Michael Jackson’s ‘Dangerous’ Turns 30: Engaging Pop Culture Without Losing the Gospel
Dangerous is the greatest gospel album ever marketed as “pop music.”
I know, I know. That statement screams “wild fan theory.” But only a few people know what he went through to make this true work of art.
Let me show you how Michael Jackson engaged pop culture without losing the Gospel.
ACT I: HEAVY CROWN
It’s 1983, and Jackson is 25 years old. The demand for his sixth solo album, Thriller, is on par with the hula-hoop. Everyone must have it. Meanwhile, he’s calling John Branca’s office in a panic.
Heavy breathing is all the attorney hears before the line dies. Branca calls the pop star back—no answer. The following day, Michael gets a hold of himself and calls Branca again. He asks if he still has the tapes for the Thriller short film. They’re in the processing lab. “Then, I want you to destroy them,” Jackson commands. “No one must ever see the short film.” He hangs up again.
Michael calls back for an update; John finally gets a chance to ask what’s happening. The Jehovah’s Witnesses threaten to expel him from the church if he releases the 13-minute project. He’s already hurt from them calling his Motown 25 routine “dirty burlesque dancing.” Now, they deem Thriller as “demonic” with its werewolf body horror and dancing zombies. After some negotiating, Branca suggests that Jackson include a disclaimer; Michael thinks it’s a brilliant idea.
“Bullsh*t,” Thriller director John Landis sneers. “No way.” Branca says, “Look, man. If there’s no disclaimer, then there’ll be no video.” He explains the whole story to Landis. “This kid’s in bad shape, isn’t he?” the director wonders. (Branca doesn’t comment out of respect for the pop icon.)
It’s early 1987, and Jackson is taking a break from recording Bad to film Smooth Criminal. He’s playing an Al Capone-era gangster in a 1930s nightclub inspired by Fred Astaire’s The Band Wagon. Actors Gregory Peck, Hermes Pan, and Robert De Niro visit the set to see the master at work. Meanwhile, a few Jehovah’s Witnesses watch from afar in disappointment.
They feel the violent imagery could be a bad reflection of their traditions. “Certain things I did as an artist in my music, I didn’t realize I was crossing a line with them,” Jackson says. “And when they chastised me, it really hurt me. It almost destroyed me. My mother saw it.” He does all he can to honor their teachings. He goes door-to-door in disguise, evangelizing to the locals. Now, the God of his childhood reminds him too much of his strict father, Joseph.
A few months later, Jackson leaves the Jehovah’s Witness faith. His mother feels hurt; she’s no longer allowed to discuss matters of faith with her son. (Author Gary Botting claims: “If you willfully reject God’s only organization on Earth, that’s the unforgivable sin… the sin against the Holy Spirit.”)
ACT II: THE WAY FORWARD
It’s 1989, and Jackson is home from his 16-month-long Bad World Tour. With success and wealth beyond his wildest dreams, he’s free from prying eyes and flashing cameras in his 2,700-acre Neverland Ranch. Yet, as magical and dreamlike as his $22 million mansion is, Michael can’t outrun the buried impact of his past. “My childhood was completely taken away from me,” he recalls. “There was no Christmas; there were no birthdays. It was not a normal childhood; no normal pleasures of childhood. Those were exchanged for hard work, struggle, and pain.”
On top of all that, he grew up believing the slightest mistake would bring down God’s wrath. But as the pop star begins to heal from his past trauma, he learns that if you live for people’s acceptance, you’ll die from their rejection. It’s fair to call out Christians for hypocrisy and corruption. It’s unfair to think it is God’s fault when they imitate Him poorly. Don’t turn “people wounds” into “God wounds.”
Along the way to restoration, he develops a renewed faith in Jesus, impacting his art. “For me, the form God takes is not the most important thing. What’s most important is the essence. My songs and dances are outlines for him to come in and fill,” he writes in Dancing the Dream. “The infinity of God’s creation embraces me. We are one!” On his next album, Jackson wants the world to see him as a person, not a personality.
Now, it’s late 1991, and Sony is ready to release Dangerous, but Michael can’t put down the paintbrush. His perfectionism is in high gear.
- He wants it to sell 100 million copies. (“Gotta outdo Bad, gotta outdo Thriller,” he reminds his associates.)
- He has seven different studios working all at once, costing upwards of $10 million. (His incredible team of engineers has been mixing songs for weeks.)
- He wants to get as close to perfect as possible. (While recording “Keep the Faith,” Jackson runs out of the studio without warning. Engineer Bruce Swedien finds the pop star in his office, standing in a corner, crying. He’s upset that he can’t sing the song in the right key. “He was absolutely heartbroken,” Swedien remembers. “He was very hard on himself.”)
In MJ’s world, deadlines mean nothing; having hot tracks mean nothing. He only has one rule: It must be the best.
His final masterstroke is getting one more person’s opinion: Quincy Jones. Going into Dangerous, he’s eager to silence his doubters who say his old mentor was the reason for his success. After 28 months of work, MJ sends him a copy of the new album and waits for his feedback. Q’s response: “It’s a masterpiece!”
Finally, the moment—his moment—is here!
ACT III: BEHIND THE MASK
Before hearing a single music note, the mind-bending album cover stares back at us. It has an attitude. The catch is that painter Mark Ryden, who spent six months creating it, won’t share its hidden meanings. How do we begin to understand this diverse, vibrant world? Look at it through Michael Jackson’s eyes.
One source of inspiration came from his 1988 short film, Leave Me Alone. The Grammy award-winning clip sends him on a carnival ride through gossip rumors. His global fame cornered him more than ever before. His private life made him a lightning rod for criticism, from the barbershops to the pulpits. Michael did feed some stories to the media to keep people talking. That soon backfired once the tabloids wrote stories of their own, fact or fiction. Onstage, for him, was home. It was where he felt most comfortable. But once he got offstage, he would cry from loneliness. He was, for better or worse, “the greatest show on Earth.”
Similarly, Dangerous is a faithful illustration of the mass hysteria around him. Behind the animals, angels, and circus lights is a human being in survival mode. Those “masks” from his lost childhood protect him from a world that doesn’t understand him. He’s tucked away, peering out, longing for acceptance. With a lifetime spent under the spotlight, the pop star did what many people do when they’re vulnerable: hide.
Another source of inspiration was Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights. Jackson admired all kinds of art from childhood to his final years. The 15th-century mosaic has fascinated many art buffs by capturing Genesis 1–3 in vivid brushstrokes.
- The left panel is the earliest encounter between God and humanity in its purest form.
- The center panel is humanity following its selfish desires instead of God.
- The right panel shows how jacked up the world is when humanity stops seeing God as better.
Like Bosch, Jackson wanted to create something for the ages. Dangerous is a snapshot of humanity in survival mode. We look for anyone or anything we believe makes us valuable and justifies our existence. But the human heart is an idol-making factory. Our selfish desires turn the world upside down, with nothing but destruction left in its wake. No matter how good someone or something might be here, it can never be God. We’re not designed to get our value from created things. Stirred by the heart of God, Michael realized he couldn’t heal under masks; wounds need air. He went to God for affirmation and made peace with his trauma by turning his scars into powerful stories.
All in all, Dangerous takes us on a 77-minute, emotional rollercoaster ride through life. It shows us that being human is exciting but messy.
- It gives our fears and anxieties names (“Jam,” “Who Is It”).
- It lifts us out of our skin (“Black or White”) and places us in another (“Why You Wanna Trip on Me,” “Gone Too Soon”).
- It brings out the fire in our hearts (“Remember the Time,” “Can’t Let Her Get Away,” “Give in to Me”).
- It also brings out the fire down below (“In the Closet,” “She Drives Me Wild,” “Dangerous”).
But wherever we are on the rollercoaster ride of life, we can trust that God is with us.
- We can find unconditional love in His arms because He will never leave or forsake us (“Will You Be There”).
- We can find strength in Him because He is near the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (“Keep the Faith”).
- We can use our God-given talents and resources to make the world a better place (“Heal the World”).
FINAL THOUGHTS
Michael Jackson was never shy about his ambitions for Dangerous. “I wanted to do an album like Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite,” he told Ebony/Jet in 1992. “So that in a thousand years from now, people would still be listening to it.” He achieved that goal with hard work, determination, swagger, and drive. Jackson was sometimes childish and stubborn. But he was always beaming with talent and chasing greatness.
In the same interview, he revealed he was more purpose-driven than popularity-driven. “My goal in life is to give to the world what I was lucky to receive: the divine union through my music and my dance. It’s, like, my purpose. It’s what I’m here for.” And that purpose ran deep. So deep that it almost makes his Nutcracker Suite goal an afterthought. Michael’s ultimate goal was to leave the world a little better than how he found it.
It’s one thing to make great art that sells millions of records. It’s another thing to make great art with a Biblical worldview. Michael Jackson did both on his path to creative freedom and renewed faith. If Dangerous isn’t the G.O.A.T., show me what is.
