight scenes while backlit dancers whirl, owning their piece of stage. All eyes on Michael.

“This is It” is satisfaction compounded and delivered. It is the ultimate experience with lighting, mist, sounds, visual effects, and contrasts.

By the time we see Michael in black Asian silk pants and black bomber jacket with splashes of hot orange, we feel that the turbine which drives Michael is perhaps now spinning too quickly, throwing off particulate matter too far from his body. Michael steps into another light and sings, dances, and explodes into “Billie Jean.”

Michael is surrounded by youth, sound, kinetic energy, sweat, and more light. Every kind of light. He is the flame to which everything is drawn. Many times the Michael who wants to hold back during rehearsals lets loose for his adoring dancer fans off stage. We see in their eyes who Michael the performer truly was. They are us. We see through them, we dance with Michael with them, we are in his light through them.

Sit through the credits for more Michael. One of the most endearing experiences is in the last fame of Michael leaping into the air. For a fraction of a breath, a fraction of time, you wonder if his leap will keep going or they will freeze frame. Alas, gravity brings him down.  He lands. A solid force of wonder. That should be the U-tube moment.

How, we are left to wonder, could any of it have been otherwise? This is it. Applause; applause; applause. Fade out.
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