Watching Michael Again

I watched  Michael for the second time recently.

The first time I watched it, I was in awe. I was amazed by the music, the dancing, the energy and how incredibly Jaafar carried Michael’s presence so naturally that at moments, it truly felt like Michael himself was on screen again.

But the second time felt different. This time, I felt more sadness. Perhaps because I already knew the story and my heart had more space to feel the person behind the performer. 

The brilliance, the pressure, the loneliness, the sensitivity… all of it and the fragility that sometimes exists behind greatness… :( 

And yet, strangely, I also left the cinema feeling like I had attended one of Michael Jackson’s concerts. The music vibrating through the theatre, the iconic performances, the crowd energy, the emotions…it felt immersive. 

For a few hours, it was almost as if time folded and a part of Michael came alive again through memory, music and storytelling. 

And maybe that is why people like Michael, never truly leave. They remain through what they made us feel.

I also realised something today; 

watching a movie alone can sometimes be deeply comforting. No conversations during emotional scenes. No distractions. Just me, the music, the memories and the emotions quietly unfolding in the dark cinema hall.

And honestly? I wouldn’t mind watching it a third time. Because…some stories are not only watched, they are felt differently each time.