Article/Archive
When Leaving Neverland premiered on HBO a little over six years ago, the two-part, four-hour documentary sparked a long-overdue reckoning with the legacy of Michael Jackson. Composed largely of interviews with two men, Wade Robson and James Safechuck, who say that Jackson repeatedly sexually abused them when they were children, the movie seemed to be the tipping point after nearly three decades of rumors, investigations, and out-of-court settlements, prompting a flood of media coverage that included more than a dozen articles in Slate alone. The #MeToo movement had, it seemed, inaugurated a cultural sea change. The rich and famous were no longer considered innocent by default, and their accusers were not immediately suspect. We would never see MJ the same way again.
Leaving Neverland 2: Surviving Michael Jackson, director Dan Reed’s sequel to his bombshell documentary, was released on Tuesday. But this time, it was greeted with virtual silence. Whereas the first movie premiered at the Sundance Film Festival to a room packed with journalists, the second simply popped up on YouTube, less than a month after the entertainment industry trades broke the news of its existence. As of midafternoon Friday, it had 38,000 views.
At a little over 53 minutes, Leaving Neverland 2 is more of an update than a self-contained work, mostly covering Robson and Safechuck’s attempts to pursue legal action against Jackson’s estate in the years since the first movie aired. But if you’re looking to refresh your memory of the original film, you’ll have to make do with the new one’s brief excerpts, because Leaving Neverland effectively no longer exists, at least in the U.S. Relying on a nondisparagement clause in a deal to air a 1992 concert, Jackson’s estate sued HBO for breach of contract, and after five years in court, the network agreed to a settlement that included permanently removing the movie from its Max streaming platform; although Leaving Neverland was released on DVD, the disc is now out of print, and a used copy is nearly $100 on eBay. (In an unexpected twist, you can still stream the film in the U.K., where plaintiff-friendly libel laws usually make it much more difficult to report on public figures, and the second part was broadcast on Channel 4 this week.) MJ, the stage musical based on Jackson’s life, was nominated for 10 Tonys and is now in its fourth year on Broadway; the Cirque du Soleil spectacle set to his music is still running in Las Vegas; and a Hollywood biopic, directed by Training Day’s Antoine Fuqua, has already been filmed, though its release date is uncertain. #MeToo has become #NeverMind.
On its own, Leaving Neverland 2 is, unfortunately, not much to speak of. At Sundance, Reed said that he shot interviews with attorneys on both sides of the case but opted not to use them, focusing exclusively on Robson, Safechuck, and the families. In the sequel, lawyers take center stage. Vince Finaldi and John Manly, whose California practice specializes in civil litigation related to sexual abuse, ably guide us through the basis of their lawsuit, which alleges that the companies Jackson formed to manage his affairs should be held liable for his actions even after his death. But while they convey a sense of dedication to the cause, they can’t be as compelling as Jackson’s alleged victims themselves.
For years, Jackson and his representatives, both legal and public, have argued that his accusers are motivated solely by the desire for money. (The Hollywood biopic is reportedly mired in legal issues because its third act depicts the family of Jordan Chandler, the then-13-year-old who accused Jackson of sexual abuse in 1993, as money-grubbing opportunists.) And they’ve pointed to the fact that Robson and Safechuck both defended Jackson in court. Leaving Neverland devotes a good chunk of its length to explaining why they lied under oath, and although the sequel repeats that explanation in truncated form, it takes time to walk an audience through the emotional logic of defending your alleged abuser, time this brief addendum doesn’t have. As for being in it for the money: With Jackson dead, there aren’t many avenues for justice available to his alleged victims except for the monetary rewards of a civil judgment and the attendant public vindication. And even if their motivations are financial, his estate’s seem unlikely to be less so—especially since megastars like Jackson are most profitable when they’re reinjected into the culture over and over again, and that’s a lot harder to do when the good feelings associated with their songs become associated with a toxic personal brand.
That’s why the most fascinating part of Leaving Neverland 2 has almost nothing to do with Robson and Safechuck. After years of failing to get an on-camera response from Jackson’s estate or his family, Reed turns instead to his fans, who are as much the guardians of his legacy as anyone who holds the rights. Most take Jackson’s side, of course, with one suggesting that Leaving Neverland, which went to almost unbearable lengths to describe when and how Jackson allegedly abused his victims, didn’t go into enough specifics to be convincing. (A clearly stunned Reed asks, off camera, “That wasn’t detailed enough for you?”) But one, a middle-aged Black man identified only as “Z,” says that watching the original documentary set him on a path of questioning and reinvestigating everything he thought he knew. And when he dug around, he says, “I didn’t like what I saw.” It’s a reminder of how powerful the impact of Leaving Neverland was, and of how ominous it is that, at a time when media access is under the near-total control of streaming conglomerates, it’s possible for a movie of such historic and cultural importance to simply disappear.
The Michael Jackson Documentary That Shook the World Has Vanished
The sequel to Leaving Neverland is here, but the original is nowhere in sight.
When Leaving Neverland premiered on HBO a little over six years ago, the two-part, four-hour documentary sparked a long-overdue reckoning with the legacy of Michael Jackson. Composed largely of interviews with two men, Wade Robson and James Safechuck, who say that Jackson repeatedly sexually abused them when they were children, the movie seemed to be the tipping point after nearly three decades of rumors, investigations, and out-of-court settlements, prompting a flood of media coverage that included more than a dozen articles in Slate alone. The #MeToo movement had, it seemed, inaugurated a cultural sea change. The rich and famous were no longer considered innocent by default, and their accusers were not immediately suspect. We would never see MJ the same way again.
Leaving Neverland 2: Surviving Michael Jackson, director Dan Reed’s sequel to his bombshell documentary, was released on Tuesday. But this time, it was greeted with virtual silence. Whereas the first movie premiered at the Sundance Film Festival to a room packed with journalists, the second simply popped up on YouTube, less than a month after the entertainment industry trades broke the news of its existence. As of midafternoon Friday, it had 38,000 views.
At a little over 53 minutes, Leaving Neverland 2 is more of an update than a self-contained work, mostly covering Robson and Safechuck’s attempts to pursue legal action against Jackson’s estate in the years since the first movie aired. But if you’re looking to refresh your memory of the original film, you’ll have to make do with the new one’s brief excerpts, because Leaving Neverland effectively no longer exists, at least in the U.S. Relying on a nondisparagement clause in a deal to air a 1992 concert, Jackson’s estate sued HBO for breach of contract, and after five years in court, the network agreed to a settlement that included permanently removing the movie from its Max streaming platform; although Leaving Neverland was released on DVD, the disc is now out of print, and a used copy is nearly $100 on eBay. (In an unexpected twist, you can still stream the film in the U.K., where plaintiff-friendly libel laws usually make it much more difficult to report on public figures, and the second part was broadcast on Channel 4 this week.) MJ, the stage musical based on Jackson’s life, was nominated for 10 Tonys and is now in its fourth year on Broadway; the Cirque du Soleil spectacle set to his music is still running in Las Vegas; and a Hollywood biopic, directed by Training Day’s Antoine Fuqua, has already been filmed, though its release date is uncertain. #MeToo has become #NeverMind.
On its own, Leaving Neverland 2 is, unfortunately, not much to speak of. At Sundance, Reed said that he shot interviews with attorneys on both sides of the case but opted not to use them, focusing exclusively on Robson, Safechuck, and the families. In the sequel, lawyers take center stage. Vince Finaldi and John Manly, whose California practice specializes in civil litigation related to sexual abuse, ably guide us through the basis of their lawsuit, which alleges that the companies Jackson formed to manage his affairs should be held liable for his actions even after his death. But while they convey a sense of dedication to the cause, they can’t be as compelling as Jackson’s alleged victims themselves.
For years, Jackson and his representatives, both legal and public, have argued that his accusers are motivated solely by the desire for money. (The Hollywood biopic is reportedly mired in legal issues because its third act depicts the family of Jordan Chandler, the then-13-year-old who accused Jackson of sexual abuse in 1993, as money-grubbing opportunists.) And they’ve pointed to the fact that Robson and Safechuck both defended Jackson in court. Leaving Neverland devotes a good chunk of its length to explaining why they lied under oath, and although the sequel repeats that explanation in truncated form, it takes time to walk an audience through the emotional logic of defending your alleged abuser, time this brief addendum doesn’t have. As for being in it for the money: With Jackson dead, there aren’t many avenues for justice available to his alleged victims except for the monetary rewards of a civil judgment and the attendant public vindication. And even if their motivations are financial, his estate’s seem unlikely to be less so—especially since megastars like Jackson are most profitable when they’re reinjected into the culture over and over again, and that’s a lot harder to do when the good feelings associated with their songs become associated with a toxic personal brand.
That’s why the most fascinating part of Leaving Neverland 2 has almost nothing to do with Robson and Safechuck. After years of failing to get an on-camera response from Jackson’s estate or his family, Reed turns instead to his fans, who are as much the guardians of his legacy as anyone who holds the rights. Most take Jackson’s side, of course, with one suggesting that Leaving Neverland, which went to almost unbearable lengths to describe when and how Jackson allegedly abused his victims, didn’t go into enough specifics to be convincing. (A clearly stunned Reed asks, off camera, “That wasn’t detailed enough for you?”) But one, a middle-aged Black man identified only as “Z,” says that watching the original documentary set him on a path of questioning and reinvestigating everything he thought he knew. And when he dug around, he says, “I didn’t like what I saw.” It’s a reminder of how powerful the impact of Leaving Neverland was, and of how ominous it is that, at a time when media access is under the near-total control of streaming conglomerates, it’s possible for a movie of such historic and cultural importance to simply disappear.
