What do you do when a tremendously expensive tour is scuttled by the death of its star within days of its first show? In the case of Michael Jackson’s comeback tour, clever editing of 120 hours of rehearsal footage, shot for Jackson’s personal use, along with interviews with cast and crew members, short films shot for the stage, and scenes depicting Jackson’s creative process resulted in this anticipated concert documentary.

Director Kenny Ortega, a friend of Jackson’s, took on this seemingly impossible task and has created a viable and entertaining film. Watching it, you can’t help feeling sad that Jackson’s final tour will never come to pass. And with some imagination, you might even think these shows could have represented the King of Pop’s second ascension after a period of his notoriety being lodged in the public’s ear more often than his music.

The movie starts with the selection of a handful of dancers from hundreds of hopefuls. Interviews reveal that they’re auditioning for much more than a job -- they want the chance to be on stage with a master. And though most of them are less than half of Jackson’s age, many won’t be able to keep up with him. There’s some stunning dancing during the auditions and throughout the film, especially from the final cast of male dancers.

After the cast is chosen, we’re taken through the concert number by number. Apparently the plan was to project music videos that would dissolve into massive sets featuring live singers and dancers. The set for "Smooth Criminal" inserts Jackson into sharply contrasted black-and-white films with Rita Hayworth and Humphrey Bogart. We even see him shooting it out with Bogie. The film for "Thriller," intended to be in 3D, ends with a shot of a huge spider, from which Jackson emerges.

The short films for each song (which were finished before Jackson’s death) are sharp, and the rehearsal footage is better than I expected, making for high overall picture quality with no sense of leftover outtakes or salvaged film. And the sound for each of the songs is downright miraculous, with great transparency and remarkable focus, including a pointed, pounding bass line. The interviews are fine, but because the microphones seem to be at a distance whenever Jackson speaks from the stage, his words are displayed in subtitles.

The scenes of Jackson working reveal that he’s a quietly persistent perfectionist. He never shouts at anyone or goes diva; he simply shows them what he wants and works with them until it’s there. There’s a remarkable scene between Jackson and the young lead guitarist in which he starts singing the guitar part. They bounce the phrase back and forth until it’s exactly how Jackson wants it to sound. Jackson is frugal with his voice, and though that’s a shame for us now, it was a sensible move for a performer faced with 50 back-to-back events. But he never pulls back on his dancing, which always seems precise and effortless.

I came away from this movie grateful to have seen Jackson once again as a performer and not a tabloid cover. And that’s how he should ultimately be remembered -- as one of the most original and dynamic performers music has ever known.

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