'Victory' finally arrives in a blaze of ordinary

Originally published September 2, 1984

After months of news reports, rumor and hype, the Jacksons ' " Victory " tour finally arrived at Philadelphia's John F. Kennedy Stadium last night, and guess what? " Victory " isn't the greatest show on earth. It isn't the apotheosis of pop. On the other hand, it isn't an abomination in the sight of Chuck Berry, either. It is a good, ordinary rock concert, exceptional only in its being overpriced.

" Victory " might have been more aptly called the "Obscuring Michael Jackson " tour. Last night, there were so many flashing lights, billowing smoke clouds, fireworks, lasers and magic tricks crammed into a skimpy 106 minutes that many people at JFK Stadium undoubtedly had a hard time seeing what they came for: Michael in the flesh, singing and dancing.

The evening began with a silly tableau out of an elementary-school play: Big, hokey-costumed monsters called Kreetons lumbered around the stage while an off-stage narrator intoned solemn piffle about "predawn people who ruled the world. " In comes a knight in shining armor who pulls a fake sword out of a fake stone that has been conveniently wheeled onstage. Then - boom! - fireworks.

The whole thing threatened to turn into an outtake from a 1950s Japanese horror movie - Godzilla Eats the Jacksons , perhaps. Finally, the Jacksons interrupted this impressive display of bad acting and hollow special effects. The five brothers emerged from beneath the floor of the stage to sing "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin. ' " Michael, Randy, Marlon, Tito and Jermaine Jackson - putative authors of the hogwash that had preceded them - may not know beans about staging an action scene, but they are expert entertainers. And Michael, at least, is considerably more than that.

To the crowd of children, teenagers and adults that filled JFK Stadium, the biggest surprise may have been the sight of Michael Jackson at full throttle. As the most overexposed celebrity in the world, Michael has adopted a passive public image. In news conferences or out on a mock date with Brooke Shields, he wears mirrored sunglasses and affects a weak, whispery voice - Michael makes Andy Warhol look like Mr. T. But on this tour, the singer reminds his old fans of, and introduces his new ones to, another side of Michael Jackson : the livid, aggressive soul singer.

The Jacksons , backed by a terse six-piece band, performed many of their best-known songs - "Heartbreak Hotel," "Rock With You," "Lovely One," ''Shake Your Body" -and a medley of Motown songs including "I Want You Back" and "The Love You Save. " Throughout, Michael sang with intense fervor, a harsh grimace frequently crossing his face as he delivered impassioned lines. This was not the wallflower megastar the media has covered to death; this was the edgy, bold rock singer whom we see all too rarely.

It is only in performance - not in interviews or at social functions - that Michael Jackson becomes a worthy pop star. At JFK Stadium, he punched out the rhythm of "Lovely One" and "Working Day and Night" with sharp phrasing and violent snaps of his body. He sang "She's Out of My Life" as if he were the logical successor to Al Jolson and Jackie Wilson - emoting extravagantly, seizing on a sappy lyric and lending it a passion it would not ordinarily possess.

By the end of the show, his two inevitable set pieces - the huge hits ''Beat It" and "Billie Jean" - had been placed in proper perspective. Michael merely reproduced the moves and sounds he makes in those songs' famous videos. But his performances preceding those songs convince you that Michael-mania started out, at least, as a recognition of his idiosyncratic talent.

Jermaine Jackson sang three songs in the middle of the show, including his new hit, "Dynamite. " The rest of the brothers smiled and worked hard.

The major problem with the " Victory " tour is that the show is so rigidly programmed, there is no room for the Jacksons to be - or even feign being - spontaneous. In structuring the show so precisely, the Jacksons and their promoters have removed an essential pleasure of rock concertgoing. Fans do not go to these shows to hear rote reproductions of songs they have heard hundreds of times; they go to hear these songs become personalized, to watch the musicians give new, fresh meaning to their work.

There was little of this at JFK Stadium last night. Aside from the group's greatest hits, there was also a long, drawn-out scene in which Michael is ''attacked" by two huge, mechanical spiders made of metal and gleaming

lights.

As befits a city that helped nurture the Jacksons ' career a decade ago, the Philadelphia audience was far more demonstrative than the Kansas City crowd that greeted the Jacksons ' kickoff concert on July 6. The Philadelphia fans stood on their seats and cheered, yelled and screamed through the length of the show.

Much of the Jacksons ' music emerged from the sound system as a screechy blare for those sitting down on the field, and Michael's microphone frequently gave his voice a harsh, metallic edge. The farther from the stage, however, the more the sound improved; the music became clearer up along the sides of the stadium.