Timberlake offered a vague apology on Instagram to both Spears and Jackson in February, admitting he "benefited from a system that condones misogyny and racism." Of course, a better apology might have been to say this in interviews for any of the New York Times documentaries on either artist. But the film also notes Timberlake and Jackson share the same publicist, indicating they must not be too cross with each other.

What the documentary does well, is explain how controversy over the incident – which Frattini admits happened so quickly she didn't initially notice it – was fueled in part by conservative activists who had been advocating stricter crackdowns on TV and radio content for years.

Back then, broadcast TV and radio outlets dominated the media landscape. The Federal Communications Commission had the power to fine broadcasters for presenting material it found to be indecent, and eventually tried to levy a $550,000 fine against CBS, which was eventually thrown out by an appeals court.

In modern times, with a media landscape dominated by streaming services, cable channels and online platforms not regulated by the FCC, it almost feels quaint to see a time when a flash of nudity drew such condemnation. Especially at a sporting event which features the violence of professional football and the sexiness of scantily-clad cheerleaders.

That may be the biggest reason why this documentary feels less impactful than other projects urging us to reconsider past scandals distorted by sexism and racism; unlike Spears' conservatorship, what happened to Jackson is not ongoing as the film airs.

She survived the scandal, was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and has a two-night documentary of her own set to air on A&E and Lifetime early next year, promising to tell her life story her way. And the concern about conservative crackdowns on media content has been obliterated by the Internet.

Still, Malfunction: The Dressing Down of Janet Jackson serves as an important reminder of how differently the nation viewed sexual content on TV less than two decades ago, sparked by a high-profile stunt that pushed society's buttons in ways none of the performers seemed to anticipate.