My Friend Michael Jackson

Channel 4

Most of us wouldn’t be in a rush to tell the world of our friendship with an anti-Semite paedophile but most of us aren’t Uri Geller and most kiddy fiddling Jew bashers aren’t Michael Jackson. It clearly didn’t take much persuasion for Geller to share his deeply personal and deeply private intimate footage of his friendship with the King of Pop for the documentary My Friend Michael Jackson. Geller is a fraud to his core and this taints everything that comes out of his mouth. At the end of the day he’s just another cunt with a story to tell – he just has some pretty neat footage. Take the renewal of his wedding vows ceremony where Michael was his best man. Uri doesn’t like talking about it but he’ll do it for you. And Michael. His friend.

"Industrial strength painkillers clearly have him in thrall and rather like when Mr Burns inhales Ether and hallucinates Homer Simpson is Poppin’ Fresh, Jackson seems to think Uri Geller is Jesus Christ or some other failed Hebrew Messiah. The strangeness multiplies"

The wedding ceremony footage is indeed bizarre (it’s Michael Jackson — of course it’s bizarre). Jackson looking exactly as strange as you expect a mutilated pederast to, he seems to have little idea what’s going on or who anyone (including Geller) is. Industrial strength painkillers clearly have him in thrall and rather like when Mr Burns inhales Ether and hallucinates Homer Simpson is Poppin’ Fresh, Jackson seems to think Uri Geller is Jesus Christ or some other failed Hebrew Messiah. The strangeness multiplies.

"How exactly is going to the moon science fiction? Not exactly Brave New World is it?
This is the equivalent of a talk with a bloke in a pub who knows someone who went out with Madonna."

But once the drugs have worn off, Geller needs to keep Michael’s interest so he starts spinning him a yarn about GOING TO THE MOON. See, Uri knows this guy yeah? He works for Boeing, the plane people, but he has "ties to NASA" he tells Uri that "no matter how science fiction it sounds" it is possible to send Michael Jacksons TO THE MOON.

Pardon me but how exactly is going to the moon science fiction? Not exactly Brave New World is it?
This is the equivalent of a talk with a bloke in a pub who knows someone who went out with Madonna. Michael Jackson is a mess of squeaking ecstasy on an answerphone message he leaves for Geller. Michael Jackson doing the moonwalk ON THE MOON. OMG., LEDGEND!!!!!1111

So yes, just like the rest of his career, Uri Geller was selling snake oil. And boy did Michael Jackson lap it up? It was in his nature to believe the manifestly untrue. Like Geller tells us "Michael Jackson believed in the impossible" What, like inserting his forearm into a 9-year-olds cancer victim’s anus? Apparently.

"It was in his nature to believe the manifestly untrue. Like Geller tells us ‘Michael Jackson believed in the impossible’. What, like inserting his forearm into a 9-year-olds cancer victim’s anus? Apparently."

But he believed in the totally plausible too — like the ability of a hugely famous man to get a tour of the Houses of Parliament. Accompanied by that other fraud David Blaine and that blowhard Greville Janner, Geller and Jackson twat about for a while in Whitehall and Jackson gets it into his head that he deserves a knighthood from the Queen. If he only knew the power of a discreet donation to the Labour Party.

The freakshow continues. There’s footage of the pair at Paddington station on the way to a function at Exeter City Football Club where Geller is joint chairman. As a well-behaved but curious crowd gather round Geller squeals “You’re crushing him! Honour Michael!" and here we have an excellent demonstration of what a bullshitter he is. He says he feared for Jackson’s life and that the weight of bodies simply COULD NOT be contained yet you’re there watching the footage and there are just a few dozen people milling around, significant fewer than any given rush-hour morning. Believe Geller, though, and it’s just a heartbeat away from Hillsborough or the St Francis Dam disaster.

"Michael Jackson was an emaciated puncture wound riddled baby rapist, wrong in relationships and life with a 10th Dan in looking like a cunt."

But like all great friendships based on convenience, delusion and fame, it was to come to an end. The breaking point was Geller introducing Jackson to Martin Bashir with an eye to a career changing interview. It made perfect sense. After all, Bashir was the man who had rehabilitated Princess Diana. The problem was that Diana was a pretty posh girl and fundraiser wronged in relationships and life with a 10th Dan in media manipulation. Michael Jackson was an emaciated puncture wound riddled baby rapist, wrong in relationships and life with a 10th Dan in looking like a cunt. It’s a much tougher sell, see? When the documentary revealed a balcony baby dangling fucknut unfit to be anywhere near children Jackson blamed the first entourage groupie dipshit standing close enough. Sorry Uri! But you still have the tapes. That’ll be worth something one day.

"The Michael Jackson industry is peopled by liars lying – peddling a version of a story they know in their hearts to be false. When you put it like that you realise that Geller is maybe the best person on the face of the earth to front such a circus."

As with most documentaries about Michael Jackson, this held your interest – documentaries about endlessly fascinating fuck ups will do that. But Geller is such an unbelievable turd that you found yourself gagging on his pious self-serving commentary. Realistically, we shouldn’t be surprised. The Michael Jackson industry is peopled by liars lying – peddling a version of a story they know in their hearts to be false. When you put it like that you realise that Geller is maybe the best person on the face of the earth to front such a circus.

The best thing about it: Footage of an OxyContin blitzed Jackson at Geller’s wedding ceremony trying to work out which country he’s in.

The worst thing about it: Greville Janner with his after-dinner speaking circuit "and so I said to Michael…" bollocks.

The verdict on My Friend Michael Jackson: Much what you expected.

Marks out of 10: 7