Michael Jackson accusers Wade Robson, left, and James Safechuck, right, flank director Dan Reed
Finished watching "Leaving Neverland" last night and there was a grand total of one thing that didn't ring true: Michael Jackson tried topping someone? People keep asking me if they should watch the HBO documentary to which I reply: It's your call. Hearing about people who got seduced and brainwashed was fascinating to me. But I used to pretend I was Patty Hearst as a child and play SLA, so ....
Hard to look away from HBO’s horrifying new Michael Jackson documentary, “Leaving Neverland,” in which James Safechuck and Wade Robson describe in intimate detail their yearslong relationships with Michael Jackson, who befriended each of them as young boys then allegedly began using them for his sexual gratification. So many parallels to “Abducted in Plain Sight” -- the grooming, the blatantly inappropriate behavior, the obvious red flags -- only perhaps a bit more understandable how the parents could have been so badly seduced/duped here. Bravo to the two men for coming forward to tell their stories. Part 2 airs tonight.
Watched the Fyre Festival documentary on Netflix over the weekend. I only understood about 10% of what they were talking about -- what’s a Gigi Hadid, Major Lazer, Ja Rule, influencer, etc.? -- but I’m guessing like most of you, the only people I have any sympathy for are the Bahamians who got stiffed for all their hard work. Shouldn’t it have been called “Schadenfreude: The Movie”? I can't for the life of me figure out how we got to a place where people are more interested in how they look online than how happy they are in their real lives, but that's where we are. We'll probably check out the Hulu one at some point. I heard Billy McFarland was paid to sit down for an interview -- not really interested in what a sociopath has to say, but that money had better not have wound up in his pockets -- and that it answers some other questions, although I'm not sure what that could be.
My boyfriend’s takeaway: It’s time to shut down the internet.
P.S. We actually started to try to watch “Get Me Roger Stone” in honor of someone finally getting indicted over Hillary’s emails -- and were considering making an exception on hearing Trump’s voice since it was from before he fraudulently became president -- but then Tucker Carlson popped up on screen and we just couldn’t deal with looking at that frozen-food heiress’s face.
I reckon the Michael Jackson documentary will be next on our list. If *only* there had been some way of knowing something was amiss ...
“Like [alleged victim Wade] Robson, [James] Safechuck says he was instructed by Jackson never to tell anyone about the abuse, which occurred between 1988 and 1992. Safechuck began to think he was gay until he developed a crush on one of Jackson’s backup dancers, Sheryl Crow. But, the complaint says, Jackson was displeased by this and showed Safechuck pictures of Crow without makeup to try to convince the boy she was unattractive.”
Don't normally post these on the weekends, but wanted to see how the four major New York City papers handled Trump's acquiescence. Not at all surprising that the Post couldn't quite bring itself to admit defeat, giving the top spot to a celebrity pedophile of color ...
Not a favorite of mine, although I remember seeing it premiere on a big screen at Newport Station in Costa Mesa, whose Thursday gay night was THE place to go (in Orange County!) back then. I post it today because I read that Rachel Dolezal got a standing ovation after finally admitting she's white yesterday on "The Real." (Hooray for mental illness!)
I can't remember a time in my childhood growing up in the suburbs of Detroit in the 1970s when Jackson music wasn't on the radio. I was very young back then, but every time I think of being in my mom's orange Datsun station wagon I can hear Michael singing "Rockin' Robin." While we all know what a superstar Michael became in the '80s, the songs I remember most fondly are from the mid- to late '70s -- maybe it's because of my age -- during the post-Jermaine "Jacksons" era, like "Enjoy Yourself," "Blame It on the Boogie"and "Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground" (talk about fun music!).
Michael and I watched the memorial yesterday in movie theater full of fans in Chelsea. Michael grew up absolutely adoring Jackson (his first record was a 45 of "I'll Be There" that he had to beg his mother to buy for him at TSS on Long Island -- "Mom, I NEED this"!), so when a Japanese television crew came over to ask him what brought him out to the community screening he spoke eloquently and from the heart about the joy Jackson had brought to him, and the need to be around others who felt the same way. When he declared the moment "the end of an era," I realized how right he was. And then the program began and from the moment Mariah Carey sang the opening words of "I'll Be There," the waterworks began to flow for me and they more or less haven't stopped since. (No one is more surprised than I am by this, but I'm gonna blame it on the boogie.)
While I was expecting a garish affair, I was moved by the relative restraint of it all, and by the many wonderful speakers and stories (Queen Latifah and Berry Gordy in particular, his "questionable decisions" crack aside). Jermaine's rendition of "Smile" and little Paris' impromptu remarks about her dad were the final blows, though, the sobering reminder that whatever the truth is about the way he lived and died, he was still someone's son, brother, uncle and father. Having grown up without my father, I couldn't help but think of the lifetime of memories that have been stolen from those kids forever, and what a lasting impact it will certainly have.
Deep down, I think we'd all be lying if we didn't admit that what became of the sweet boy from Gary, Indiana -- long before his death -- devastated all of us in some way, so maybe this is where the tears are really coming from. But as I have over the past 20 years, I will choose to fondly remember the wunderkind and, for a brief time in the early '80s, the adorable young man he became for the joy he brought us when things were so much more innocent, and before merely looking at him became as uncomfortable for us as it obviously was for him all along. If "Smile" truly was Michael's favorite song, then I figure he would want us to adhere to its sentiment. And with a little help from a friend and Photoshop, that's exactly what I am doing. RIP, Michael J, and thank you for all the smiles. ...
Anderson Cooper says that when he was 10, he went to Studio 54 with Michael Jackson and bunch of other people. (Yikes!) Even Andy thinks Child Protective Services should have a word with mom, Gloria Vanderbilt.