“And I Wonder Who’s Loving You?”

I used to sing those lyrics every day after school and every weekend for years. They came from the smash hit Who’s Loving You? by the Jackson 5, featured on their first album. I received that record for my fifth birthday, about a year after the Jackson 5 burst onto the scene and into all of our lives.

That group had everything I loved as a child—a sound unlike anything else, infectious energy, and dance moves I studied and tried my best to copy. My love affair with choreography started early, and if you’ve read some of my other Kiki creations, you already know that.

Today at 2:45, Jules and I settled into Row J, Seats 16 and 17, to watch Michael—the new film centered on the early chapters of Michael Jackson’s life and career. I’ll watch a movie anywhere, but put me in a real theater—with surround sound, popcorn, and a large Diet Coke—and I’m instantly transported into the screen for a bird’s-eye view of the story.

Michael was portrayed by his nephew, Jafar Jackson (Jermaine’s son, for those who may need a refresher on the famous family tree). You can Google…go ahead. I’ll wait.

The movie offered an intimate glimpse into what many of us had heard whispered through the years and sometimes confirmed by Michael himself: he was treated terribly by his father. The abuse was heartbreaking. The film showed how Michael escaped those realities by immersing himself in old comedy films, cartoons, and fantasy. His love of Peter Pan and the inspiration behind Neverland were woven into that narrative.

And before anyone wonders—if you’re looking for commentary on the more controversial chapters of his life, you won’t find it here. There’s no room for speculation in these lines. What I am here to say is simple: I remain in awe of Michael’s talent, and he was undeniably an icon of my generation.

The movie was bold, emotional, and brilliantly done. Jules mentioned that many legal matters were never fully resolved, which meant several important figures in Michael’s life were left out entirely. Names like Diana Ross and his sister Janet were among those absent from the storyline.

As the movie moved forward, I found myself vividly remembering what it was like to watch Michael rise—not just as a star, but as an artist who became larger than life.

His music is stitched into the fabric of my memories.

His early solo songs played while I roller-skated each week. Later, hits like Bad and P.Y.T. filled bars and clubs during and after my college years. In August of 1984, I sat in the nosebleed seats at Madison Square Garden for the Victory Tour. Michael—and his brothers—were electric. I can still feel the pulse of that crowd, my seat vibrating, and the floor shaking as people danced in the aisles.

Near the end of the film, I glanced to my right and saw Jules beaming.

She grew up on Michael Jackson because of me.

One of the funniest stories from Chez Fikar goes back to the days of the Wii. There was a game called The Michael Jackson Experience, built entirely around recreating Michael’s choreography. You danced with the remote, and the game scored you based on how accurate your moves were.

My daughter, being the fiercely competitive child she was then (and, I maintain, still is), was endlessly frustrated because she could never beat my score.

One day I finally told her:

“Face it. This is my music, and I lived it years before you came along!”

So now, watching Jules bop along to those same songs as an adult is more gratifying than I can put into words.

There will be no spoilers here.

There is talk of another film covering the later chapters of Michael’s life being released next year. I’m not sure I’d want to see that one.

That would mean revisiting the day the world learned of Michael’s passing—June 25, 2009.

I can’t.

Honestly… I never can say goodbye to Michael.