Some artists are so big they stop being people and become myths. Michael Jackson was one of them. MJ The Musical, now moonwalking its way across the stage at Her Majesty’s Theatre Melbourne, doesn’t try to unpack the whole myth, though.
Rather than dwelling on the controversies that followed Jackson later in life, the show keeps its focus narrow, set in the charged days leading up to the launch of the 1992 Dangerous World Tour. It isn’t a full biography of Michael’s life, like I was expecting. Instead, it is more like being dropped backstage with him, caught up in the colour, pressure and spectacle that surrounded the King of Pop at his peak.
Front and centre is Ilario Grant, and my god, what a performance. He’s been perfecting this role since Broadway and Australia’s Sydney premiere (playing MJ and Michael), and it shows.
Whether it be the way he tilts his head, grabs his crotch, or the way he glides around the stage with his silky-smooth moonwalk. Every hee-hee and every snap of his arms, he nails Michael’s mannerisms with precision and power in every moment.
Even his speaking voice is eerie, with that soft, breathy quality Michael had, right down to the pauses. When he dances, the electricity in the theatre spikes. His vocals, however, don’t always hit with the same force. His singing is good, but a little on the soft side and sometimes slips under the band. But honestly, the moment he starts moving, you stop caring. The precision and energy in his dancing make up for it a hundred times over.
Alongside him is Daniel Makunike as Little Michael, who, in many ways, steals the show. His dancing took me by surprise! For someone his age to move the way he does, and to hit every rhythm immaculately, is unreal to see. He is full of confidence, sharpness, and just pure joy. The cheers that ripple through the crowd every time he hits the stage, you would normally expect for a headliner, not a kid.
Derrick Davis is the one who really blew me away. He flips between Michael’s tour director, Rob and his father, Joseph Jackson, two roles that couldn’t be more different, and nails them both.
As Rob, he’s calm but firm, the guy trying to keep the tour on track and tempering Michael’s wild demands. As Joseph, he’s terrifying. Hard, cold, a father who treated his kids like a product.
The contrast is jarring, and it gives the whole show a real emotional weight. You see the adult genius on stage, and at the same time, you feel the bruises from a childhood that never went away.
Balancing that intensity is Penny McNamee as Rachel, an MTV reporter who’s desperate to crack open Michael’s world. She’s warm, funny, a little pushy, and gives the audience an anchor. She’s someone peering in from the outside with the same mix of awe and curiosity we all feel.
The design team has gone all in, and it pays off big time. Natasha Katz’s lighting is a thrill ride on its own; bold, colourful, constantly shifting with the music. At times, it feels like the beams themselves are dancing with Michael. In Thriller in particular, I caught myself grinning at how the lighting seemed to crawl through the theatre like the mist rising from the graveyard.
Christopher Wheeldon’s choreography and direction keep everything tight and kinetic. The book might not be the most powerful piece of theatre ever written, but the movement more than makes up for it. Every routine is a direct line back to the real thing. Beat It, Thriller, and Billie Jean. They don’t just feel like covers; they are resurrections.
Paul Tazewell’s costumes are pure nostalgia, from sequins to zombie-wear to silhouettes burned into pop culture. Derek McLane’s sets slip easily between rehearsal rooms and full-blown arena mayhem. While you’re watching, you never once doubt the size of Michael’s world.
The transitions happen so quickly you hardly notice them until you realise the whole stage has shifted around you. With the lights, costumes and choreography stacked on top, the production doesn’t just look slick, it’s engrossed in energy, like it’s running on the same adrenaline as the performers.
What stands out to me is what the show doesn’t touch. It skirts past the darker chapters of Michael’s life and instead puts all its weight on the music, the dance, and the imagery everyone knows. Some people will call that a dodge.
Sitting there, though, it felt like a deliberate choice to celebrate the art rather than dig into the man. For me, it works. It reminds me of why his music hit the way it did in the first place.
When the stage finally cut to black, the theatre just erupted. People were clapping in time before the band had even finished, yelling out, some singing over the top of the applause like they couldn’t keep it in any longer.
MJ isn’t just a musical. It is a shot of pure pop adrenaline injected straight into the heart of the city.
MJ the Musical runs in Melbourne at Her Majesty’s Theatre, 219 Exhibition Street Melbourne, with tickets on sale until 1 Feb 2026.
MJ has been announced for Brisbane and Perth in 2026!
Tickets: https://mjthemusical.com.au/tickets/melbourne/
Website: https://mjthemusical.com.au/
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/mjthemusicalau/
Photo credits: Daniel Boud
