Jacko, His Rise and Fall: The Social and Sexual History of Michael Jackson (36 page)

BOOK: Jacko, His Rise and Fall: The Social and Sexual History of Michael Jackson
7.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"I always remember the song you sang," Michael said, obviously in awe.

"You're All the World to Me," Astaire said. "I remember it well."

Long after he gave up dancing in public, Astaire still put on private shows,
as he did one night for Michael. He sat at his drums and pounded out some
rhythms, before getting up and performing a few dance steps for Michael.

"Better watch out!" Michael warned. "I'll steal those steps from you too."

"Feel free," Astaire said. "At my age, I'm glad to be walking."

Michael confessed that he used to sit in front of his television, using his
video cassette's stop-and-rewind switches to dissect every dance step his mentor made.

"I stole that idea of going up on my toes from those classic movies you
made back in the 30s," Michael told Astaire.

"Those were the days," Astaire said with a touch of nostalgia.

"Anybody who can sing and dance at the same time-and do both wellis pretty darned good," Astaire said. "And that's what Michael does."

Michael would later be nominated for an Emmy Award in the musical category. Even though he lost to Leontyne Price, he felt Astaire's compliment
took away some of the sting of defeat.

When Michael's so-called autobiography, Moonwalk, was published, he
dedicated it to Fred Astaire.

After Astaire's death in 1987, and when Michael was preparing his 1988
Moonwalker, a full-length feature film, he received a major disappointment.
Michael choreographed a dance sequence in which he'd superimpose himself
onto one of Astaire's films, becoming in essence the dancer's Ginger Rogers.
It was a brilliant idea and would have made for a first-rate film memory. But
the female jockey who Astaire married at the end of his life, Robyn Smith,
refused to give Michael permission to use the footage.

When Sarah Giles composed her collection of remembrances about
Astaire, she asked Michael to contribute. In Fred Astaire. His Friends Talk,
Michael wrote: "I could only repeat what has been said and written about Fred
Astaire's perfectionism and enormous, one-of-a-kind artistry. What I can
reflect on is the inspiration he afforded me personally, being privileged as I
was to see him work his magic. Nobody could duplicate Mr. Astaire's ability,
but what I never stop trying to emulate is his total discipline, his absolute dedication to every aspect of his art. He rehearsed, rehearsed, and rehearsed some
more, until he got it just the way he wanted it. It was Fred Astaire's work ethic
that few people ever discussed and even fewer could ever hope to equal."

In the 1980s, many critics and writers called Michael the Fred Astaire of
his era. Such a tribute was expressed by Sandy Duncan in People Extra: "Fred
Astaire was to that era and that music, the way the music moved through him
in the 30s, what Michael Jackson is to this era. You could put him behind a
scrim and see his silhouette and you'd know who he was. It's like he's got a
direct connection to God, because those moves just come from within him and through the music."

In the wake of Astaire's approval, Michael's
other idol, Gene Kelly, also paid him a visit at
Encino. Michael estimated that he must have
watched Kelly dance with the cartoon figures, Tom
& Jerry, at least a hundred times in the 1945 film,
Anchors Aweigh.

Gene Kelly

In time Kelly would return the compliment,
filming a taped tribute to Michael for his self-serving lovefest broadcast on Showtime cable TV.

Kelly enthralled Michael with his insider show business stories, admitting, "I wasn't nice to Debbie-it's a wonder she still speaks to me." He was
referring to working with Debbie Reynolds on the 1952 Singin'in the Rain.
Michael told Kelly that he thought this was the greatest movie musical of all
time.

He warned Michael that if he ever became a musical star in films, he
should get used to being overlooked by The Academy. "It's a form of snobbism," Kelly said. "Members feel that drama is more deserving of awards than
comedy."

Michael complimented Kelly on his all-ballet film, Invitation to the
Dance. "I was never allowed to complete the picture," Kelly said. "The plug
was pulled on me. The version released in 1956 was never finished. I was furious. Of course, I got disastrous notices. I took to bed for three weeks."

He blamed the director, Vincente Minnelli, for the disappointing
Brigadoon, released in 1954. "You see, Vincente was in love with me .. .
always was. When you're in love, you can't be objective as a director."

Kelly expressed his regret at his treatment of Judy Garland during the
shooting of The Pirate in 1948. "She and Vincente were breaking up, and she
was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and the beginning of a long and protracted illness," Kelly said. "Vincente didn't help matters by spending all his
time in my dressing room panting after me like a puppy dog."

Michael appeared shocked at these revelations.

Kelly warned Michael, "Don't get carried away with your own brilliance
in the studio. Both Vincente and I thought The Pirate was going to be the
greatest musical of all time. At least we thought that for forty-eight hours.
Perhaps only six people in America understood where we were going. In fact,
Vincente kissed and licked my toes in gratitude for the performance I gave."

Before departing, Kelly told Michael: "So many men-women, toohave fallen for me. Judy herself, Peter Lawford. Noel Coward. Every chorus
boy I've ever danced with developed a crush on me. As a lover, I never
returned love. An artist can only love himself, and I'm sure you agree."

"How do you cope with all those gay rumors," Michael said. "They say
bad things about me. That I'm a homosexual, and I'm not! How do you
answer such questions?"

"Enigmatically," Kelly responded. "I tell my inquisitors that I'm not gay.
Merely an Irish leprechaun. There's a difference you know."

At the door, Kelly gave Michael a warm embrace and a theatrical kiss.
"You're going to be king in the 80s. For Fred and me, there's not much left
except accepting lifetime achievement awards."

"Can you believe it?" Michael endlessly asked of anyone even remotely
concerned. "The great Fred Astaire, the great Gene Kelly told me that I was
just as great a dancer as they were in their prime. What can any future award
mean to me when I get praise like that?"

Astaire and Kelly might approve of Michael, but not the members of his
church, The Jehovah's Witnesses.

Michael might have tried to appease members of Jehovah's Witnesses and
distance himself from Thriller, but he wasn't going to let the fanatical religious sect deter "me from the greatest night of my life." He showed up at the
1984 Grammy Awards to receive all those accolades for Thriller, and it would
mark the pinnacle of his career. It would also turn into one of his most infamous appearances, launching him on the long road toward a forever tarnished
reputation.

When Michael walked into the auditorium to receive his Grammys, he
had child star Emmanuel Lewis on his left and the beautiful Brooke Shields
on his right. The trio was, in the words of Walter Yetnikoff, "a menage a trois
to make the Marquis de Sade blush."

"I didn't get destroyed by the press and fan mania and neither will Michael. He's very talented. He knows how to make
records that people like. But he's a very straightforward kid.
He has a great deal of faith. He's got a great deal of innocence
and he protects that especially. Michael looks at cartoons all
day and keeps away from drugs. That's how he maintains his
innocence. "

--Paul McCartney

"I did it as a favor. I didn't want nothing. Maybe Michael will
give me dance lessons some day. I was a complete fool,
according to the rest of the band and our manager and everybody else. "

--Eddie Van Halen, on playing 'Beat It' for free

"No dope-oriented album ever sold as much as Thriller, and
no vulgar artist ever became so famous as Michael has. "

--The Rev. Jesse Jackson

"Thank God for Elizabeth Taylor. She protected me."

--Michael Jackson

"He wasn't ever really interested in money. I'd give him his
share of the night's earnings and the next day he'd buy ice
cream or candy for all the kids in the neighborhood. "

--Papa Joe Jackson

"My Lord, he's a wonderful mover. He makes these moves up
himself and it's just great to watch. Michael is a dedicated
artist. He dreams and thinks of it all the time. "

--Fred Astaire

 
Chapter Seven

The Grammy Awards in 1984 alerted keen observers to Michael's interest
in young boys. In his future, these boys-with an occasional exceptionwould be white. Not so Emmanuel Lewis, an African-American who was born
in Brooklyn in 1971, which made him thirteen years old when Michael took
him and Brooke Shields as his "dates" to the Grammys.

Michael met the pint-sized actor-known at the time as "The Tallest 40
Inches in Hollywood"-at an awards ceremony. They became intense friends,
a relationship that would last for many years. It was another odd coupling for
Michael. Lewis was rumored to be a midget,
but endocrinologists claimed he had all the
potential for normal growth.

Speculation about the relationship became
rampant when Michael and Lewis appeared in
public dressed alike. They spent many happy
hours even days-together. When Lewis
went somewhere with Michael, he was often
mistaken for Gary Coleman, the Diff'rent
Strokes TV child star. Both of these performers are short, African-American in origin, and
had starred in sitcoms about trans-racial adoptions.

Emmanuel Lewis

Lewis was twelve years old when his sitcom, Webster, premiered in 1983. The series
finale would come just one day after his 18th
birthday. Michael was a faithful fan of the
series.

Before hitting it big on Webster, Lewis
had starred in TV commercials, hawking fruit juice, glue, soup, toys, stereos, coffee, puddings, pizzas, and Burger King. He
told reporters, "Though I'm still little, my heart and dreams are as big as ever."

It was during the making of those TV commercials that Michael became
"smitten" (La Toya's words) with Lewis. Brazenly, Michael called the talent
agent, Margaret Lewis, the young actor's mother, and asked her permission to
allow her son to spend time at Hayvenhurst. Not suspicious at the time, she
seemed delighted that a big star like Michael had expressed an interest in her
son.

It was all fun and games, as they wrestled on the lawn at Encino, played
cowboys and Indians, or petted the animals, including the boa constrictor,
"Muscles," in Michael's zoo. Michael claimed that although boa constrictors
could not devour the average person whole, Lewis was "just the right size for
a tasty snack." In response, the child actor would run screaming into the
house. Much time was spent in Michael's darkened bedroom watching
movies. Sleepovers-later to become a notorious fixture in Michael's lifefollowed.

Steve Howell, who became Michael's unofficial videographer, captured
on film many intimate moments between Lewis and Michael. "Yes, hugging
and the most intimate cuddling," Howell was quoted as saying. "It's all on
home video."

In March of 2005, In Touch Weekly, a tabloid, shocked Michael's fans by
publishing a photograph of him, along with Lewis, lying in bed sucking on the
nipples of baby bottles. "How retro!" a fan wrote Michael. "How could you?
Talk about trying to relive your second childhood."

When he turned thirteen, Lewis received a diamond-and-gold "friendship" bracelet from Michael that allegedly cost $15,000. "It weighed more
than Emmanuel did," said a Jackson family member. This was a great exaggeration, of course, but at the time, Lewis weighed only forty pounds.

Michael was twenty-five years old
when he launched this strange friendship with a boy about half his age. Some
family members, including La Toya,
were often embarrassed by the whispering and giggling between the two, but
Michael refused to talk about Lewis and
asked that the Jacksons not probe into
his personal relationships.

Other books

El barón rampante by Italo Calvino
There Will Always Be a Max by Michael R. Underwood
Devil-Devil by G.W. Kent
Judicial Whispers by Caro Fraser
Cold by Bill Streever
Life's A Cappella by Yessi Smith
Love Elimination by Sarah Gates