The cinematography here, I imagine, would start with a nostalgic, almost grainy texture, subtly desaturated to evoke the past of his early Motown days, slowly bleeding into a kinetic explosion of hyper-saturated, almost blindingly vibrant hues as Michael ascends to his iconic solo career. Pacing would be a masterful rhythm of hushed, intimate reflections on his complex private world, punctuated by exhilarating, almost disorienting bursts of performance energy. You'd feel the pulsating rhythm of his ambition, the lens often drawing you into his isolated, yet magnificent world, bathed in the incandescent glow of the spotlight.
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