Michael Jackson: Between the Music and the Verdict

Michael Jackson’s music was the soundtrack of my childhood. I remember my parents playing his songs, sharing stories of how they loved his voice and performances, and through them I inherited that admiration. His rhythms became part of my own playlist, and it was then I understood why he earned the title “King of Pop.” His artistry shaped culture in ways few could match, leaving echoes across generations.

Yet, as I grew older, I found myself not only listening to his music but also confronting the controversies that shadowed his life. Documentaries, interviews, and trials painted conflicting portraits, some defending him, others condemning him. Watching Michael Jackson: The Verdict on Netflix reminded me that his legacy is not just about melodies and moonwalks, but about the unresolved questions that continue to divide fans, critics, and the public.

The documentary itself tried to appear fair, interviewing people from both sides, yet its tone leaned against Michael. For me, this was striking because my earliest connection to him was purely musical, my parents’ admiration, the joy of his songs filling our home. That foundation made me realize how much he deserves the title “King of Pop.” But as I compared the documentary with others I had seen, I began to notice how exhausting it can be to navigate the contradictions surrounding his story.

Having watched nearly every video, movie, and documentary about Michael, I’ve experienced mixed emotions. On one hand, his stolen childhood is undeniable, a tragedy that shaped the man he became. On the other hand, the allegations against him are heartbreaking, because no true fan would want to ignore the pain of victims. While acknowledging the seriousness of those claims, it is also important to recognize how difficult it is to separate the artist from the accusations.

To avoid bias, I deliberately sought out documentaries that argued he was guilty. Yet even then, I found myself unconvinced. My reasoning wasn’t rooted in fandom but in the details presented by prosecutors and defense lawyers. Inconsistencies in testimonies stood out, and to be fair, psychology might explain why victims’ stories conflict. Still, the trial itself revealed discrepancies that even prosecutors admitted were difficult to reconcile.

This is where the role of the media becomes crucial. Journalists often seemed eager to lead audiences toward guilt, as if they were jurors themselves. At the same time, some fans defended Michael blindly, without research, which only fueled critics’ disdain. Both extremes, obsessive defense and sensationalist condemnation distort the truth and make it harder to see Michael clearly.

To be fair, both sides, those who defend Michael and those who condemn him share something in common. Whether through loyalty or criticism, they keep his name circulating. Michael Jackson remains more than an artist; he is a brand. His image, music, and controversies continue to generate attention, proving that even in division, his legacy is sustained by the very people who argue about him.

Ultimately, documentaries reflect the lens through which they are made. Netflix’s The Verdict felt like a recycled narrative, omitting crucial context that could have shifted its message. For instance, their brief use of Martin Bashir’s Living with Michael Jackson ignored how extending certain parts might have conveyed a different meaning. This editorial choice left me with the impression that the documentary had already decided its conclusion.

After immersing myself in these portrayals, I ended by watching the Jackson 5. In those performances, Michael was simply a child who loved to sing and dance, unaware of the burdens fame would later bring. That image of a pure, joyful, unguarded child reminded me of the innocence at the heart of his story.

As I finished watching Michael Jackson: The Verdict, I found myself retreating to the earliest memory of his music, my parents’ voices singing along, the joy of hearing the King of Pop fill our home. That joy was real, and it shaped me. His artistry carved itself into culture, leaving behind rhythms and performances that still pulse through generations. Yet the shadow of allegations and the exhaustion of endless documentaries remind us that his legacy is not simple. Looking back at the little Michael on stage with the Jackson 5, smiling as he sang, I cannot help but wonder: could that child, who only wanted to share his gift with the world, really have done such a thing?