decided to split:“I just told Joseph, ‘Man, I’m tired, I gotta go.’ I was pretty much just tired of him .” Johnny Jackson, whose name had appeared on the Jackson 5 drum kit in the early days, followed soon afterward.
Michael made it explicitly clear he wanted no part of the TV show.“I hated every minute,” he said. He told his father it was a big mistake. “On the show our sets were sloppy, the lighting was often poor and our choreography was rushed, ” he said. Watching episodes of the yearlong half-hour hit show from 1976 and 1977, it’s hard to comprehend that Michael felt so negatively about the experience. His evident joy seems impossible to fake in his dancing. In a segment with a deliberately clumsy Dom DeLuise, Michael and his brothers reprise a popping-and-locking bit from Soul Train , complete with obnoxiously loud patternedoutfits, flat caps, and striped knickers. Michael pulls off one extraordinary sequence in which he does the Robot, spins, mimes rope pulling, kicks his leg Damita Jo Freeman style, and splays out his knees. Marlon follows with the splits, and his moves are smooth, but, as ever, he’s no match for his brother. One of the most humorous recurring themes of the show is during a segment called “On the Wall,” when guests attempt to dance with an inviting MJ. They seem to realize on the spot, in front of cameras, that it’s harder than it looks. Young, beautiful Lynda “Wonder Woman” Carter tries, but comes off square in the process. Comic Redd Foxx takes the more effective approach—he gamely half steps with MJ for a second, then wordlessly concludes, “Ah, to hell with it,” as he gives up and watches Michael instead.
“Aw, he loved it. He had his own quick spins and his own special moves,” says Bill Davis, the show’s director and producer, retired and in his eighties. “But there’s something about his body style, too—he was so slender, and he seemed to do it effortlessly. That went back to his constant study of Fred Astaire. He just endlessly practiced.”
In his whispery voice, Michael delivered commands to Davis on the set. For one dance sequence, he demanded a Western-style saloon so he could dress as a cowboy (not like John Wayne, exactly—he wore a blue-and-white fringed shirt, yellow chaps, and a white scarf, with a Stetson atop his Afro). Davis’s designers built a stylized TV background, but Michael hated it. “That isn’t a Western saloon!” he blubbered. Davis tried to calm him down: “What’s a Western saloon to you?” Michael declared, “Like the one in Gunsmoke !”—with solid walls and a solid bar to dance on. In a funk, the singer retreated to his dressing room. Davis had to coax him out.
The moves Michael picked up and worked out during the Jacksons series were pivotal to his dance development. But Michael declaimed the show to the end. “Michael hasn’t wanted that series to surface in any way,” Davis says. “Because it was the old Michael. It was his old face—before he had any adjustments made. He didn’t want that comparison.Any retrospectives of the Jacksons definitely avoid that particular series.”
But The Jacksons had a profound impact.“Huge influence,” rapper-turned-actress Queen Latifah would tell late-night star David Letterman, who had himself appeared on the Jacksons’ show as a satirical sportscaster. “This is where you realize, like, ‘Wow, you can make it onto television. . . . Black people, young like me, little girls, boys: we can do this.’ ”
* * *
The Wiz came along at a perfect time for Berry Gordy and Motown Records. To finish Lady Sings the Blues , Gordy had to sink in $2 million of his own money because Paramount’s top executive, Frank Yablans, had told him the maximum a studio could spend on a black film at the time was$500,000.“This is not a black film, ” Gordy corrected him. “This is a film with black stars. ” There were clashes on the set, as star Diana Ross made
Michael made it explicitly clear he wanted no part of the TV show.“I hated every minute,” he said. He told his father it was a big mistake. “On the show our sets were sloppy, the lighting was often poor and our choreography was rushed, ” he said. Watching episodes of the yearlong half-hour hit show from 1976 and 1977, it’s hard to comprehend that Michael felt so negatively about the experience. His evident joy seems impossible to fake in his dancing. In a segment with a deliberately clumsy Dom DeLuise, Michael and his brothers reprise a popping-and-locking bit from Soul Train , complete with obnoxiously loud patternedoutfits, flat caps, and striped knickers. Michael pulls off one extraordinary sequence in which he does the Robot, spins, mimes rope pulling, kicks his leg Damita Jo Freeman style, and splays out his knees. Marlon follows with the splits, and his moves are smooth, but, as ever, he’s no match for his brother. One of the most humorous recurring themes of the show is during a segment called “On the Wall,” when guests attempt to dance with an inviting MJ. They seem to realize on the spot, in front of cameras, that it’s harder than it looks. Young, beautiful Lynda “Wonder Woman” Carter tries, but comes off square in the process. Comic Redd Foxx takes the more effective approach—he gamely half steps with MJ for a second, then wordlessly concludes, “Ah, to hell with it,” as he gives up and watches Michael instead.
“Aw, he loved it. He had his own quick spins and his own special moves,” says Bill Davis, the show’s director and producer, retired and in his eighties. “But there’s something about his body style, too—he was so slender, and he seemed to do it effortlessly. That went back to his constant study of Fred Astaire. He just endlessly practiced.”
In his whispery voice, Michael delivered commands to Davis on the set. For one dance sequence, he demanded a Western-style saloon so he could dress as a cowboy (not like John Wayne, exactly—he wore a blue-and-white fringed shirt, yellow chaps, and a white scarf, with a Stetson atop his Afro). Davis’s designers built a stylized TV background, but Michael hated it. “That isn’t a Western saloon!” he blubbered. Davis tried to calm him down: “What’s a Western saloon to you?” Michael declared, “Like the one in Gunsmoke !”—with solid walls and a solid bar to dance on. In a funk, the singer retreated to his dressing room. Davis had to coax him out.
The moves Michael picked up and worked out during the Jacksons series were pivotal to his dance development. But Michael declaimed the show to the end. “Michael hasn’t wanted that series to surface in any way,” Davis says. “Because it was the old Michael. It was his old face—before he had any adjustments made. He didn’t want that comparison.Any retrospectives of the Jacksons definitely avoid that particular series.”
But The Jacksons had a profound impact.“Huge influence,” rapper-turned-actress Queen Latifah would tell late-night star David Letterman, who had himself appeared on the Jacksons’ show as a satirical sportscaster. “This is where you realize, like, ‘Wow, you can make it onto television. . . . Black people, young like me, little girls, boys: we can do this.’ ”
* * *
The Wiz came along at a perfect time for Berry Gordy and Motown Records. To finish Lady Sings the Blues , Gordy had to sink in $2 million of his own money because Paramount’s top executive, Frank Yablans, had told him the maximum a studio could spend on a black film at the time was$500,000.“This is not a black film, ” Gordy corrected him. “This is a film with black stars. ” There were clashes on the set, as star Diana Ross made
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