A few months after the King of Pop faced his first public sexual abuse allegations, Vanity Fair reporter Maureen Orth wrote in January 1994 that even by Hollywood standards, Michael Jacksons weirdness is legendary, but he has always been protected by the armor of his celebrity.

Almost no one, especially those C.E.O.s and moguls who make millions off him, has ever really questioned his motives: why this reclusive man-child with no known history of romantic relationships prefers to live a fantasy life in the company of children, Orth wrote of Jackson, who later privately settled with accuser Jordan Chandler.

At its core, HBOs Leaving Neverland is a devastating and searing excavation of how sexual abuse can tear apart the lives of accusers and their families. But particularly in its second half, airing Monday night, the documentary hints at how Jacksons otherworldly superstardom enabled his alleged abuse to evade major scrutiny from the media during much of his career.

As with many sexual misconduct cases, media outlets faced the challenge of corroborating the allegations against Jackson. According to Orths 1994 article, some saw them as too salacious to cover.

Orth went on to detail how people often took their stories about Jackson to the tabloids because they would get paid by the profitable and ever growing celebrity-gossip mill. Reputable outlets such as The New York Times and Los Angeles Times didnt extensively cover Chandlers allegations in 1993, and when they did, they instead focused on the response from Jacksons team, who claimed the singer had been extorted.

A lot of people simply did not want to believe that Michael Jackson could molest little boys, and the tepid Establishment-press coverage reflected the publics repugnance and ambivalence, Orth wrote.

Jackson, who died in 2009, was the product of a machine of celebrity mythmaking, in which reporters, fans, and the people in his orbit including Leaving Neverland accusers Wade Robson and James Safechuck and their families became sometimes unwitting participants.

The machine continues to this day, as Jacksons family , estate , and ardent fans have protested the documentary , and subjected Robson, Safechuck, and director Dan Reed to threats .

A look at media coverage of Jackson from the 1980s and early 1990s shows how that machine may have made it easier for the world to look the other way.

With the help of a savvy team of handlers who went after his critics, Jackson controlled his image.

Jackson, who denied the multiple abuse charges made during his lifetime and was acquitted after a 2005 trial, had plenty of defenders who thought the accusations were intended to take him down. A GQ cover story in 1994 opined over whether he had been framed, calling the coverage of the 1993 allegations one of the nations worst episodes of media excess.

Diane Dimond, a reporter for the TV tabloid show Hard Copy, broke the story on the initial allegations in 1993, but discovered sources close to Jackson had either been instructed not to talk or wanted money.

They say, Id like to tell you something about Michael. Hes a dear sweet boy, and for $5,000 Ill come on and tell you this. It absolutely has impeded me from presenting a full Jackson side of the story, she said in 1994.

According to Vanity Fair , she received threats from Jacksons representatives (which they denied). Dimond later wrote that fans attacked her outside her office, someone broke into her car on one occasion, and my office phone was tapped by Jacksons private detective (confirmed to me by FBI sources), she said in 2005.