Michael Jackson died in June 2009. But even before his death, in the last twenty years, every so often a new audiovisual dose has emerged that recovers the most sordid circumstances of his existence. Netflix has added to its repertoire a documentary miniseries that aims to analyze the sexual abuse trial that was held against him in 2005. Cameras were banned in that trial. And now Michael Jackson: The Verdict gathers as many testimonies as possible to explain the circumstances surrounding the judicial process and the reasons that led to the not guilty verdict. The production seems like a way to compensate for the recent Michael, the successful cinematographic biopic that has been recreated explaining childhood traumas to justify any strange circumstance that surrounded his life.The verdict is gripping, but not because it conducts a relevant investigation or brings anything new to the case. The series captivates because the troubled and decadent life of the King of Pop is bound to have a hypnotic effect on anyone minimally sensitive. The material doesn't need to be unpublished. Everything is so murky and grotesque that even seeing images we've already seen in the past still evokes fascination. The miniseries revisits the testimony of Martin Bashir, the BBC journalist who recorded the famous documentary Living with Michael Jackson, which exposed the singer's delusional and frivolous life. Bashir, the man who deceived Lady Di with an interview at her home, managed to uncover the hints of sexual abuse later denounced by Gavin Arvizo, the cancer-stricken teenager Jackson had invited to sleep in his bed since he was little. The verdict recovers archival footage from that production and the police recordings from the Neverland raid. The series seeks an apparent fairness by including the version of Jackson's defense lawyers and the voice of the prosecutors in the case. In fact, the documentary recovers as many testimonies as it can: friends of the singer, service staff, Neverland workers, jury members from the trial, police officers who handled the case, and journalists who dedicated years to investigating the artist to squeeze every last drop out of the facts. It's not much because the story has already been told so many times and mulled over so much that it doesn't quite move forward. In no case does it surpass Dan Reed's Leaving Neverland, De Dan Reed. In the future, either new evidence emerges or you end up with the feeling that economic power has always managed to hide something that seems obvious but doesn't quite surface. There is only a small distinguishing fact when this case is explained to you again: the more years separate us from the artist's death, the more you realize how the disturbing and destroyed aspect of the character and his troubled life came to be normalized. Seen now, it is incomprehensible. Michael Jackson died at just the right moment so that current social standards and the evolution in victims' rights and consent would not end up crushing him completely.

Michael Jackson's heirs are facing a lawsuit from the four Cascio brothers, who claim they were victims of sexual abuse and manipulation. As the Cascios explained to The New York Times, Michael Jackson deceived them when they were minors and subjected them to a brainwashing process.

To understand what kind of film Michael is, the biopic about Michael Jackson that has just been released, one only needs to look at the credits, where John Branca and John McClain appear as main producers, the lawyers appointed as executors of Michael Jackson's post-mortem business and who have turned him into the most profitable dead celebrity in the world, with more than 3.5 billion euros generated since Jackson's death in 2009, according to Forbes. Like so many other biopics, Michael exists above all as a commercial strategy that must protect and reinforce a brand. Therefore, the margin of artistic freedom that director Antoine Fuqua (Training day, Brooklyn's Finest) or screenwriter John Logan (Gladiator, Skyfall) have had is perceived as very scarce.

On Three Kings' Day, a day when children are the protagonists and everyone participates in a family ritual, TV3 had the subtle irony to end the day by scheduling a Non-fiction About Michael Jackson. Wonderful! What subtlety. What a great knack for timing. Now that's what it means to conceive of television programming with deep reflection and a sense of service. Nothing could be more fitting to bid farewell to Three Kings' Day than to offer a hagiographic and uncritical documentary celebrating an artist against whom serious accusations of pedophilia have been leveled. It is irrefutable proof of an awareness of the symbolic value of television content. The documentary This is it It compiles Michael Jackson's final rehearsals for a series of concerts that were never performed due to his sudden death in June 2009. As a documentary, it's an interesting work that showcases Jackson's undeniable talent. His death in the midst of the creative process influences our interpretation of what we see. This is it It's a full-fledged tribute. It's an act of veneration of the myth, even with historical intent. It's a demonstration of what could have been but never was, with a retrospective and elegiac character.

Paris Jackson (Beverly Hills, 1998), daughter of the late singer Michael Jackson, He quit alcohol and heroin six years ago After a long battle with addiction, the daughter of the King of Pop has long been very open about these issues on social media, and this week she took it a step further by showing the physical consequences of her drug use. Through TikTok, where she has over 300,000 followers, she admitted that drug use perforated her nasal septum and nearly ruined her life. In the video, Jackson uses her phone's flashlight to show the inside of her nose and the hole caused by her drug use. "When I breathe through my nose, you can hear a whistling sound, and that's because I have a perforated septum, which is different from a deviated septum. Why do you think that is? My life," she reflects.