But she didn't, although Michael himself went on to claim that as a child he had been teased about his looks and beaten by his father, and that even as an adult he was so frightened of him that he sometimes would "regurgitate" when his father would come to see him. Joseph Jackson has steadfastly denied abusing any of his children.
Happily, Winfrey never got around to asking Michael about his sexual orientation, which is no one else's business. But she could have asked him why he favored an eerie, androgynous look, why his voice was so high and why he sometimes wears bandages and a wrist brace while performing.
Inquiring minds wanted to know.
Meanwhile, you could almost hear the adding machines totaling receipts for "Michael Jackson Talks . . . to Oprah" and such related enterprises as Michael's new music video, "Give Into Me," which was given its world premiere during this TV bash. On other fiscal fronts, Winfrey devoted her daytime talk show Wednesday to advertising that evening's program, and promised to reveal on her Thursday show "the inside scoop on my interview with Michael Jackson."
Never one to let opportunity pass, KABC-TV Channel 7 on Wednesday devoted its entire 11 p.m. newscast, minus weather and sports, to "the inside story on Oprah and the Jacksons," as if nothing else happening in the world that day existed or mattered.
Not that anyone at the station would be sorry about such an omission. As with Michael, the music made them do it.
Although obviously a much different man than Michael Jackson, Mike Tyson in his own way remains just as much a mystery as he waits in an Indiana prison for Monday's scheduled appellate hearing on his conviction for the rape of beauty contestant Desiree Washington.
Tyson didn't merely fall, he crashed through the canvas.
You look at him--the tiny eyes, the gold tooth in the middle of his smile--and wonder what's going on inside his head. Filmmaker Kopple doesn't untangle the controlling interior wires, but her scintillating biography at least locates some of them.
This rare prime-time documentary, which NBC is calling a "reality film" for fear that the awful "D" word will menace viewers, at once moves and angers you in using interviews and old footage to trace the life of this former Brooklyn street hood who became a heavyweight champ at 20 and a convicted felon at 25.
More than just a story about Tyson's success and decline, culminating in the Washington rape conviction, the film examines a male environment in which violence against women is winked at. It also casts a youthful Tyson--a paradox even then--in an almost loving light, showing him as someone who almost in the same breath could express tenderness and speak about crime as being "exciting."
Even as a teen-ager, he was an insecure child inside a destroyer's body. There is some amazing footage here of a 15-year-old Tyson at the Catskills boxing compound of his surrogate father, Cus D'Amato, being held and comforted by trainer Teddy Atlas as he nervously sobs like a baby the night before a fight in which he would annihilate his opponent.
Kopple chronicles Tyson's rise as a heavyweight and the devastating impact of D'Amato's death, and the changes that occurred in him as he was battled over by the new people in his life, from Robin Givens to fast-talking boxing promoter Don King. It was Givens--to whom he was briefly wed in a stormy marriage--who "set Mike up for the Don King left hand," journalist Jack Newfield says.
It's while reviewing the Tyson/Washington rape case that "Fallen Champ" impales the Rev. Louis Farrakhan and other Tyson defenders who make light of the rape at a "Free Mike" rally. The footage is devastating.
Alluding to Washington saying she voluntarily went to Tyson's hotel room, where he raped her, Farrakhan gets huge laughs when he says:
"You bring in a hawk at the chicken yard and wonder why the chicken got eaten up. You bring Mike to a beauty contest, and all these foxes just parading in front of Mike. Mike's eyes begin to dance like a hungry man looking at a Wendy's beef burger or somethin'. . . ." While saying this, the Nation of Islam leader makes lewd, groping gestures with his hands.
Concerning Washington's testimony that she told Tyson she didn't want to have sex, Farrakhan adds with a smirk: "I mean, how many times, sisters, have you said no, and you mean yes all the time?" Then he mocks Washington, effecting a woman's squealing voice: "She said, 'No, Mike, No.' "
Appallingly, the laughter in the room speaks for itself. Just as a comment that sportswriter Jerry Izenberg says Tyson made to him in the late 1980s, when his life was coming apart, speaks for itself.
"How much more fun it used to be."