Those other men who died this year — Mr. Bowie and Prince and Prince Be — also managed to do interesting stuff with race: to sing black music while white; to be a world-class black guitarist in any genre; to be a fat, bohemian rapper who sang. For all Mr. Michael did to make gayness interesting and less threatening, he might have done more to help erase a barrier between who should and should not sing soul music. In his prime, he was a relatively frictionless ambassador among the races. He didn’t cross all the way over, as Teena Marie did. He didn’t “sound black.” He sounded like himself — and that was enough to land him near the top of the black music charts. “I Knew You Were Waiting for Me,” from 1987, is still the best Aretha Franklin duet. Mr. Michael’s black support was never an exploitative exhortation. It was never “Go, white boy! Go, white boy! Go!” It was: “Oh, he gets it.” And by 2016, he wasn’t done mattering.

Last spring, Key & Peele’s stoner, shoot-em-up comedy, “Keanu,” came and went. But there’s a running gag that’s stayed with me. It’s just three Los Angeles thugs and one uptight bureaucrat named Clarence (Keegan Michael Key) pretending to be a thug (long story; a good one, though) chilling in Clarence’s minivan. To pass the time, they turn to the fake thug’s iPhone for music, and up comes George Michael’s “Freedom! ’90.” One dude says, “That sounds kinda white.” And Clarence begins a quick defense of his taste, studded with the n-word, that also makes a flashy British pop star sound like a gangsta from Crenshaw.

The sequence culminates with their being oblivious to the shootout in the house they’re parked in front of, belting “One More Try” like a pack of wolves baying at the moon. For about 25 minutes, “Keanu” is smarter than the bad action comedy it turns out to be. And one thing it’s brilliant about is the partial meaning of George Michael.

Who knows if Mr. Michael found that annoying. Who knows if he was aware that “Keanu” existed. But the crush this movie has on him is the crush almost everybody did. At some point, Clarence takes a hit of some hot new street drug, and the first place his high takes him is dancing with Mr. Michael in the “Faith” video. He’s up where even Mr. Michael’s slowest, saddest music could take you. He’s in heaven.