There's probably nothing anyone can say that will change your mind about the film "Michael Jackson: This Is It."

Not even that tickets are of the "premium price" variety. (Tuesday's 11 p.m. opening at the Strand set moviegoers back $11. That makes the concession prices almost seem reasonable.)

Either you want to see this final testament to Jackson's talent, or you think it's a reprehensible ghoul show. Either Jackson is a musical and entertainment genius, or he's a felon roasting in hell, serving a penalty those on this plane were too cowardly to deliver on him.

There's little middle ground with Jackson.

But that's exactly where you'll find yourself viewing "Michael Jackson: This Is It." A documentary about preparations for Jackson's series of 50 shows in London's O2 Arena, the film leaves you admiring what you see of Jackson's hands-on approach to the concert production: staging, dancing and music. Yet it also leaves you questioning whether the featherweight 50-year-old had it in him to accomplish what was in his mind's eye, and whether he knew he couldn't deliver.

"This Is It" is edited in a manner favorable to Michael Jackson, and one wouldn't expect otherwise. That's kind of the point. However, cracks in the armor still peek through.

The director of the band gently points out to Jackson that the star's presence is necessary at sound checks so the band can perfect what Jackson is listening for. Jackson rarely sings complete songs, and clips from a variety of rehearsals are interspersed. That's not unexpected; rehearsals are a place to work out steps and feel, and Jackson wasn't PERFORMING for these shoots.

However, he's shown regularly saying he's saving his voice. (After the third such pronouncement, my viewing companion leaned over and said, "What a diva.") But for how long was Jackson saving his voice?

The concerts were to begin July 8. In late May, the kickoff was backed up five days because more time was needed for "dress rehearsals," promoters said. The revised schedule had Jackson doing 27 shows in 78 days. To do that kind of schedule, even in one location, Jackson should have started building the vocal muscles long before a few weeks prior to the debut.

Jackson apparently was ready to do a "greatest hits" tour, as just four songs featured in the film date from beyond 1987's "Bad" (which is a testament to the lasting power of Jackson's 1980s work, even though the film sidesteps "Off the Wall" material altogether). With most of the songs, he was looking to reproduce or at most extend what was on record, to the point of lecturing the band about that.

Only at a couple of points does the music rise above those slavish re-creations. A new opening for "The Way You Make Me Feel" gives it a bohemian jazz kind of groove and sounds as if Jackson is going to change the song in a revolutionary fashion. But it merely falls back into the familiar version. And during "Human Nature," Jackson actually is shown singing and bringing life to a song that's almost died from familiarity.

Perhaps the best reason to see the film is to see the extent of work needed to put together a presentation this spectacular. We see dozens of performers and are left to imagine the hundreds of workers who constructed the stage and sets (both for the music and for the films Jackson planned on incorporating to the show).

Jackson's voice is absent from explanations of his thought process behind the show or the visuals. And we can only imagine whence the choreography comes.

Jackson's lack of new moves left some opening-night observers disappointed. But for a 50-year-old man, admittedly one who occasionally appears as thin as a piece of paper, he still could move like few others.

More disturbing is what's resulted from a lifetime of plastic surgery. Whatever image you have in your head of modern Michael Jackson, it's likely a fleeting one, seen via a photograph or a brief video snippet.

But for two hours here, Jackson's mouth becomes the center of attention. He opens it to the point where its bizarre appearance gives the impression his head will perforate and the top of it will fall off. If you can walk out of the theater without thinking of Jack Nicholson in Tim Burton's "Batman," you're doing better than some others in the audience.

As it stands, this is not a film that begs for repeat viewings. In fact, based on what we see here, had Jackson decided to release a DVD of the "This Is It" concert, something like the film in theaters now would have served as an excellent and worthwhile extra on that DVD.

This is undoubtedly not the legacy Jackson wished to leave behind. But as has been the case with many things on the artistic side of his sad life and the subsequent four months, we're left with what we have and wondering what might have been.

timcain@herald-review.com|421-6908