This is an excruciatingly difficult film that tackles themes of grief and remorse, perhaps the two most potent emotions that a human being can ever possess, heads over to director Irene Taylor I Am: Celine Dion the world loves to watch Celine Dion overcome her countless Internal and external challenges, Yet more than admiration or viewership, there can be a celebration of Celine Dion the pop icon herself. Stray cats cannot easily determine which way to go, and many eyes figure out how to offer them one direction. These ‘stray cats’ we’re speaking about tend towards Stiff-Person Syndrome, Celine Dion’s malady in which the body gradually spasms and hardens into ‘mummification.’ It becomes apparent in the first few moments of watching the film what happened to remedy the horror the pop singer underwent at the time.
The film is shot primarily through the lens of an admirer. Paired with fresh voiceover tracks, it presents its passionate and compassionate fusional ode to its female subject: Celine Dion’s sound years ago and her more recent image suffering from constant sickly muscle tightness. She reveals, “I began having muscle spasms in the early part, and as many such milestones focus on the stress. Many battles overcome with relative ease eventually lead to self-doubt and said triggers. For the female voice, these moments seem to be depicted as a memory with a calm perspective. However, as cliche or absurd as this may sound, in one section of the tour film that exudes such strong tension, it is decided against any narration and leaves the audience in a silent stupor.
Buganda and Dion’s bond is truly something special, something that we might not be able to feel, but extend our appreciation. Footage shows the restless Dre Dion on a treatment bed, right after he complained about his foot issues. She is about to get electrocuted, and instantly, her body becomes motionless. She cries and screams, “This is so painful!” but there are no abdominal muscles to help with any yelling. She’s immobile. A few minutes later, after regaining partial movement control, someone pushes the button and asks: “Wanna do the cameras?” or something to that effect. The most disturbing scenes raise the deepest questions about the limits any documentalist or actor should set toward truth’s portrayal; or, at least, the frame within which some of the truths should be shown without sounding vulgar or, even worse, perverse.
The pain that keeps her up the most, though she mentions this issue a few times in the film, is her loss of voice. Everyone remembers Dion’s powerful singing as though she lit the entire building up. “It was the conductor of my life,” she says tears in eyes during one episode. Dion confesses that it takes some time to give up all control to her words. But when she talks about her leaving people without using this gift, this strikes the chord in her heart and she sobs. And later, as if to express her anxiety of not being able to use her voice, she attempts a high pitch but laments that she cannot do so. It devastates her.
At the risk of being a bit mean, Taylor mixes some footage of her old concerts in those moments. The result is that a viewer, and Dion as well for that matter, gets to know what she could perform in the past. It is like showing a short clip of a 100 meter race to a former sprint runner who has now lost his legs. Oddly enough, I Am Celine Dion doesn’t have any outsiders in the space of the singer’s close circles. There are no comments from her former band members and managers, or even her peers. She has two daughters who show up in the footage, but do not give an interview. No one describes her illness for the audience’s understanding, no one other than a smiling Grammy winner dedicates a page to admiration.
In that sense, the film has no self-centeredness, even if there is one scene where Dion claims the focus is all on her in that moment because she has not been singing for two years, and has now decided to do so. It is disheartening to hear her fail to hit the right notes now and then, but what is so much more disheartening are the numerous occasions when she ruminates and articulates in great and quite sagely detail about what her condition is. Dion, they say, has a very expressive countenance; every frown has a tale etched around it; and there is a story behind every bead of sweat. And Taylor’s decision to capture such moments in tight close up is also a very wise one. No one can remain unaffected.
On the other hand, I Am Celine Dion has a lot of storytelling, but lacks in factual interpretation: it isn’t personalized or extensive, nor provoking or groundbreaking at all. Yet if there is a lacuna that this film will try to fill, it is the portrayal of female insecurity and rage, in all its glory. Her body may be telling her to stop struggling, but her soul will fight.
To Watch More Movies Like I Am: Celine Dion (2024) Visit Soap2day.
