Aisling Murphy

As it stands, though, MJ is a glittering, woefully incomplete ode to one of the most important entertainers in history. The music sounds great; the dancing might see you attempt a moonwalk on your stroll home. But it seems we’re doomed to reassess Jackson’s legacy every few years – I’m sure we’ll do this again when the estate-approved biopic Michael drops in 2026. Once more, we’ll have to ask, likely while humming Thriller under our breath: How can we honour this tremendous, haunted individual if we never hear his whole story?

John Rando’s production has a few moments that titillate rather than obliterate the senses – the levitating car, as well as choreographer Chris Bailey’s tight dance sequences – but there’s an overreliance on projections and video that makes Back to the Future feel less like a stage show and more like a ride at a rickety carnival, flashy and bright but without much substance beneath the surface.