Leaving Neverland

It is a slow, methodical, measured, and devastating rebuttal to claims that victims of sexual assault in general and Robson and Safechuck in particular are just “in it” for the fame and the money. .... A work of extraordinary restraint. It is not salacious or leering or opportunistic. There aren’t any twists. You know where it’s going from the start. At many points, the camera just quietly waits for the subject to formulate his thoughts and find a way to keep speaking. But the power is undeniable.

It’s a radically empathetic film about the resonating impact of sexual abuse, as well as the personal and social forces that conspire to keep people from talking about it in public. ... The documentary feels like a conversation-realigning milestone.

Leaving Neverland is not a particularly imaginative documentary, in that it sticks to a straightforward narrative, and, in its empathetic approach, doesn’t bother trying to include views from “the other side.” But ... It’s a shattering, unforgettable piece of work that will change forever the way I hear Jackson’s music.

Unlike Lifetime’s recent Surviving R. Kelly, Leaving Neverland doesn’t need to make an airtight case against a wealthy pop-music legend who still has access to vulnerable young fans. Yet it’s the absence of that active threat (if not a competing narrative from the Jackson estate and a few obsessive fans) that frees up Reed to focus on a wider-ranging inquiry into what it means to be a survivor. Viewers of all genders and ages who share that experience are bound to see their own stories in that of Safechuck and Robson. That’s more than enough reason for this eloquent documentary to exist.

An appalling story of predatory child sexual abuse, told in such painful detail and at such heroic length (four hours over Sunday and Monday nights) that it’s impossible to dismiss. But what the series also makes clear, beyond almost everything else, is the power of willful blindness.

Leaving Neverland possesses another layer of relevance in methodically tackling the King of Pop, and a musical legacy that has long since been at the very least clouded, and for many, forever tarnished.

“Leaving Neverland” is no thriller, but it’s undeniably a kind of true-life horror movie. You walk out of it shaken, but on some level liberated by its dark exposé. ... The second half of “Leaving Neverland” is mostly devoted to how Robson and Safechuck got in touch with their trauma and began to recover from it, something that only happened after Jackson’s death. It’s an essential part of the story, and part of why this is an important film.

Leaving Neverland has justifiably drawn criticism for being one-sided. It notes Robson’s lawsuit only briefly and never mentions that Safechuck filed a suit of his own. Those are flaws, but the stories of these two men are too compelling to ignore. A riveting story of childhood sexual abuse and its devastating effects on survivors and families.

Leaving Neverland brings the voices of alleged victims into the space you live in, which is an indelible feeling.

Leaving Neverland is not balanced, not by any standard. It is, however, a devastating testament to how childhood sexual abuse rages like a ferocious cancer through survivors and their families.

It could probably be an hour shorter if Reed cut back on all those enervating drone shots of the Los Angeles landscape (this is what happens when you’ve got four hours of HBO primetime to fill). And yet, the film is ultimately able to transcend its basic functionality. Not because of how well it conveys these particular accounts, but rather because of how comprehensively it corroborates so many others like them.

At times Leaving Neverland feels more like a deposition than a documentary, given we’re hearing from only one side, again and again. But Lord does that side present a convincing case.

Leaving Neverland is heartbreaking and hard to watch for many reasons, among them that Jackson is such a part of our collective history. While there are pacing issues here and the filmmaker could have used a few more sources to widen the story, it’s a compelling look at childhood trauma, fame and the mechanics of pedophilia.

Leaving Neverland feels long and one could argue a tighter two-hour film would have been equally effective. It just might not have reflected the truth they want to tell. ... It's all complicated and heartbreaking and just as their perspectives aren't the same today (both are relatively new fathers) as when they were pre-teens or in their twenties, it's doubtful you'll feel exactly the same after watching four hours of Leaving Neverland.

As Robson’s sister says, “I’m not taking anything from Michael’s talent as a superstar, but, as a man, as a human being, he’s hurt people. And those people that he’s hurt should have a chance to talk about it and they should be allowed to be OK.” It’s impossible to argue with her.

The documentary is less focused on finger-pointing than Jackson fans or the late singer’s estate might think. It’s more focused on hearing these men tell and tell until their minds can’t bear to tell anymore. It’s more focused on changing up the still-unfolding post-Harvey Weinstein shift in our reactions to victims’ stories of alleged abuse.

A harrowing watch, the soaring orchestral score from Chad Hobson providing a jarring counterpoint to Robson and Safechuck’s graphic accounts of the abuse they say they suffered from Jackson over several years. ... The documentary maker’s credulity is valiant, but it also prevents Leaving Neverland from achieving the same scope as his other works like Three Days Of Terror (another HBO production) or his Emmy-nominated documentary, Terror In Mumbai.

As a documentary in the strictest sense of the word, Leaving Neverland is a failure. As a reckoning, though, it is unforgettable.

The power of "Leaving Neverland" lies in the faces of the two men telling their stories, and the anguish of mothers trying to measure their own complicity. It’s hard not to see truth in those faces, but no doubt many will continue to resist.