Michael 2026: Review Michael Jackson Movie

Michael Jackson, 5 Decades and Beyond

Born in the 70s and raised in the 80s, I belong to that in-between generation that remembers life before everything became instant, digital, and endlessly scrollable. A true Gen X upbringing meant cassette tapes, MTV on loop, and artists who did not just release music, they defined entire eras. And while Michael Jackson was technically a decade ahead of me, his peak years aligned perfectly with my formative ones. You did not have to be born in his exact timeline to feel his gravity. You just had to be alive when the world revolved around him.

Quick heads up: this review contains a few spoilers, especially around key performances and scenes.

The 1980s were not just a successful decade for Jackson, they were a cultural takeover. With Thriller in 1982, widely recognized as the best-selling album of all time, and Bad in 1987, he did not just dominate charts, he reshaped what pop stardom looked like. Music videos became cinematic events. Dance became storytelling. The “Moonwalk” became mythology. By the time the 90s rolled in with Dangerous and HIStory, his influence had already cemented itself across generations.

Watching Michael in IMAX felt less like viewing a film and more like stepping into a time capsule that somehow still breathes in the present. What struck me immediately, even before the first act fully unfolded, was the audience. It was not just Gen Xers reliving their youth. I saw Millennials, Gen Z groups, and even Gen Alpha kids sitting beside their parents. That alone says something no statistic ever fully captures. Jackson is not nostalgia. He is continuity.

And yet, numbers do tell a compelling story. The film reportedly opened to around $217 to $219 million globally during its first weekend in April 2026, making it the biggest opening ever for a biopic and even surpassing Oppenheimer in opening day performance. That kind of reception is not just about hype. It reflects enduring relevance.

Directed by Antoine Fuqua, the film focuses on Jackson’s life from the late 1960s up to 1988, stopping just before the controversies that would later complicate his public image. It is a deliberate narrative choice, and one that shapes the tone of the entire film. This is not a full cradle-to-legacy biography. It is a portrait of ascent, of talent under pressure, and of brilliance forged under relentless scrutiny.
The story opens in Gary, Indiana, during the late 60s, where a young Michael, portrayed by Juliano Krue Valdi, rehearses tirelessly under the strict discipline of his father, Joe Jackson, played with intensity by Colman Domingo. These early scenes are uncomfortable at times, not because they are overly dramatized, but because they feel grounded. The film does not shy away from the rigid and often harsh environment that shaped the Jackson 5.

When the group transitions into their Motown years under Berry Gordy, played by Larenz Tate, the tone shifts. Suddenly, the grind meets glamour. The Jackson 5’s rise is portrayed with energy, anchored by hits like “I Want You Back” and “I’ll Be There.” These moments are not just musical highlights, they show a young performer learning how to command an audience.

The film truly finds its rhythm in the transition from child star to solo icon. The collaboration with Quincy Jones, portrayed by Kendrick Sampson, becomes a turning point. You feel the shift from controlled family act to independent artistry. The creation of “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough,” “Beat It,” and “Billie Jean” unfolds with a sense of urgency and purpose.
One of the most powerful sequences recreates the 1983 Motown 25 performance of “Billie Jean.” It is here that Jaafar Jackson, making his film debut as Michael, delivers a performance that goes beyond imitation. When the Moonwalk lands, it is not just choreography, it is a moment suspended in time. You already know it is coming, yet it still gives you chills.

And that was my experience throughout the film. There was this unexpected emotional pull from the very beginning. I felt a lump in my throat before I could even rationalize why. Goosebumps. A quiet kind of awe. It is difficult to explain, but it speaks to how deeply Jackson’s presence is embedded in collective memory.

Jaafar Jackson deserves real credit here. He captures the voice, the physicality, and the subtle vulnerability of his uncle. More impressively, he rises to the challenge of embodying one of the greatest dancers in pop culture history, someone whose movements were not just learned but honed to near-perfection through relentless practice. You can see the effort in the precision of the choreography, the sharpness of each beat, and the confidence in his stage presence. He channels not just the steps, but the attitude and aura that made Michael Jackson so magnetic. That said, there were moments where I found myself thinking he could have leaned further into the physical transformation. Michael had a certain ethereal fragility, almost otherworldly. But then again, replicating someone larger than life is an impossible standard.

The film does not just rely on performance, it thrives on music. The official soundtrack, “Michael: Songs from the Motion Picture,” includes 13 tracks that span his career, from Jackson 5 classics like “Who’s Lovin’ You” to solo anthems like “Human Nature” and “Bad.” Beyond that, the film layers in additional songs such as “Smooth Criminal,” “Black or White,” and “Man in the Mirror,” enriching the narrative without overwhelming it.

There are also quieter, more intimate moments that stand out. A scene featuring “I Can’t Help It” plays over a reflective studio sequence. Another uses “Blame It on the Boogie” during a playful interaction involving Bubbles the chimpanzee. These glimpses humanize Jackson, reminding us that behind the spectacle was a person navigating extraordinary circumstances.

One of the film’s most intense sequences revolves around the 1984 Pepsi commercial accident, where Jackson suffered serious burns due to a pyrotechnics malfunction. The scene is handled with restraint, focusing less on shock and more on aftermath. It becomes a turning point, symbolizing both physical and emotional strain.

The narrative builds toward the Bad era, culminating in a grand IMAX-scale recreation of the Wembley Stadium performance. This finale does not try to outdo reality. Instead, it honors it. The scale, the sound, the energy, it all comes together in a way that feels earned.

Naturally, comparisons to Bohemian Rhapsody are inevitable. That film, centered on Freddie Mercury, set a high bar for music biopics, particularly with its Live Aid climax. Rami Malek delivered an Oscar-winning performance that captured Mercury’s flamboyance and vulnerability.
If I am being honest, Bohemian Rhapsody may still edge ahead in terms of narrative structure and emotional payoff. Its Live Aid sequence remains one of the most electrifying finales in recent cinema. It knew exactly where to land.

But Michael does something different. It does not build toward a single defining moment. Instead, it immerses you in a series of defining moments. It is less about one peak and more about understanding the sustained magnitude of Jackson’s career. And perhaps that is why it resonated with me in a deeper, more personal way. From the opening scenes, I felt emotionally anchored. Not because the film demanded it, but because the subject naturally evokes it.

The supporting cast also adds dimension. Nia Long brings warmth and quiet strength to Katherine Jackson. Miles Teller as John Branca and Derek Luke as Johnnie Cochran contribute to the broader picture of the people surrounding Jackson during key moments in his career.

What the film ultimately achieves is balance. It celebrates without blindly glorifying. It acknowledges pressure without turning the story into tragedy. It chooses a specific window in time and explores it with focus.

Walking out of the theater, I found myself reflecting not just on the film, but on the phenomenon itself. How does one artist remain relevant across five decades? How does music created long before streaming still resonate with audiences who have never known a world without it? The answer lies somewhere between talent, timing, and transformation. Michael Jackson was not just a performer. He was an innovator. He understood visual storytelling before it became standard. He treated music videos as short films. He pushed boundaries in ways that artists today still build upon. More importantly, he connected. Across race, across geography, across generations. That is not something you can manufacture. It is something you become.

And that is why the theater felt the way it did. Why different generations sat side by side, reacting to the same moments. Why songs released decades ago still trigger immediate recognition. The magic did not fade. It evolved.

Michael as a film is not perfect. It has pacing issues in parts, and it occasionally leans into safe storytelling choices. But it succeeds where it matters most. It reminds you why Michael Jackson mattered, and why he still does.

For those who lived through his rise, it feels like stepping back into a moment that once defined the world. For those discovering him now, it is a powerful introduction to an artist whose influence still shapes what music, performance, and pop culture look like today. Michael Jackson stands in a class of his own, not bound by era, geography, race, or gender, but elevated by a legacy that continues to unite audiences across every possible divide.

And somewhere in between those perspectives lies the real achievement of the film. It bridges time.

Long live the King of Pop.

Baguio Culinary Tourism: 7th Mangan Taku Cordillera Food Fair 2026

Baguio Culinary Tourism
7th Mangan Taku
Cordillera Food Fair

The Philippines does not ease gently into summer. It shifts, often abruptly, from one extreme to another. Earlier this year, the northeast monsoon, locally known as the amihan, delivered a rare stretch of crisp, cool weather across much of the country. In the highlands, temperatures dipped to unusual lows, with Baguio recording around 10.6°C in January 2026, a reminder of why it has long been the country’s go-to escape from the heat. But by March, the amihan had quietly withdrawn, giving way to a dry season that wasted no time making its presence felt.

By the first week of April, heat index levels in several parts of the Philippines had already surged into the “danger” category, reaching 42°C and above. At that point, stepping outside felt less like a routine errand and more like a test of endurance. The air turned heavy, the sun unforgiving. Naturally, the instinct was to head somewhere cooler, somewhere breathable. So we packed our bags and made our way back to Baguio.

There is something almost ritualistic about escaping to Baguio when the lowlands begin to simmer. Perched over 1,500 meters above sea level, the city offers not just relief from the heat but a complete shift in pace. The air is thinner, fresher, and tinged with the scent of pine. Mornings invite movement, not hesitation. For us, that meant slipping back into our Run-Walk-Run routine, something that feels nearly impossible under the oppressive heat of the plains but becomes almost effortless in Baguio’s cool embrace.

What we did not expect, however, was that our trip would coincide with a vibrant celebration of Cordilleran culture and cuisine. From April 23 to April 27, 2026, Burnham Park played host to the 7th Mangan Taku Cordillera Food Fair, an event that brought together local producers, farmers, and cooks to showcase the rich culinary traditions of the region. It was the kind of serendipitous timing that elevates a simple getaway into something far more memorable.

Baguio has always been known as the Summer Capital of the Philippines, but over the years, it has steadily evolved into something more dynamic. It is increasingly positioning itself as a hub for fitness and wellness, attracting runners, cyclists, and outdoor enthusiasts who take advantage of its terrain and climate. At the same time, the city is embracing culinary tourism, highlighting indigenous ingredients and traditional cooking methods that tell the story of the Cordillera’s diverse communities.

The food fair embodied that shift perfectly. It was not just about eating; it was about understanding. Each stall offered a glimpse into a culture shaped by geography, climate, and tradition. Recipes were not merely prepared, they were preserved, passed down through generations, each bite carrying a piece of history.

One of the highlights for us was finally getting to try a dish that had eluded us on a previous visit. Back in June 2024, we had planned to dine at Farmer’s Daughter, a well-known spot in Baguio, specifically to try pinuneg, a traditional blood sausage associated with the Ibaloi people. Unfortunately, the restaurant had been closed at the time, and the experience had to be postponed.

Pinunog

This time, however, the food fair introduced us to something both familiar and new: pinunog, sometimes spelled pinunnog. At first glance, it might seem similar to pinuneg, but the two are distinct in both ingredients and preparation. Pinuneg is made using pig’s blood combined with fat and spices, resulting in a rich, earthy sausage. Pinunog, on the other hand, takes a different approach. It is a bloodless sausage made from pork entrails and fat, carefully seasoned and then smoked to develop its signature flavor. It is widely considered a specialty of Ifugao cuisine.

The vendor, an Ifugao woman who spoke with quiet pride about her product, described pinunog as a versatile ingredient, almost like a local version of Chinese chorizo. It can be incorporated into a variety of dishes, adding depth and smokiness. She suggested mixing it into fried rice, using it to enrich monggo stew, or adding slices to pinikpikan, a traditional Cordilleran chicken soup known for its distinctive preparation method and deeply savory broth.

Of course, pinunog can also stand on its own. Simply fried and served with rice, it delivers a satisfying combination of smoky, fatty, and slightly chewy textures. We decided to take some home, purchasing a vacuum-packed portion for ₱450. The vendor assured us that it could last up to a month when properly stored in the refrigerator or freezer, making it not just a souvenir but an extension of the experience.

Hanging Etag

Another standout at the fair was itag, also spelled etag or e-tag, a staple in many Cordilleran households. If pinunog is subtle and versatile, itag is bold and unapologetic. Made from pork that is heavily salted and then either air-dried or smoked, itag is often hung in strips, giving it a distinctive appearance that immediately draws attention.
Considered the indigenous counterpart to ham or bacon, itag carries an intense flavor profile that reflects its preservation process. It is commonly used in traditional dishes such as pinikpikan and other regional stews, where its saltiness and depth enhance the overall taste of the dish. Seeing rows of itag hanging at the stalls was both fascinating and grounding, a reminder of how food practices evolve out of necessity and environment.

The fair also offered lighter, more unexpected treats. Among them were wines made from honey, often referred to as mead. These locally produced beverages showcased another dimension of Cordilleran ingenuity, transforming simple, natural ingredients into something celebratory. The sellers even offered free shot samples, but it is best not to try everything all at once, the label shows about 12% alcohol by volume.

What made the experience particularly meaningful was the direct connection to the people behind the food. These were not mass-produced items stripped of context. Each product came with a story, each seller eager to share not just how something was made but why it mattered. In a time when convenience often overshadows authenticity, events like the Mangan Taku Cordillera Food Fair serve as important reminders of the value of tradition.

Beyond the food, the fair contributed to a larger effort to support local tourism and sustain regional economies. By drawing visitors and encouraging them to engage with local products, it helps create opportunities for small-scale producers and artisans. It is a form of tourism that feels more responsible, more connected, and ultimately more rewarding.

As our trip unfolded, it became clear that Baguio offers more than just a reprieve from the heat. It offers layers of experience. You can start your morning with a brisk run through pine-lined roads, spend your afternoon exploring local markets, and end your day discovering flavors that you will not easily find elsewhere.

The timing of our visit could not have been better. While much of the country grappled with soaring temperatures, we found ourselves in a place where the air invited movement and the culture invited curiosity. The contrast was striking, almost surreal.
For those considering a similar escape, the window for experiencing the Mangan Taku Cordillera Food Fair runs until April 27. It is an opportunity not just to cool down but to immerse yourself in a region that continues to redefine what it means to travel meaningfully within the Philippines.
In the end, what stayed with us was not just the cooler weather or even the food itself, but the sense of connection. Connection to place, to people, and to traditions that continue to thrive despite the rapid pace of modern life. Baguio may still be known as the Summer Capital, but it is steadily carving out a reputation as something far richer, a destination where wellness, culture, and cuisine come together in ways that feel both grounded and inspiring.

Cafe Ilang Ilang Buffet at The Manila Hotel 2026 Review: Is It Worth It?

It had been a while since I last wandered through this side of Manila, where history lingers in the air and every corner seems to hold a story. This visit brought me to The Manila Hotel, not just for nostalgia, but to finally try the much talked about Cafe Ilang Ilang buffet. This iconic dining spot is housed within the historic hotel right beside Rizal Park, near Kilometer Zero, and within easy reach of Intramuros and the National Museum of the Philippines, making it as central as it is storied.

There is something about arriving at The Manila Hotel that feels like stepping into a different era. Opened in 1912 during the American colonial period, it was designed to rival the finest hotels in Asia. Over the decades, it has welcomed dignitaries, celebrities, and heads of state , enduring wars, restorations, and the passage of time with its reputation intact. It remains a proud showcase of early 20th century colonial era architecture, enhanced with Filipino design elements and ingenuity, making it more than just a place to stay. It is a living piece of history. And on this visit, the focus was clear, to experience the Cafe Ilang Ilang buffet and see if it truly lives up to its long standing prominence.

Before heading to the restaurant, we lingered in the hotel’s famed lobby, a space that has long been admired for its Filipiniana charm. The intricate woodwork, capiz shell chandeliers, and richly detailed ceilings immediately draw the eye. The dark polished wood, possibly narra or something equally enduring, gives the space a sense of depth and heritage that modern interiors often struggle to replicate. At the center of it all sits the grand piano, framed by white colonnades and gleaming marble floors. A resident pianist plays daily, filling the space with soft, elegant melodies that echo through the hall. It feels cinematic, reminiscent of a bygone era of refined travel and leisurely afternoons. There is a certain Titanic-like glamour to it, minus the impending doom of course. Just pure nostalgia wrapped in music and architecture.

 
That said, not everything in the lobby lives up to its historic prestige. Some of the sofas appear worn, with visible signs of age and lack of upkeep. While age can certainly add character, there is a fine line between charmingly vintage and simply neglected. Cleanliness and proper maintenance should never be compromised, regardless of how old or historic a property may be. The same can be said for the ladies’ room, which falls short of what one would expect from a five star establishment.

Still, the experience is not without its highlights. One pleasant surprise during our visit was the ongoing HATCH 2026 Art Exhibit, an annual initiative by Manila Bulletin. Now in its eighth edition, the exhibit carries the theme “Contemporary Visions, Timeless Elegance” and is currently displayed at the hotel’s grand lobby. The exhibit features acrylic eggs transformed into intricate works of art, each piece telling a unique story rooted in culture, identity, and creativity. It is vibrant, thought provoking, and best of all, free to the public until May 22, 2026. It adds a refreshing layer of contemporary artistry to the hotel’s classic setting, proving that tradition and modern expression can coexist beautifully.

From the lobby, we made our way to Cafe Ilang-Ilang. The restaurant itself presents a more contemporary ambiance compared to the rest of the hotel, though it still carries subtle nods to Filipino design. The lighting is excellent, bright enough for both dining and photography, which is always a win for those who enjoy documenting their meals. The air conditioning is also commendable, especially in Manila’s unforgiving heat.

One charming detail is the ilang-ilang flower inspired decor suspended from the ceiling. Its mustard hue interestingly matches the uniforms of the waitstaff, who are dressed in Filipiniana attire, with the women in saya and the men in barong. It creates a cohesive visual theme that feels thoughtfully curated rather than forced.

Guests are welcomed and seated even before the buffet officially opens at 11:30 in the morning, which is a thoughtful touch. It allows diners, particularly bloggers and vloggers, to take photos and explore the space without the usual rush. It is a small gesture, but one that makes a big difference in the overall experience.
Service is another strong point. The waitstaff are attentive, approachable, and efficient. Tables are cleared promptly, and requests are handled with ease. It is the kind of service that makes you feel taken care of without being intrusive, which is exactly what one hopes for in a setting like this.

Now, onto the main event, the buffet.

Cafe Ilang-Ilang is known for offering a wide array of international cuisines, with multiple stations representing different culinary traditions. From Filipino favorites to Japanese, Italian, and more, the selection is extensive enough to satisfy a variety of cravings.

One standout for me is the lechon, which easily takes center stage as the star of the spread. Perfectly roasted with crisp skin and flavorful meat, it delivers exactly what one expects from a good lechon experience. It is the kind of dish you keep coming back to, even when you tell yourself you should be trying other things.

However, navigating the buffet can be a bit of a challenge. The stations are spread out across different corners of the restaurant, which means it is quite easy to miss certain items unless you make a conscious effort to explore every section. Going back for a specific dish can also feel like a bit of a trek, especially if your table is located far from that particular station. While the variety is commendable, the layout could benefit from a more intuitive flow. A buffet, after all, should feel abundant but also accessible. When dishes are too scattered, it disrupts the dining rhythm and can make the experience feel slightly less seamless.
In terms of overall quality, the food is good, though not particularly groundbreaking. It meets expectations, but does not necessarily exceed them. Given the reputation of The Manila Hotel, one might anticipate something more elevated or memorable.

Still, there is value in the experience itself. Dining at Cafe Ilang-Ilang is not just about the food, but also about the setting, the service, and the history that surrounds it. It is about taking a moment to enjoy a slower, more refined pace in a city that rarely pauses.

All things considered, the buffet at Cafe Ilang-Ilang is enjoyable, though perhaps not as grand as one might expect from such an iconic hotel. It is worth trying at least once, especially for those who appreciate a mix of heritage and dining in one setting.

As for us, this visit feels like the beginning of a rediscovery. Next on the list is a proper exploration of the National Museum, followed by a return to Binondo for another round of food adventures. Because if there is one thing Manila never runs out of, it is places to eat and stories to tell.