Michael Jackson_ The Magic, the Madness, the Whole Story, 1958-2009 Part 17

'They haven't named it yet,' King answered.

'Excuse me, but yes, we have,' Marlon cut in. 'We're calling it the Victory tour.'

'So there you have it, ladies and gentleman,' Don proclaimed. 'That is the name of the tour. The Victory tour. And what a heck of a name that is, too.'

'And what's the point of this tour?' someone else asked.

'The tour will mean that the brothers are getting together once again,' Jermaine said, 'to unite and work close with each other, to show the world that we can make everybody happy. And everybody in the whole world will unite as one, because we want to bring this together in peace for everyone,' he concluded, making about as much sense as Don King.

'Why can't Michael say more?' asked another reporter.

'Uh, well...' Don shot a look at Michael. Michael shook his head emphatically, no. 'He, uh, his voice is a problem because he has been working so hard singing those songs and makin' all those hit records,' said Don. 'He will not be able to continue talking now. Isn't that right, Michael?'

Michael seemed to glare at the promoter behind his shades.

Later, Was.h.i.+ngton reporters Maxwell Glen and Cody Shearer would dub the event 'one of media history's most abominable press conferences, ever.' Another observer called The Jacksons' tour 'The Nitro Tour', explaining that 'at any minute the whole thing is gonna blow sky-high.'

Michael had arranged to have the press conference video-taped. A few hours after it was mercifully over, he, John Branca and a few other trusted a.s.sociates watched the tape in Michael's suite at the Helmsley Palace. 'It's a mess, isn't it?' was Michael's verdict.

John observed that Don King was actually the star of the show, and that The Jacksons had been 'some kind of sideshow'.

'Well, that really stinks, doesn't it?' Michael said, angrily. 'We gotta show this tape to the brothers.'

Michael then called a meeting in his room. Jackie, t.i.to, Jermaine, Marlon and Randy showed up within minutes. After the press conference, even they had their doubts about Don King. 'Look at this terrible thing,' Michael said, putting in the video tape.

'What's wrong with you guys?' Michael wanted to know after the tape finished. 'Can't you see that this man is using us? This is the Don King show, and The Jacksons are an opening act. Can't you see how bad this looks?'

'You're right, Michael,' Jackie said, shaking his head in despair. 'The guy is a complete jerk.'

'Unbelievable,' Jermaine agreed. 'Mike is right. I've never been so embarra.s.sed. That was bad, real bad.'

The rest of the brothers agreed. Partic.i.p.ating in the press conference had been a bleak enough proposition, but seeing how it looked from the other side of the dais was more than the brothers' pride could bear. 'Well, look, you guys chose this creep,' Michael said. 'Now, Branca and I are going to choose someone else, a tour coordinator who's going to really handle the business, someone like Bill Graham or Irvin Azoff, someone big in the business,' Michael said, referring to two giants in the concert promotion world. 'Do we agree?' he asked, taking charge. 'Is it time to take back some power?'

The brothers nodded their heads in agreement.

Another Bombastic, Attention-getting Melodrama?

By 1984, despite his tremendous fame and great fortune, Michael Jackson still continued door-to-door proselytizing for the Jehovah's Witness faith, 'twice a week, maybe for an hour or two,' according to Katherine. He also attended meetings at Kingdom Hall with his mother four times a week, when he was in town.

An example of a typical day of spreading The Word: wearing a disguise a moustache, hat and gla.s.ses and a tie and sweater, and holding a copy of Watchtower, Watchtower, Michael stood at the door of an apartment in suburban Thousand Oaks, California, one morning in early 1984. 'I'm here to talk to you about G.o.d's word,' he told the young girl who answered the bell. Michael stood at the door of an apartment in suburban Thousand Oaks, California, one morning in early 1984. 'I'm here to talk to you about G.o.d's word,' he told the young girl who answered the bell.

She slammed the door in his face.

He went to the next apartment.

'Today, I'm here to talk to you about G.o.d's word,' he said when the door opened. He was invited into the apartment, and the door closed behind him. Louise Gilmore recalled the day Michael came to visit: 'It was very odd. At first I thought it was some kind of a trick-or-treat gag. A young black man came to my door wearing what was obviously a phony moustache and beard, and a big hat. His face was too smooth for all that facial hair. He looked like a little boy playing grown-up. He had this soft little voice and looked harmless enough. 'Can I talk to you for just a moment?' he said politely. I decided to let him in.

'He sat down and pulled out all of these books and pamphlets from a bag. "You should read these," he said. He gave me a little speech about the Jehovah's Witnesses, which I paid no attention to, so I can't tell you what he said. He then had a gla.s.s of water, thanked me, and went on his way. I didn't think anything of it, except, My, what a polite little boy.

'The next day my neighbour said to me, "Did Michael Jackson come to your house too?" I said, "What are you talking about?" When I put two and two together, I almost fainted. I've kept the material he gave me as souvenirs. No, I didn't join the religion.'

More than ever before, Michael considered himself a strict Jehovah's Witness. He didn't believe in blood transfusions, Easter and Christmas (which he viewed as 'pagan holidays'), or the celebration of his own birthday. He also did not believe in pledging allegiance to the flag. (In April 1984 he would attend the T. J. Martell Foundation's dinner honouring Walter Yetnikoff, president of CBS Records. Michael refused to be seated at the dais until after Monsignor Vincent Puma delivered the invocation and the crowd pledged allegiance to the flag and then sang the national anthem.) Despite the fact that Michael was devout and no doubt had donated quite a bit of money to the religion the church's elders were upset with him in 1984, mostly because of the 'Thriller' video.

Michael had been so impressed with the horror-fantasy film An American Werewolf in London An American Werewolf in London that he employed the services of John Landis to repeat his directorial duties and then he hired Rick Baker to create special effects on the 'Thriller' video. The fourteen-minute video was budgeted at $600,000. At this time, an artist could make a decent video for about $25,000. John Branca felt that Michael was overextending himself and advised him that they should find another way to pay for the 'Thriller' video. that he employed the services of John Landis to repeat his directorial duties and then he hired Rick Baker to create special effects on the 'Thriller' video. The fourteen-minute video was budgeted at $600,000. At this time, an artist could make a decent video for about $25,000. John Branca felt that Michael was overextending himself and advised him that they should find another way to pay for the 'Thriller' video.

John and Michael came up with the idea of a video ent.i.tled The Making of Thriller. The Making of Thriller. At the same time that the video was being taped, extra footage of how it was done, including interviews with some of the key figures and even Michael himself, would be shot. John then approached Vestron Video, a video distribution company, and had them pay approximately $500,000 for the right to distribute the product. At the same time that the video was being taped, extra footage of how it was done, including interviews with some of the key figures and even Michael himself, would be shot. John then approached Vestron Video, a video distribution company, and had them pay approximately $500,000 for the right to distribute the product.

Afterwards, John went to MTV and told executives there that Michael was doing a sixty-minute doc.u.mentary and that if they wanted to show it, they'd have to pay for it. At that time, MTV didn't even pay record companies for the right to air videos because it was considered terrific promotion to have an artist's video aired on the cable-music station. While today there is much negotiating of money between MTV and an artist's managers, attorneys and record label executives, that was certainly not the case in 1984. However, because Michael was so popular, MTV quickly agreed to finance part of The Making of Thriller The Making of Thriller if Michael would license it to the station for an official debut. The video would end up costing a little over a million dollars. The Showtime cable network also paid for second rights to the video. In all, MTV and Showtime put up nearly the whole second half of the million dollars. if Michael would license it to the station for an official debut. The video would end up costing a little over a million dollars. The Showtime cable network also paid for second rights to the video. In all, MTV and Showtime put up nearly the whole second half of the million dollars.

The 'Thriller' video combined illusion and reality, skilfully weaving one into the other. The story opens with Michael pulling his white Chevy convertible over to the side of a wooded road. In a line that has been around since ten minutes after the first Model T rolled off the a.s.sembly line, Michael turns to date Ola Ray (a former Playboy Playboy centrefold) and says, 'I'm afraid we're out of gas.' However, instead of staying put and romancing, they start to walk. centrefold) and says, 'I'm afraid we're out of gas.' However, instead of staying put and romancing, they start to walk.

He asks her to be his girl. She accepts. 'I'm not like other guys,' he then tells her in a soft and whispery voice.

'Of course not,' she says, brus.h.i.+ng off one of the great understatements of all time. 'That's why I love you.'

'No,' Michael insists. 'I mean I'm different.'

As the moon comes out from behind a cloud, Ola discovers how different Michael really is: how many other guys sprout fangs, claws and whiskers and bray at the moon as they turn into werewolves? He chases her through the woods. She trips. She is flat on her back. He hovers over her, clearly up to no good.

Just as the monster is about to attack, the camera focuses on Michael and Ola as part of a movie theatre audience, dressed in a more modern fas.h.i.+on than their 1950-style counterparts on the screen. She is cringing in horror while he is clearly enjoying the scene. 'I can't watch,' she says, getting up to leave.

Reluctantly putting aside his popcorn, Michael follows her out of the theatre, playfully taunting her about her fears. He begins singing 'Thriller' as they walk along the deserted streets. When they pa.s.s a graveyard, an a.s.semblage of ghouls emerge from their graves and crypts to surround the couple. With skin the colour of mushrooms, blood dripping from the corners of their mouths, and eyeb.a.l.l.s bulging halfway out of their heads, they look as though they have been moldering for a long time.

Ola escapes to find shelter in a deserted house. Meanwhile, Michael leads the grotesque company in dance, his features contorted and menacing, his blood-red clothing contributing to his sinister appearance. He leads the other ghouls to Ola and, as she trembles in fear, Michael and his gruesome company break through the walls, the windows, the floor. Ola huddles on the sofa, screaming as Michael reaches out for her.

Suddenly, they are in Michael's home. 'Hey, what's the problem?' a smiling Michael asks. Ola looks up at him with confused eyes. Was it all a dream? Michael puts his arm protectively around her shoulder. But, then, as he turns to face the camera his eyes are b.e.s.t.i.a.l, his smile ominous.

There's little doubt that Michael never intended the video to advocate Satanism or the occult. He was so engrossed with fantasy, 'Thriller' was no scarier to him than Halloween. After all, when he finished a hard day's work on the set, he went home to a bunch of dead-eyed mannequins in his bedroom. Before he had even finished work on it, though, the video brought to a head an ongoing conflict between Michael and the church elders of the Encino Kingdom Hall. After the elders heard about the concept, they summoned Michael for a meeting, during which the state of his soul was discussed. He was not receptive. He didn't want to be told what to do, not by his father and not by his church, either. He refused to make any kind of statement repudiating his work, as the church insisted he should. 'I know I'm an imperfect person,' Michael said. 'I'm not making myself out to be an angel.'

Finally, when the elders threatened to banish him from the religion, Michael became worried. He telephoned John Branca's office. When John's secretary picked up the phone, there seemed to be no one on the line. All she heard was the sound of desperate breathing, as if someone was trying to catch his breath in between sobs. 'I don't know who it is,' she told John. 'It might be Michael.'

When John got on the line and heard nothing but panting, he became concerned. However, before he could figure out what was going on, the line went dead. John telephoned Michael, but there was no answer.

The next day, Michael called back and whispered that he had 'a big problem'. Then he abruptly hung up again. Could he be any more dramatic? These kinds of maddeningly cryptic telephone calls went on for several days until John was extremely worried about Michael.

Finally, Michael got a hold of himself, apparently, and called John to ask if he had the tapes to the 'Thriller' video. When the attorney said that he didn't have them, that they were in the processing lab, Michael instructed him to retrieve them. 'Then, I want you to destroy them,' Michael said. He sounded desperate. 'No one must ever see the video.'

Before John had a chance to respond, Michael hung up.

Michael called back the next day, wanting to know if his attorney had gotten the tapes. By this time, John was tired of playing games. He wanted to know what was going on, especially since Michael had already spent a million dollars of MTV's, Showtime's and Vestron's money on 'Thriller'. How could they now destroy the tapes?

When Michael explained that his church had threatened to expel him if the 'Thriller' tape was released to the public, John was astounded. He tried to convince Michael that he should not allow the church elders to dictate his artistry, but Michael wasn't interested in his opinion at that point.

Michael called back the next day. 'Do you have the tapes?' he asked John. John did. When Michael asked, 'Did you destroy them?' John said that he had done just that; actually, though, they were sitting on his desk. 'Okay, then fine,' Michael said. He hung up.

Coincidentally, at this same time John had been reading a book about Bela Lugosi. After thinking about Lugosi and his Dracula character, John called Michael back and engaged him in a conversation about the horror star, explaining to Michael that Lugosi had been a religious man but that, as an actor, he played the demonic Dracula and actually built a career for himself by doing so. Michael listened intently as John then told him that Lugosi's religious beliefs had no bearing on his art, and that the fact that he portrayed a vampire in movies didn't make him any less religious in real life. He suggested that Michael might want to reconsider issuing the 'Thriller' video with a disclaimer at the beginning stating that the work was not reflective of Michael's personal or religious convictions. Michael thought John's suggestion was brilliant. He wasn't even angry when John confessed that he'd not destroyed the tapes, after all.

The next day, John telephoned the video's director, John Landis, to tell him that there would have to be a disclaimer. 'Bulls.h.i.+t,' Landis said. 'No way.'

'Look, man, if there's no disclaimer then there'll be no video,' John told him. He then explained the entire story to Landis. 'Jesus Christ,' Landis said, 'this kid's in bad shape, isn't he?'

John Branca couldn't really disagree, though out of respect for his client he didn't comment. Michael had handled the entire matter in a manner that was so odd, it was actually eerie. What kind of madness was this behaviour, calling and hanging up, panting and sobbing? In a sense, the scenario was reminiscent of his dramatic declaration that the Thriller Thriller alb.u.m be cancelled. It's difficult to know if Michael was really upset (and if he was, one would think that there might have been a better way to handle it) or, again, orchestrating a bombastic, attention-getting melodrama around a new and upcoming project. alb.u.m be cancelled. It's difficult to know if Michael was really upset (and if he was, one would think that there might have been a better way to handle it) or, again, orchestrating a bombastic, attention-getting melodrama around a new and upcoming project.

In the end, the 'Thriller' video was released with the following disclaimer at its beginning: Due to my strong personal convictions, I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses a belief in the occult Michael Jackson. Due to my strong personal convictions, I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses a belief in the occult Michael Jackson.

As part of the Michael Jackson merchandising bonanza, The Making of Thriller The Making of Thriller video ca.s.sette was eventually released one video showing how the video ca.s.sette was eventually released one video showing how the other other video was made. According to the Record Industry a.s.sociation of America, Jackson's first release for the home-video market was the first music video ca.s.sette to apply for immediate gold and platinum certification. It was, by far, the best-selling music video to date. Michael would make millions from it. video was made. According to the Record Industry a.s.sociation of America, Jackson's first release for the home-video market was the first music video ca.s.sette to apply for immediate gold and platinum certification. It was, by far, the best-selling music video to date. Michael would make millions from it.

The week before the 'Thriller' video was released in late December 1983, Thriller's Thriller's sales had slowed down to 200,000 copies a week, more than respectable for an alb.u.m that had been out for a year. According to sales had slowed down to 200,000 copies a week, more than respectable for an alb.u.m that had been out for a year. According to Time, Time, the week after the video was issued and televised on MTV for only five days, the alb.u.m sold another 600,000 copies and shot back up to number one on the the week after the video was issued and televised on MTV for only five days, the alb.u.m sold another 600,000 copies and shot back up to number one on the Billboard Billboard charts. charts.

PART SIX.

Michael Gets Burned by Pepsi-Cola.

The first order of business for 1984 was the filming of the two Pepsi-Cola commercials. Michael was still unhappy about the endors.e.m.e.nt, especially when the Quaker Oats Company offered to support the Jackson's tour with a sum that was 40 per cent more than offered by Pepsi-Cola. Though the contract was already signed with Pepsi, John Branca did try to get Michael out of the agreement. However, Katherine was asked by Don to 'talk some sense into Michael'. The Pepsi deal was back on.

From the beginning, it was understood by everyone involved that Michael would have complete quality control over the commercials. His brothers could have no say about the footage, which was fine with them. They were being paid a hefty sum to do the commercials, and were satisfied.

After a few meetings with Michael, the Pepsi-Cola executives were worried. As it happened, Michael's friends Paul McCartney and Jane Fonda had told him he had made a mistake in agreeing to the commercials because the result would be overexposure for him. Michael decided that one way to rectify the problem was to make sure his face should only be on camera for one close-up, and only for a maximum of four seconds. In other words, he wanted to make a cameo appearance in his own commercial and for that, Pepsi would have to pay five million dollars.

'There are other ways to shoot me rather than push a camera in my face,' Michael insisted to three exasperated Pepsi-Cola executives in a meeting at his home. 'Use my symbols. Shoot my shoes, my spats, my glove, my look and then, at the end, reveal me.' He offered to allow the Pepsi executives use of 'Billie Jean', for which he would write new Pepsi jingle lyrics. Michael wasn't trying to get out of the deal, he just wanted the commercials to be special. If he was going to do them, he'd decided, they may as well be worthwhile. When Michael met with Roger Enrico, president and chief executive officer of the Pepsi-Cola Company, he told him, 'Roger, I'm going to make c.o.ke wish they they were Pepsi.' were Pepsi.'

Though trying to be a team-player, Michael still had reservations. 'I still don't have a good feeling about it,' he said about the Pepsi endors.e.m.e.nt. 'In my heart, I feel it's wrong to endorse something you don't believe in. I think it's a bad omen.' He shrugged his shoulders and added, 'But I guess I just gotta make the best of it.'

On Friday 27 January 1984, the time had come to film the commercial. Three thousand people were seated in the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, in order to simulate a live concert audience. The Jacksons were to perform 'You're a Whole New Generation', which were special lyrics to the music of 'Billie Jean'.

Prior to one of the takes, the brothers were preparing themselves for the shooting adjusting their outfits, putting on their makeup when Michael had to go to the bathroom. 'Go ahead, use mine,' director Bob Giraldi suggested. 'Don't worry, I'll just be a minute,' Michael said. He went in and closed the door.

Thirty seconds later, a bloodcurdling shriek came out of the bathroom.

'Jesus! What happened?' Bob Giraldi started banging on the door in alarm. 'Michael, Michael. Are you okay?'

When Michael slowly opened the door, Bob and a bunch of others rushed into the bathroom. 'I dropped my glove,' Michael said, embarra.s.sed.

'Where?' asked Bob.

'In there,' Michael said, meekly. He pointed down to the toilet bowl. Floating in the water was a lone, white, rhinestoned glove.

'Oh, okay,' Bob said, trying not to burst out laughing. 'Somebody get a hanger or something. We'll just have to fish it out of there.'

Everyone scattered about in search of a hanger. Finally Michael said, 'Oh, forget it.' He reached into the toilet and pulled out the soaking-wet glove. 'Anyone have a hair dryer?'

It had been a long day. All of the brothers except Michael had arrived at nine in the morning. t.i.to acted as his brother's stand-in, taking Michael's place for the purpose of camera angles and other technical positioning. Michael, the star of the show, would not arrive for hours.

By about six p.m., the group performed their number for the sixth time that day this time so that Bob Giraldi could make technical adjustments. Finally, tape began rolling at 6:30. As he had done during each rehearsal, Michael began to descend from a podium by going down a staircase amid brilliant illumination. His brothers were lined up on the stage, playing. A smoke bomb and pyrotechnics exploded, as planned, momentarily blocking Michael from view.

First a pose; that unmistakable silhouette.

Then, a magnesium flash bomb, which went off with a loud bang two feet from Michael's head.

As Michael headed down the stairs, the smoke became thick. Something wasn't right. He began to dance. He did a turn. And another, and another. After spinning three times, he popped up on his toes. He was hot literally. When he turned, their was an audible gasp from the audience. The explosion had set his hair ablaze. He would later remember feeling the heat, but said he thought it was generated by hot stage lights. He continued to perform, but not for long.

When he felt the burning pain, Michael pulled his jacket over his head and fell to the stage floor. 't.i.to! t.i.to!' he yelled.

Bob Giraldi would recall, 'The film would later show that while his hair was burning, he was trying to get his jacket off. Maybe he thought it too was on fire. He did two quick spins, though, and put out the fire by his own force.'

The first to respond was Miko Brando, Marlon's twenty-two-year-old son and one of Michael's security staff. 'I ran out, hugged him, tackled him, and ran my hands through his hair,' reported Brando, who burned his fingers in the process.

For a few disturbing moments, no one seemed to know what had occurred, or how to respond to it. There was chaos and pandemonium. Jermaine would later say he thought Michael had been shot. The crew rushed on to the stage, threw him down, and covered his head with a blanket to put out the fire. After a handful of ice was applied and a T-s.h.i.+rt borrowed to make a cold compress, Michael was taken off the stage.

When Michael was taken away, and did not return to the stage, it was difficult for the authorities to keep the crowd calm and orderly. Screams filled the auditorium. Since no one in charge could give an accurate report, audience members began to develop their own theories. Most believed that it had been an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt on Michael.

In order to avoid fans and news media, the authorities hoped to transport Michael through an exit from the back of the theatre. However, Michael insisted on exiting where the crowds and photographers could see him. He said that he wanted to be able to to show the a.s.sembled crowd that he was all right. In truth, though, he also knew a moment moment when he saw one coming; no one could ask for better public relations. 'No, leave the glove on,' he told the ambulance attendants as he was being prepared for the stretcher. 'The media is here.' No matter the pain, shock, or hysteria, the showman prevailed. when he saw one coming; no one could ask for better public relations. 'No, leave the glove on,' he told the ambulance attendants as he was being prepared for the stretcher. 'The media is here.' No matter the pain, shock, or hysteria, the showman prevailed.

The videotape of Michael being loaded into the ambulance became the lead story on all news broadcasts that evening. There he was, strapped in a stretcher, covered up to his nose, his bandaged and taped head resting on a pillow, one sequined-gloved hand protruding weakly from blankets. Michael lifted his hand with what appeared to be his very last bit of strength... and waved to the cameras. 'If E.T. hadn't come to Elliot, he would have come to Michael's house,' Steven Spielberg had earlier said of Michael. Now, Michael was was E.T., an odd little creature, hurt by grown-ups who had been playing with fire, being carted away to who-knows-where, by who-knows-whom, and for who-knows-what purpose. E.T., an odd little creature, hurt by grown-ups who had been playing with fire, being carted away to who-knows-where, by who-knows-whom, and for who-knows-what purpose.

As he was being wheeled out, as he would later tell it, he noticed several Pepsi executives huddled together with anxious expressions. They must have realized that the accident could become the catalyst for one of the biggest lawsuits in show-business history: Michael Jackson could own own Pepsi by the time the smoke cleared. Pepsi by the time the smoke cleared.

The next day, photos of Michael as E.T. were on the front pages of newspapers all over the world. Michael would call it 'that famous shot of me'.

Michael was taken to the emergency room at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, where he was treated with an antiseptic cream and bandages. He was offered a painkiller, but because of his disdain for narcotics, he turned it down. Soon, though, he realized he needed it and accepted one. Then, accompanied by Joseph and Katherine, Bill Bray, his brother, Randy, and his doctor, Steve Hoefflin, Michael was transported to Brotman Memorial Hospital in Culver City.

I attempted to get an interview with Katherine and Joseph as they rushed into the hospital, arm in arm. 'How do you feel about this?' he asked.

Katherine kept walking, but Joseph stopped. He glared at me. 'That's my son in there,' he said, clearly upset. 'How do you think I feel? How does any father feel when his son is hurt?'

'You and Michael have had your differences, though,' I observed.

Joseph studied me for a moment. 'Hey, man, do you have any kids?'

I shook my head no.

'Then you can't understand how I feel. Whatever happens, a father will always be a father. His son will always be his son. All right?'

Michael spent Friday evening in room 3307, resting. In a short time, though, he was bored and asked for a videotape player. Because no one on the staff had the key to the cabinet where the hospital's video equipment was kept, someone broke the padlock to get Michael a machine and an a.s.sortment of tapes. He chose the science-fiction film Close Encounters of the Third Kind Close Encounters of the Third Kind directed by his friend, Steven Spielberg and watched it until he fell asleep at one a.m. after taking a sleeping pill. directed by his friend, Steven Spielberg and watched it until he fell asleep at one a.m. after taking a sleeping pill.

Outside his room, Katherine, Joseph and Bill Bray prepared to go home. They looked relieved. It had been a tense, exhausting experience. Joseph noticed a group of Pepsi executives standing together, still looking upset. As he walked by them he asked, 'Why the long faces? Jeez. The burn's only the size of a half-dollar.'