The Movie 'Michael': Protecting Your Inner Light in a 'World Beyond Control'

I went to see the movie 'Michael'.
It was a deeply moving work that went beyond a mere musical biography, feeling more like a gaze into the trajectory of a human soul.

The release date of the album 'Thriller' in Japan was December 1, 1982.
Suddenly, my own memories came flooding back along with the atmosphere of that time.
Born in 1964, I was exactly 18 years old back then.

I am of the generation that experienced that global frenzy in real-time during the most sensitive period of life, transitioning from the end of my teens into my twenties.
At the time, I was glued to MTV, watching his videos.

However, in this movie, I was shocked to learn that the MTV of that era had an unspoken rule of 'not airing videos by Black artists'.

The sight of Michael stepping lightly across that glowing pavement (in 'Billie Jean'), which I had watched with such fervor through the screen, was not just a cool performance—it was the very moment he broke through a solid wall and changed history.

Through this film, what remained most strongly in my heart was the conflict Michael faced at the boundary between 'things he could control' and 'things he could not'.

On stage, he was an absolute presence who perfectly governed everything, from his own body to the emotions of tens of thousands of spectators.

Yet, the moment he stepped off the stage, he was at the mercy of 'external forces beyond his control,' such as the media frenzy, public expectations, and above all, the intense domination by his father.

Watching him struggle to break free from his father's control in the film was heart-wrenching.

As classical philosophy teaches, how to distinguish between the 'inner realm that can be governed by one's own will' and the 'external fate that cannot be helped' is a universal theme for us humans.

His struggle to maintain mental balance at that boundary, despite possessing absolute talent, poses a heavy question to those of us living in an absurd reality.

These words from his mother, which must have supported or shaped his life, resonated with me deeply:
'Being different might make your life a little difficult from now on. But don't let anyone take that light away; keep it shining for the world.'

No matter how much he was misunderstood by the world or worn down by unreasonable external forces, Michael never let anyone else control the pure 'light' within him.

I feel that his intense resistance against such external forces (fate) was also vividly expressed in his own performances.
The moonwalk in 'Billie Jean' and the zero-gravity lean shown in 'Smooth Criminal'.

His body, sliding as if friction had been erased, and tilting at a 45-degree angle as if ignoring the laws of physics.

From a philosophical perspective, 'gravity' is a symbol of the 'unavoidable reality' or the 'weight of fate' that binds humans to the ground.

The theme of 'liberation from gravity' always accompanied his iconic movements.

Those superhuman steps were not just dance; I suspect they were his own powerful metaphor—a rebellion against a harsh fate—declaring that 'the human spirit can transcend physical limitations and the environment (reality) we are given.'

His life embodies the universal human truth of 'light and shadow' in its most extreme form: the brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.

How much loneliness and philosophy were hidden behind those steps that I, at 18, simply and purely marveled at with such enthusiasm?

Now that I am past sixty, being able to reunite with his life through the screen like this was a truly wonderful experience.