Arts & Culture

I Am: Celine Dion
Where: Prime
What: Movie, 102 mins.
When: Tue., June 25
Genre: Documentary
Rating: NNN (out of 5)
Why you should watch: If you love Celine Dion as much as she claims to love you.

I Am Celine Dion, the new documentary film on the Canadian singer, is as overwrought as a Dion performance — which, if you’re a mega-fan, is probably just fine.

While I’m not exactly a fan, I have tons of respect for Dion and admire her stunning voice, which helps me see past so much of her corny delivery and staging. I once dragged a reluctant Gord Downie out from the JUNO Awards’ backstage area and into the hall to hear Dion sing and, like me, he was impressed with the power of her vocals.

The sometimes-kitschy singer with the stunning voice and range has been suffering from stiff person syndrome for the last four years, making her unable to sing and subject to excruciating seizures — one painfully depicted in the film — and more. The film is Dion’s attempt to update fans on her efforts to deal with the disease and to explain her extended absence from performing. It is not her life story.

It is not a traditional doc. Archival film is sprinkled throughout the film with no dates or information attached. We see cool shots of Dion as a kid being interviewed and performing as well as random concert performance clips — but with zero context or information. It’s more like Dion is sharing a random scrapbook rather than details that advance any kind of story.

The only “talking head” in the film is Dion herself, who spends much of her screen time speaking directly to her beloved fans — and weeping. When she is not weeping, she is telling “us” how much she loves us; in fact, she is often weeping when she tells us how much she loves us. People hand her tissues to wipe away tears with the same frequency James Brown was handed towels on stage to wipe away sweat. (At the Toronto preview screening, branded Celine Dion tissue boxes were in the washrooms and extended to people as they exited the film.)

And Dion wants us to love her as much as she “loves” us as great effort is made to depict her as a “regular gal” who happens to have thousands of pairs of shoes and a warehouse filled with dresses and gowns. But she is also shown vacuuming up after her kids — yeah, right — and hugging her children so, just like us, except for being a kazillionaire.

Nonetheless, it’s impossible not to root for Dion; her charm is immense even if accompanied by a bit of smarm too. It’s fun to get this window into how she lives, and despite her best efforts, no, she is very much “not just like us” as scenes like a butler delivering a massive milkshake to one of her kids remind us. But she is pretty cool. Her struggle with the disease is awful and it’s awesome to hear her speaking her Québécois French with her family and colleagues.

Whether you weep or chuckle when Dion pounds her chest as she emotes and projects while singing the Titanic theme, My Heart Will Go On, is a good measure of whether you’ll like this film. Weepers, step right up — this one’s for you