"I Am: Celine Dion" is now streaming on Prime Video. This doc is a must-see for fans at any level. Review.
In the wake of a rare diagnosis that threatened to derail her 40-year music career, Canadian singer Celine Dion allowed a documentary crew into her Las Vegas home to introduce a new side of herself in I Am: Celine Dion. Considering all the sides she's already presented to audiences over decades of concerts, albums, and TV appearances, this in and of itself is an achievement, as Dion is as multifaceted as a diamond.
One side of her is the belter of rousing love songs, like '90s hits "Because You Loved Me," "It's All Coming Back to Me Now," or the Titanic theme, "My Heart Will Go On." Beyond these glamorous romantic tracks, she's got a dizzying catalog of songs in French and English, with which she has toured the world, won five Grammy Awards, built a big and fervent fandom, and created a successful Las Vegas residency. Her performance style is eccentric, led by confidence, bespoke jumpsuits, and a flinging of limbs that is unapologetically enthusiastic — if not a bit goofy. It's little wonder that she's inspired the bizarre unofficial biopic Aline, the off-Broadway jukebox musical Titanique, and countless drag queens. But that's not all.
In I Am: Celine Dion, which is peppered with concert footage and home movies, the world-famous singer also reminds us of her funny side, with clips from her Titanic boat ride performance for The Late Late Show with James Corden and giving her all for another theme song, "Out of Ashes" for Deadpool 2.
Watching such clips one after another, I Am: Celine Dion urges audiences to recognize that while Dion takes her craft seriously, she refuses to take herself seriously. Her diva stage persona is bolstered by a quirky ability to laugh at her own indulgences. Her ability to make us cry through her song is born from the vulnerability she shares generously. And with this documentary, she's more vulnerable than fans have ever seen her before.
If you're looking for a bog-standard documentary that baby steps audiences from Dion's Quebec childhood to her career launch at Eurovision '88 through her controversial romance with her manager, the late René Angélil, and on to mega-stardom — look elsewhere. Documentarian Irene Taylor refuses to be so predictable.
There will be no talking heads of colleagues or influenced artists or critics or historians weighing in on who Dion is. Instead, this doc is firmly rooted in Dion talking about herself, which is inherently fascinating. While some divas might be seeking overt control over their narrative, determined to keep anything unglamorous or potentially damning off-screen, Dion is willing to show us not just her personal life but also her harrowing battle with stiff person syndrome, a rare neurological disorder that causes stiffness and seizures of the muscles.
In interviews, Dion explains the long journey of getting this diagnosis, the prescribed medications she took to stave it off so she could perform, and the hardships now that these coping methods no longer serve her. The progression of the disease could mean the end of her performing career, a possibility she is openly terrified about. But it's not that her work or her art is all she has. Dion is up front about the many blessings in her life, like her family.
The film begins with a playful interview in which Taylor steps aside to let the singer's teen sons, Nelson and Eddy, offer some questions of their own. Even when the question seems simple — "What's your favorite color?" — Dion regards it thoughtfully, inviting in their perspective. Often, she appears in these at-home interviews with little to no make-up on. Yet this doesn't feel like a ploy to paint her as just like us.
One sequence — perhaps the film's funniest — shows Dion touring her personal warehouse of mementos, which includes everything from haute couture worn on red carpets to crayon drawings from her children, all lovingly stored and inventoried. It's that scene from Hacks, but more remarkable because this is real. Surrounded by essentially a museum of Celine Dion, it's somehow both sweet and silly to hear the singer go on a rant about how she loves shoes so much she will will them to fit, size be damned! "When a girl loves her shoes," she explains, "She always makes them fit." In this, she seems relatable, but also defiant in a way that is distinctly Dion.
But for all these tender moments, there are some really tough ones.
As teased in the film's trailer, the documentary does present footage of Dion in a prolonged and painful seizure. Early on, Taylor shows a brief clip of this sequence, which cynics might think of as a way to tantalize with the shocking climax. But considering the clear affection the film has for its subject — swirling in a cycle of current confessions to nostalgic highlights of Dion's career — I suspect this early moment is more a warning of what's to come. Not intended to hang like a looming cloud over the sunshine that is Dion reflecting on her life and playing with her children during COVID lockdown, this brief clip is about giving the audience a chance to brace themselves for how hard this will get.
However, while the seizure scene is alarming — both for the clear distress Dion is in and for the intense intimacy of seeing such a private moment — there's something even more shocking here. Celine Dion allows us to see her fail.
In an interview, she explains how stiff person syndrome has impaired her vocal cords, making it harder than ever before for her to hit those high notes that dazzle audiences worldwide. Within that, she struggles with her identity. Who is she if not the Celine Dion who can hit the notes that makes us all drop jaw in awe? Who is Celine Dion if not her?
So, when she lets the cameras into a studio session, it feels even more personal than letting us in on the medical alert. Here she is, before the mic, and we know how scared she is that this is it. This could be her defeat, the end of the concerts, the cheering, the connecting, the end of her career. The tension is awful as we witness her fight with her own body. I Am: Celine Dion shows audiences how raw and real her struggle to reclaim the life and vocation she loves is. There will be no chipper Hollywood ending, promising us that the tough times are behind her and her next world tour is just around the corner. Instead, the film leaves us in a moment of mixed emotions, where Dion has found a win in reclaiming her voice but a loss in her body's reaction to that.
Essentially, I Am: Celine Dion is a tale of resilience. While many music docs look to bolster legends or build legacies, Dion's ends on a bit of an ellipsis, uncertain what might come next for her. But as the past footage of good times (her concerts, her TV appearances, home movies of the birth of first-born) and bad (her husband's funeral, her slipping up on stage), there's a gentle reminder that she is not just what she can do, but also what she can endure.
Far from a fluffy documentary that fawns over its subject, I Am: Celine Dion is a roller-coaster of emotions that leaves audiences with a mix of elation and uncertainty. But most incredibly, it gives one of music's biggest stars her voice back.
How to watch: I Am: Celine Dion is now streaming on Prime Video.
