A friend wrote last night that “there’s a rumor starting that Eddie Murphy wants to play Michael Jackson in a biopic.” Patently absurd on more levels than I’d care to list, I wrote back. He’s too old, for one thing. He doesn’t remotely resemble Jackson. His voice is all wrong. He isn’t willowy or feathery or girly enough. “I don’t even know why I’m pointing this stuff out because it’s one of the silliest casting ideas I’ve heard in ages,” I concluded.

There’s a film, obviously, in Jackson’s story. But it would have to be called The Damned or, if the producers want to sound less judgmental, How To Ruin Your Life. And they’d need to cast someone who would look exactly like him and could obviously play him to a T. Someone young, androgynous, unknown. Wait…it just hit me. They should do a Cate Blanchett in I’m Not There and cast a young African-American woman. I’m serious.

Does the idea of re-using the title of of Luchino Visconti‘s 1969 classic seem harsh to anyone? Think again. But first re-read all the articles that Maureen Orth wrote about Jackson for Vanity Fair, particularly an April 2003 piece called “Losing His Grip” and a March 2004 followup called “Neverland’s Lost Boys.”