• Michael Jackson's nephew, Jaafar Jackson, is portraying the King of Pop in the new biopic "Michael."
• Jaafar is the son of Michael's brother, Jermaine Jackson, and Alejandra Genevieve Oaziaza.
• He had no dance training or acting experience before being cast in "Michael," but he did make music.

Jaafar Jackson is the buzziest new name from one of the most influential families in show business.

The 29-year-old Los Angeles native steps into the moonwalking shoes of his late uncle, Michael Jackson, in the new blockbuster biopic "Michael."

Directed by Antoine Fuqua ("Training Day," "The Equalizer") and written by John Logan ("Gladiator," "Skyfall"), "Michael" follows Jackson's career from the Jackson 5 era in the '60s to the "Bad" era in the '80s.

The biopic has the support of the Jackson estate — but that's not the reason Michael Jackson's nephew was cast in the role.

"It wasn't about what he was saying or even his look. It was just a feeling of rightness that was so strong I couldn't ignore it," Graham King, who previously produced the Oscar-winning Queen biopic "Bohemian Rhapsody," said of meeting Jaafar during the casting process.

"I felt something a bit like it when Rami Malek walked into my office and said, 'I'd love to play Freddie Mercury,'" King told NME. "But this took it to a whole new level. There was something so spiritual about Jaafar that just talking with him about Michael got me emotional. We looked at nearly 200 actors around the globe, and no one could beat Jaafar."

Here's everything to know about Jaafar, his career, and his relationships with the Jacksons.

Jaafar is the son of Jermaine Jackson and Alejandra Genevieve Oaziaza.

Jaafar's father, Jermaine, was one of the original members of the Jackson 5, along with his brothers, Jackie, Tito, Marlon, and Michael.

Jermaine was the group's second lead vocalist (Michael was first) until he left to pursue solo stardom in 1975. He was replaced by his youngest brother, Randy, and the group rebranded to The Jacksons.

Jaafar's mother, Alejandra Genevieve Oaziaza, was born in Colombia. She graduated from UCLA with a degree in fashion design and marketing, per her LinkedIn, and more recently launched Alejandra Jackson Designs.

Before Jermaine and Alejandra began dating, she was in a relationship with Jermaine's brother, Randy. Although they never married, Alejandra and Randy had two children together: a daughter, Genevieve, who was born in 1989, and a son, Randy Jr., born in 1992.

"Randy didn't treat me like I was the one," Alejandra told the New York Post's Stacy Brown. "I just thought that Jermaine was different, that he was more family-oriented."

Jermaine and Alejandra married on March 18, 1995, per People. They welcomed Jaafar on July 25, 1996, followed by his brother, Jermajesty, in 2000.

Jermaine filed for divorce from Alejandra in 2004. It was finalized in 2008 with Alejandra winning physical custody of Jaafar and Jermajesty, TMZ reported at the time.

Jaafar Jackson makes his acting debut portraying his famous uncle in "Michael."

"Michael" producer Graham King and casting director Kimberly Hardin conducted a worldwide search before offering the role to Jaafar, per NME.

One major snag? Jaafar had no formal dance training or acting credits before "Michael," save for one episode of "The Jacksons: Next Generation," a 2015 reality show that followed the lives of his cousins, Taj, Taryll, and TJ (then known as the R&B-pop trio 3T).

Jaafar has said he rehearsed for three years — two of which were part of the audition process — and worked with Michael's former choreographers, Rich and Tone Talauega, to learn his uncle's signature dance moves.

"We had to take that syllabus and then infuse it into Jaafar," Rich said on the KTLA 5 Morning News. "But let me tell you, man, he's a Jackson, you know, he has this talent deep down inside his DNA. It just took us some time, but we pulled it out of him, and the work that he put into it was exceptional."

Jaafar already shared his uncle's musical ambitions; he began playing the piano at age 12 and released his debut single, "Got Me Singing," in 2019. His website cites Sam Cooke, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Nat King Cole, Johnny Mathis, and "his own family's rich musical heritage" as key influences.

Jaafar Jackson isn't actually singing in "Michael."

Bucking the recent biopic trend of actors singing live on set — like Timothée Chalamet as Bob Dylan and Jeremy Allen White as Bruce Springsteen — Jaafar did not rely on his own voice to carry the musical scenes in "Michael."

Instead, the hit songs featured in the movie are "gloriously remastered and superbly lip-synched," according to Deadline's chief film critic Pete Hammond.

When it came to dancing and choreography, Jaafar said his goal was not to impersonate his uncle, but rather to embody his performance style.

"That was a challenge," Jaafar told Entertainment Tonight. "Hitting every moment, every beat, but also having the energy and the showmanship behind the moves, too."

Jaafar named "Billie Jean" — specifically Michael's 1983 performance of the song on the TV special "Motown 25" — as the hardest sequence to nail while filming.

Jaafar's performance in "Michael" has the support of Michael's mom, brothers, and sons.

When Jaafar landed the lead role in "Michael," he received a vote of confidence from a core member of his family: Michael's mother, Katherine Jackson.

"Jaafar embodies my son," Katherine said in a press release. "It's so wonderful to see him carry on the Jackson legacy of entertainers and performers."

The movie's executive producers include Michael's eldest son, Prince Jackson, and three of his brothers: Jermaine, Jackie, and Marlon.

All four men attended the Los Angeles premiere of "Michael" at the Dolby Theatre, alongside Michael's middle sister, LaToya Jackson — a strong show of support from the Jackson family.

"It was a process that I really had to earn, and it really proved to the filmmakers and myself and my family that I can get to that point where I can pull it off," Jaafar told Today. "I honestly wouldn't be able to pull this off if I didn't have the support."

Michael's other three siblings — his eldest sister, Rebbie Jackson, his youngest sister, Janet Jackson, and his youngest brother, Randy — were not in attendance and will not be portrayed in the biopic. (Michael's father, Joe Jackson, played by Colman Domingo, died in 2018. Michael's brother Tito, played by Rhyan Hill, died in 2024.)

"I wish everybody was in the movie," LaToya told Variety on the red carpet. On Janet's absence specifically, LaToya added, "She was asked, and she kindly declined, so you have to respect her wishes."

Meanwhile, Michael's daughter, Paris Jackson, has criticized the biopic as "sugar-coated" and clarified that she had "zero percent involvement" in the production.

Paris said she was asked to read one of the first drafts of the "Michael" script and gave notes about details that she felt were "dishonest," but she was told that her notes wouldn't be addressed.

"I just butted out and left it alone because it's not my project," Paris wrote on Instagram. "They're going to make whatever they're going to make. A big reason why I haven't said anything up until this point is because I know a lot of you guys are gonna be happy with it."

"A big section of the film panders to a very specific section of my dad's fandom that still lives in the fantasy," she added.

Neither Paris nor her younger brother, Bigi Jackson, joined Prince at the film's star-studded Los Angeles premiere — although Bigi did make a rare appearance to attend the "Michael" premiere in Berlin earlier in the month.

Paris is now involved in a complicated legal battle with the Jackson estate over the movie's financials. The estate has fired back that Paris has "a complete lack of understanding about how the motion picture industry works and the role of producers in it."

• Ye, aka Kanye West, has been blocked from traveling to the UK, the UK government said on Tuesday.
• Ye was set to headline all three days of London's Wireless Festival, which has been canceled.
• UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer said the decision was made to "protect the public and uphold our values."

Ye, formerly known as Kanye West, has been blocked from traveling to the UK in light of his history with antisemitism.

The UK government told the BBC on Monday that Ye applied for an Electronic Travel Authorization (ETA) to travel to the UK but was denied on the grounds that his presence "would not be conducive to the public good."

Ye had been scheduled to headline all three days of London's Wireless Festival in July, which has since been canceled.

"As a result of the Home Office banning YE from entering the United Kingdom, Wireless Festival has been forced to cancel," the event's website reads as of Tuesday morning. "All ticket holders will receive an automatic full refund."

The government's decision comes after several of the festival's sponsors, including Pepsi and Anheuser-Busch InBev, withdrew from the event. Although neither brand explicitly cited Ye as the reason for their withdrawal, UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer had recently spoken out against Ye's scheduled performances.

"It is deeply concerning Kanye West has been booked to perform at Wireless despite his previous antisemitic remarks and celebration of Nazism," Starmer said in a statement to the British newspaper The Sun.

After the UK government confirmed that Ye would not be allowed to enter the country, Starmer cosigned the decision in a post on X.

"Kanye West should never have been invited to headline Wireless," Starmer wrote. "This government stands firmly with the Jewish community, and we will not stop in our fight to confront and defeat the poison of antisemitism. We will always take the action necessary to protect the public and uphold our values."

Ye did not respond to a request for comment.

Over the past decade, Ye has regularly been criticized for offensive and bigoted remarks, especially those described as antisemitic. In 2022, he peddled conspiracy theories about Jewish people controlling the entertainment industry and openly praised Adolf Hitler. Although Ye lost numerous business deals and brand partnerships in the fallout — reportedly losing his billionaire status as a result — he doubled down in 2025, when he wrote "I am a Nazi" on X and released a song titled "Heil Hitler."

More recently, Ye took out a full-page ad in The Wall Street Journal for a public apology, linking his outbursts to a 2002 car accident and what he described as an undiagnosed brain injury. He also said his bipolar disorder caused him to lose touch with reality.

"In that fractured state, I gravitated toward the most destructive symbol I could find, the swastika, and even sold T-shirts bearing it," Ye wrote. "I regret and am deeply mortified by my actions in that state, and am committed to accountability, treatment, and meaningful change. It does not excuse what I did though. I am not a Nazi or an antisemite. I love Jewish people."

The apology was published shortly before Ye's newest album was expected to be released. After multiple delays, "Bully" arrived on streaming platforms in late March.

Ye returned to the stage last week for a two-night stint at SoFi Stadium in Los Angeles. Both shows were sold out and reportedly grossed $33 million, proving that despite the UK government's objections, there is still an appetite for Ye's volatility among his loyal fans.

One morning in January, Gracie Nielson was scrolling TikTok when she discovered something that made her skin crawl.

The fashion, lifestyle, and beauty influencer with over 600,000 followers noticed a comment on one of her videos that directed her to a clip of a woman wearing low-slung blue jeans and a yellow crop top. Her face didn't resemble Nielson's, but the exact same outfit was hanging in Nielson's closet, and even the woman's body struck a familiar pose. Nielson realized it was a shot-for-shot replica of a video she'd posted months prior, down to the backdrop — a corner of Nielson's home in California. Intrigue quickly devolved into unease.

"That's so crazy. This is my house. This is my body, just with somebody else's face," Nielson recalled thinking. "It's just a really uncomfortable feeling."

The other woman in question may not be a woman at all, but a digital echo: Sienna Rose, aka @siennarosely, describes herself as a neo-soul singer who has over 1.5 million monthly listeners on Spotify. Her TikTok page is filled with uncanny videos where the star smiles and vamps — but never talks — to the camera. Though she's been plagued by accusations that she's AI-generated, Rose has never performed live; AI detection tools used by the streaming service Deezer have flagged Rose's music as AI-generated. Emails I sent to the address listed in Rose's TikTok bio went unanswered.

It's Nielson's job to make videos, so she made another TikTok to share her reaction to the discovery. "I'm so scared, you guys," she said, comparing her video to Rose's since-deleted one. The TikTok quickly went viral, amassing over 2.4 million views to date — confirmation that Nielson's shock had reverberated far beyond her usual audience.

"I even had a friend text me that day, and she was like, 'I did not know Sienna Rose was AI,'" Nielson said. "She's like, 'I have listened to her music before, completely not knowing that this is not a real person.'"

AI influencers are here, and if Nielson's case is any indication, you may not have even noticed. As artificial intelligence becomes increasingly sophisticated and accessible to the average person, employers, companies, and brands have begun investing in the technology to reduce labor costs. Number-crunchers aren't the only ones who are being replaced — creatives are feeling the heat, too. Now, there's AI music on the Billboard charts, AI used in Oscar-winning movies, and, of course, AI all over our social media feeds.

Just as influencers once stormed the internet — harnessing the then-new technology of social media to draw eyeballs, score paid sponsorships, and rake in advertising dollars previously reserved for traditional celebrities — digital avatars are now poised to flood the same market.

Ally Rooker, a part-time content creator with nearly 190,000 followers on TikTok, described having AI imitate real-life influencers to hawk products as nothing short of labor-busting.

"When I see influencers promoting generative AI video tools, I'm like, 'You don't understand the reason that you have a career,'" Rooker told Business Insider. "You don't understand how fragile what you're doing is, and how fragile your revenue is. Because you're promoting your replacement."

The multibillion-dollar creator economy was built on aspirational influencers who can promise their followers that a better life — or at least clearer skin, or a life-changing haircut, or a dream vacation — is just a swipe away. So what happens when a new crop of competitors is aspiration, personified: influencers who don't suffer from hormonal acne, bed head, or debilitating jet lag? Friendly, almost-human faces who don't need to eat, sleep, or even get paid?

AI influencers are already making money from brand deals

In a social media landscape where real people already use beauty filters and Photoshop, brands are going all in on artificiality. A 2025 survey of about 1,000 senior marketers in the UK and US from the social and influencer marketing agency Billion Dollar Boy found that roughly 79% said they are increasing investment in AI-generated creator content. Grand View Research estimates that the global virtual influencer market will reach $48.88 billion by 2030.

Real influencers fear that could translate into a lot of lost income.

"Why would Maybelline pay a real person if they can just pay an AI person that looks essentially the same?" Rooker said, using the popular beauty brand as an example. "The person scrolling Maybelline's Instagram doesn't need to know who it is in the video. They just have to think it's a real person."

Right now, "think" is the operative word. Disclosure requirements for AI influencers remain murky, and lawful uses of AI vary from state to state in the US. While many AI influencers are labeled as such in their bios — Aitana Lopez, a pink-haired fitness and fashion influencer calls herself a "digital soul," while Olivia Brand, a blonde Alex Cooper knock-off who generates inspirational podcast clips on TikTok, calls herself an "AI it-girl" — casual scrollers on their FYPs can easily remain oblivious to the fact that they've encountered AI at all.

Even if someone like Nielson could make the case for a right of publicity violation — alleging that a third party has taken her name, image, or likeness and used it for a commercial purpose without permission — lawsuits are expensive, and a worthwhile payoff isn't guaranteed.

All of this raises questions about how human influencers can continue to make a living if brands begin to favor their visually pristine, easily programmable counterparts. Those fears aren't unfounded: The Clueless, the Barcelona-based agency that created Aitana Lopez, among other hyper-realistic AI "stock models," pivoted away from hiring humans in the pandemic, citing their unpredictability and inconsistency as motivating factors.

Now, Aitana has three full-time partnerships, including one with a Spanish salon chain. She was recently used in a Black Friday campaign for Amazon. The Clueless creative director Andy García estimated that Aitana's assets — including her brand deals, paid posts, and bespoke "skincare" brand, Vellum, which is actually a software program to enhance the skin texture of AI avatars — generate about $75,000 to $100,000 a month. Other AI influencers also boast thriving careers: Lil Miquela, one of the original digital avatars, has partnered with Prada and Calvin Klein; Xania Monet landed a multimillion-dollar record deal; and Shudu, marketed as "the world's first digital supermodel," has starred in campaigns for Balmain and Hyundai.

García doesn't see her company's creation and other AI influencers as job-killers, but rather hurdles real humans have the tools to overcome.

"Right now, AI influencers are really not a threat to real influencers," she said. "It's like any opportunity, to which real influencers can adapt."

Many people still prefer to follow humans over robots

While brands may enjoy the control and cost efficiency digital avatars afford, when confronted directly with the question of AI, many consumers remain unconvinced.

Comment sections online are full of backlash against AI-generated ads and digital avatars, particularly those that seem designed to blend in with real people. Sienna Rose has inspired numerous sleuths to comb through her videos for copy-and-pasted details. (Suffice it to say that Nielson isn't the only creator whose backdrops and body movements appear to have been cloned on Rose's page.) Others have gone viral for protesting AI creep in daily life, from bots replacing customer service agents to stumbling across fake influencers on their feeds. When they're not being fooled by AI, many are irritated by it.

Cameron Mackintosh, a part-time content creator based in Nashville, said she was shocked and dismayed when she was briefly duped by an AI influencer on Instagram — and, even worse, when she noticed that people she knew in real life were following the account. Her video about the revelation blew up, amassing over 1.7 million views and hundreds of passionate comments.

"I would never want to read a story written by AI. I would never want to read a book written by AI. I wouldn't want to consume a painting that was created by a computer," Mackintosh told Business Insider.

As Business Insider reported in October, consumer backlash to AI accounts is causing some brands to retreat from the tech. In February, The New York Times compared the AI boom unfavorably to the "dot-com boom," citing a 2025 YouGov survey in which more than a third of respondents said they were "concerned that AI would end human life on earth."

Allison Fitzpatrick, an attorney in New York with experience in advertising and influencer marketing, told me that concerns about intellectual property and copyright infringement — not to mention the demand for real-human relatability that made influencers a force in the first place — have translated to a lack of interest in AI influencers among the brands that she works with.

"I think the human audience, the followers, are smart enough to know that between an influencer who is human and can actually taste the product or go on vacation and stay at the hotel or fly in the airline," she said. "You're going to take the human influencer's endorsement far more seriously than an AI influencer who's done none of what I've just described."

Influencers are ready to fight back

Influencers like Nielson aren't giving up hope yet. They say leaning into reality, not realism, will be key to staying in business.

"A lot of content creators, people like to follow them because they are relatable — people sharing skin issues or insecurities, for example," Nielson said. "That wouldn't really happen using an AI avatar because it's not human. It's not real."

Emily Higgins, a North Carolina-based content creator who also runs a social media consulting business, told me that as high-production-value content becomes the norm, she expects to see a renewed embrace of scripting hiccups, grainy footage, and other deliberate imperfections.

"If something's too highly produced or too perfect-seeming, then immediately, it can be dismissed as AI," Higgins said. "We're going to see people trying to create more flaws in their content. We'll see more human, emotional, raw kinds of elements."

Some brands are already leading the charge. Dove and Aerie have vowed not to use AI in their marketing materials, using slogans like "Real People Only" and "Keep Beauty Real." Aerie, which stopped retouching its models in 2014 — putting stretch marks, blemishes, and body diversity front and center — earned its most popular Instagram post in a year thanks to its anti-AI promise. Meanwhile, Heineken and Polaroid have explicitly mocked AI and Big Tech in recent ad campaigns.

Influencing is often dismissed as a low-effort profession, but at its core, it's an act of vulnerability. To broadcast your face and feelings to hundreds, thousands, or even millions of strangers requires nerve and resilience, neither of which AI can reproduce.

As a result, Mackintosh said she expects people to begin seeking out creators and brands that put visible effort into the creative process.

"There's this novelty about human creation, and I don't think that will ever go away," she said. "I always think it will be appreciated. I just think there will be less and less of it because, economically, it will be easier to fake."