As a moviegoer this weekend, you are in a unique position to see three different movies that are so outrageous each threatens to snap your brain with the relish that Macho Man Randy Savage would snap into a Slim Jim. Opening wide is Everything Everywhere All at Once, the Daniels’-directed critically heralded action-comedy about an everywoman who learns it’s up to her to save the multi-verse in all its oddest forms. Debuting today is Michael Bay’s latest, Ambulance, which exhibits all the epicness of Bay’s brand of action with the gravy that is Jake Gyllenhaal unleashed. Then there is Aline, a sentimental and sincere biopic, the most bizarre element of which may be that it exists at all.
This is the Celine Dion biopic that isn’t really a Celine Dion biopic
The opening title card of Aline warns: “This film is inspired by the life of Celine Dion. It is, however, a work of fiction.” What does that mean? It means you’ll see recognizable elements of Dion’s life, like being the youngest of 14 children in a French-Canadian household, breaking through with her stunning performance in an international singing competition, and performing the theme song from Titanic at the Oscars. However, because the filmmakers don’t have Dion’s life rights, the character isn’t Celine Dion but Aline Dieu. She doesn’t win the Eurovision Song Contest, but the “Dublin Song Competition.” No one will say the word “Titanic,” but she will perform “My Heart Will Go On” on “Hollywood’s Biggest Night” without the Academy Awards actually being name-dropped.
Yes. Aline has licensed the rights to some of Dion’s songs, including “Nature Boy” and “Let’s Talk About Love.” They aren’t sung by Celine, but by French songstress Victoria Sio. Every other aspect of this “Celine” performance and presentation, however, rests on the shoulders of the inarguably daring Valérie Lemercier.
Valérie Lemercier does it all, actually too much
Lemercier not only headlines Aline as Aline, but also directs and co-wrote its screenplay with Brigitte Buc. Few filmmakers have dared wear so many hats in their films. But this 58-year-old French filmmaker goes a step further than even the likes of Kenneth Branagh. Because she decided to play not only adult Aline, but also tween Aline, and even 5-year-old Aline. And that is an absolutely astounding thing to behold.
CGI de-aging is taken to comical extremes here, not only softening wrinkles but also trying to fudge the face of a middle-aged woman to be that of a small child. Early on, the cinematography hides Aline’s face or keeps a distance during a family band performance. However, there’s no point at which these tricks can make Lemercier look like a child. It’s like Dear Evan Hansen level of casting cringe, and that’s before we get to how Lemercier made herself child-sized: She pulled a Hobbit.
In the first half of the film, she is shrunk down to bob beneath the shoulder of her older siblings, parents, and doting manager René Angélil Guy-Claude Kamar (Sylvain Marcel). This was done by shooting her parts of these scenes separately, where she performed opposite tennis balls, so she could be composited in later in a wee form. Of course, short adults do not look like children, so it feels much ado for little effect beyond plunging us into an uncanny valley of adolescence.
Credit: Jean-Marie Leroy / Roadside Attractions and Samuel Goldwyn Films
The central romance is unnerving
Defending the unusual choice to play Aline as a child, Lemercier has argued that she wouldn’t want to put a kid into a situation where they might feel awkward, like having her looks picked over by grown-ups or —as she told Slashfilm — “to put a young girl in the bed with René de-clothed.” Yet there’s an uncomfortable disconnect between this defense and Aline‘s romanticizing of the relationship that evolves between a 12-year-old aspiring singer and her manager, who is already divorced with three kids, when they first meet.
Like Dion and her husband, Aline and hers have a substantial age gap between them. And not only did they first meet when she was a child, but specifically one entrusted to his care and guidance as her manager. Aline’s mother Sylvette (Danielle Fichaud) gives voice to the imbalance of this relationship, outraged that the man she trusted with her child’s career might be abusing that power dynamic to seduce her daughter. Sylvette points out that young Aline has no friends her own age and little life outside of performing. Essentially, Guy-Claude is her world and perhaps it was by his design?
Rather than taking this criticism seriously, Sylvette’s disapproval of their relationship is the central antagonist of the film. Lemercier paints this problematic relationship as the key to Dion’s success and happiness And even though this film doesn’t name Celine or have her blessing, it’s an absolutely fawning portrayal that skirts the problematic power dynamics of such a relationship. It portrays a 20-year-old Aline as being in control because she initiates their first sexual encounter, despite the fact that her manager had been in control of her look, songs, and behavior for eight years by then.
Perhaps cynically, I began to wonder if Lemercier was aware of how even her “young Aline” looks like a fully grown woman, and how that might urge the audience to feel less squicked by Guy-Claude’s abuse of power. I don’t know the particulars of the real-life Celine’s relationship with her husband. But even presented through Lemercier’s rose-colored glasses, Aline’s story feels less romantic and more repulsive.
Credit: Jean-Marie Leroy / Roadside Attractions and Samuel Goldwyn Films
Celine deserves better than Aline
For all these bold and frankly bizarre choices that Lemercier makes as a screenwriter, director, and leading lady, Aline lacks the verve of the real thing. Dion, even when singing the cheesiest love songs, has a panache to her performance that has made her an international singing sensation and a gift to drag queens around the world. Lemercier’s performance lacks the intensity and eccentricity of Celine. Mimicking her mugging or copying her kicks isn’t enough to bring Aline to Celine’s level. For all her earnestness and hero-worship, Lemercier feels like the Wish.com version of Celine Dion. It’s vaguely familiar but nowhere near as glamorous, thrilling, or fun as you’d hoped.
There is an off-kilter amusement in watching Aline, but it’s of the WTF variety, where you can’t believe this is a real movie. The CGI gimmickry that transforms a fiftysomething actress into a so-called “child” is jaw-dropping in its audacity. The story structure that disregards tried-and-true tropes of rags-to-riches biopics in favor of an unsavory romance might have you agog. For its brazenness in casting, Lemercier’s performance is jarringly unaware and vanilla. Then, she sprinkles on syrupy sentimental details like ice skates accidentally worn to an audition. And in the end, the film feels like a parody of musician biopics, delivered with an absolutely straight face. It’s funny. But not exactly “ha ha” funny. More like “uh huh” funny.
But hey, Lemercier won a César Award for Best Actress. (Seriously.) So maybe the joke is on all of us who don’t go chasing our dreams, no matter how utterly ridiculous.
Aline opens in theaters on April 8.
