After the accolades of a local reviewer, the lovely bunny and I decided to see "This Is It"; the Michael Jackson concert series rehearsal documentary.

There is a temptation to think that a two hour movie coming out so soon after Michael Jackson's untimely death, has to be poorly-made schlock designed to cynically exploit his fans. The reality is that we are all beneficiaries of amazing serendipity--Jackson was filming the rehearsals for his planned concert series in London, England, giving us a heaping portion of what made Michael Jackson one of the greatest entertainers of the 20th century.

Gratifyingly, we can talk all we want about the documentary without spoiling it for prospective viewers. What one sees is akin to the shows common on the Discovery channel that detail the process of vehicle restoration or motorcycle building--seeing the sausage made doesn't diminish our enjoyment of the final product in the slightest.

Michael Jackson at 50 is barely showing his age, both physically and as a showman. He is less athletic, but just as graceful. His voice is undiminished. There is simply no hint at all that he is at the end of his life. Instead we see a man at the height of his powers, straining for perfection while exuding confidence that it can be and will be attained. He is unfailingly polite and respectful to his subordinates, but unmistakably in charge.

The respect accorded to him by all the many chiefs and Indians that populate an enterprise like a major concert series, is both awe-inspiring and a little creepy, yet it provides the necessary background to gain some understanding into why Jackson always seems slightly alien. At the very beginning of the film, a number of supporting performers are interviewed, and they are clearly in the throes of a transcendental experience. They have touched the face of God.

That kind of universal adulation has to isolate a man in ways very, very few of us will ever understand. Jackson comes across as intimately connected to his art, while at the same time profoundly disconnected from everyone around him. At several points in the film, he interacts with supporting performers, and while they are clearly aware of him, you feel nothing coming the other way--they are props, nothing more.

Jackson makes a political statement about "saving the planet" during the concert, but its emotional and naive quality, coinciding with the naive quality of the man, makes it backfire. Al Gore might wish that Peter Pan wasn't such an enthusiastic supporter of global warming's secular religion. Yet seeing Jackson directing traffic in the rehearsals, I got the sense that he wasn't naive at all, so when he does the "save the planet" schtick, I sensed a calculating effort in image-making reminiscent of the "We Are The World" nonsense.

In the end, the film is appears as Jackson's final insistent statement of his life--he gives the public his art; fully and unreservedly, while refusing to reveal anything else that he hasn't precisely calculated for effect and impact. Sad and glorious at the same time.