Sometimes a show isn’t just a show, it’s a brilliant collision of magic, memory, precision, and soul. Something electric. Something that hums in your chest and lingers long after the curtain falls. ‘MJ The Musical’ is exactly that.
From the moment it begins, the energy is almost impossible to put into words. There’s a reason Michael Jackson becomes one of the most iconic figures in human history – his music, his movement, his voice. . . All of it lives on here with a kind of reverence that feels both powerful and intimate.
The songs are legendary, of course. But what makes this production extraordinary is how seamlessly everything moves together – the choreography, the staging, the lighting, the set. It flows like a favourite memory unfolding. Moving from depictions of his childhood into the high-pressure world of the ‘Dangerous’ World Tour rehearsals, it never once feels disjointed. It feels alive. It somehow makes you feel like you are actually there.
And then there is Michael. Played at three distinct ages by three incredibly talented performers.
The weight of that role is almost unimaginable. To not just portray, but embody someone so globally recognised, so deeply imprinted in our collective psyche, it feels nearly impossible. And yet, somehow, it is done.
Close your eyes – you hear him. Open them – you see him move. Watch closely and you feel him.
Without a performer who can truly become THE Michael Jackson, this show wouldn’t work. With Ilario Grant in the main role, it transcends.
But each Michael deserves praise. Kayleb Alese as child Michael and Liam Damons as Michael as he begins his solo career. Both sound uncannily like Michael at those ages. Both move like Michael. Both inhabit his energy.
But truly showcasing a jaw-dropping embodiment is the older Michael, the version who wears silk shirts and tight black pants with his signature ponytail. Ilario Grant becomes that Michael.
The star of the show, however, is nothing without every other element to match him.
The creators David Holcenberg and Jason Michael Webb dream up something special, something artistic and something which feels new and vibrant. Looking at Michael’s past through a curious and kind lens allows his story to be told in a way which focuses on his inner world, the way his childhood impacts every decision he makes and how he lives his life.
For a musical, without cohesive choreography to bring it all together, it doesn’t matter how talented the cast and crew are – it can’t become great. That is not the case here, with Director and Choreographer Christopher Wheeldon melding all the elements in this show together, waving a wand and casting a spell to weave everything into an explosion of joy and nostalgia.
The cast itself is spectacular, with flawless timing, beautiful movement and a contagious excitement, and the sound, lighting and production design all add essential elements to make everything come alive.
It’s a long show – nearly three hours – but it passes in what feels like a blink of an eye. There are 40 songs performed, some exactly as you remember, and some with new arrangements. Without spoiling anything by naming specific numbers, there are moments in the show where the audience audibly gasps out loud, cheers or sobs. It is hard to name a show which calls forward such strong reactions from such a large crowd.
On top of the inimitable music, the costumes are striking, detailed, iconic. The dancers are razor-sharp and magnetic. The live band on stage adds a pulse you can feel in your body.
What lingers most, though, is the story itself. It doesn’t shy away from the complexity of Michael’s past – it leans into it. It offers glimpses into the pressures, the expectations, the shaping of a child into a legend. . . And how that echoes into the man he becomes. His drive. His perfectionism. His relentless need to keep going at any cost.
Visually, it’s stunning.
One moment you’re in a stripped-back rehearsal room – raw, focused, intimate. The next, you’re plunged into spectacle: the wild theatricality of the ‘Dangerous’ Tour, the haunting world of ‘Thriller’ and the retro family feel of the Jackson 5 era.
It all expands and contracts like breathing.
This is not just a musical. It’s an experience. A remembering. A resurrection, almost.
And when it ends, you don’t quite leave it behind. It lingers like a rhythm still playing somewhere deep inside you.
