King of Pop's story gets showbiz ending

LOS ANGELES - They promised a circus, and a circus they got. First, Michael Jackson's gold-plated coffin was taken from a peaceful cemetery in the Hollywood Hills to the chaotic heart of Los Angeles.

Then, with all the sadness, sensation, and pantomime excess that defined his topsy-turvy career, the King of Pop's famous story was given a show-business ending.

The first city of entertainment staged its version of a royal funeral yesterday, with an impromptu, star-studded celebration of both the music and the man.

It brought the world's media to LA's streets, clogged its motorways, filled the sky with helicopters, and at one point saw a procession of elephants wander past the vast arena where the memorial service was staged.

A global television audience estimated at one billion witnessed all the trimmings, good and bad, of the all-American celebrity bunfight.

Paparazzi and rolling news crews were everywhere; thousands of gun-toting policemen stood on street corners; and despite the event's mid-morning scheduling, celebrity guests came dressed up to the nines.

The serious business of Jackson's memorial service was held at the Staples Centre, a sports and concert venue where he was rehearsing a series of comeback concerts on the eve of his death.

As a gospel choir sang, "We are going to see the King" his shimmering coffin was placed in a sea of flowers before a mix of music stars, sports legends and race-relations campaigners came to pay tribute.

It was an impromptu event, pulled together in a few days, and characterised by the same mixture of splendour and controversy that marked Jackson's life.

Stevie Wonder played piano, Jennifer Hudson and Usher sang, and a sometimes-surreal procession of major and minor stars and reality-show contestants trooped up to the microphone to deliver sermons, speeches and prayers.

Mariah Carey stole the opening portion of the show, singing a duet of I'll Be There. Then Queen Latifah read a poem written by Maya Angelou, America's unofficial black poet laureate, whose last such commission was for the inauguration of President Barack Obama. Berry Gordy, the Motown producer who helped "discover" Jackson, spoke movingly.

In the audience were 8750 members of the public, who had been granted two free places from a lottery for which 1,700,000 applied, together with 9000 "family friends".

They wore a mixture of black suits, jandals, Jackson-style fedora hats and single gloves. Tickets, and wristbands enabling access past police barricades in the surrounding streets, changed hands for US$10,000 ($15,955) on the black market.

To send off a performer who bestrode the world of pop for more than four decades, won 13 Grammy Awards, held 13 Guinness World Records and in the shape of Thriller recorded the best-selling album of all time, the showbusiness community pulled out all the stops.

Dionne Warwick and Lionel Ritchie delivered musical numbers. Diana Ross and Nelson Mandela sent tributes, read by Smokey Robinson.

There had been little time for rehearsals, and proceedings had an occasionally chaotic spirit. Fans hoping for a pop spectacular were instead given a low-key tribute concert.

As Randy Phillips, the AEG impresario who pulled the show together with Dirty Dancing producer Kenny Ortega and Grammy producer Ken Ehrlich, said this week: "It won't be a show; it's a service. There will be a time, in the future, to celebrate him. But now is the time to bury him." The prevailing atmosphere was respectful.

Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton spoke of his pioneering role as one of the first black pop stars who white people adored, and recalled the extraordinary vision that saw him marry the daughter of Elvis Presley and take control of the back catalogue of the Beatles.

Yet their moving tributes were confused by the nature of Jackson's relationship with his own race. It was also confused by Jackson's tangled private life, which had been so distorted by the excesses of fame.

Among those paying tribute was Brooke Shields, the actress who was the singer's first girlfriend, and who met him when she was 13. Yet before the service, she admitted to Rolling Stone magazine that she hadn't actually seen Jackson since 1991.

A performance by the teenage Britain's Got Talent finalist Shaheen Jafargholi, who shot to fame impersonating Jackson, served as a reminder of both his stratospheric talent, and his ill-fated fascination with children. It raised the spectre of the ongoing, possibly never-ending legal battles that will in future surround his estate and musical legacy.

Lawyers for Jackson's ex-wife, Debbie Rowe, who is still considering whether to fight for custody of their children, said she had decided not to attend, despite being invited, because: "Her attendance would be an unnecessary distraction."

Also absent was Jackson's close friend Elizabeth Taylor, who announced that she had turned down an invitation to speak. "I cannot be part of the public hoop-la. I just don't believe that Michael would want me to share my grief with millions of others."

Comparisons will inevitably be drawn with the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales, which drew three million members of the public to the streets of London 12 years ago.

But in truth, this was a strangely exclusive rendering of a public event.

Anyone without tickets was kept several blocks from the Staples Centre by police barricades.

Earlier, Jackson's family had accompanied his coffin from a small private funeral service at the Forest Lane Cemetery, in the shadow of the Hollywood Sign, to the public event.

Organisers had told the public that no funeral procession would take place. So only a handful of mourners were able to pay respects as the motorcade passed.

There was something sad about this failure to create a truly public celebration, just as there was sadness inside the arena at the loss of a star who invented the moonwalk, died a physical wreck, ravaged by the raw, destructive power of fame.

But perhaps that was the most appropriate way to mark a man who was, said his mentor Berry Gordy: "Not just the King of Pop, but the greatest entertainer that ever lived."

- INDEPENDENT