Celine Dion has always been a paragon of vocal prowess and stage presence, captivating audiences since her first Las Vegas residency in 2003. This was followed by another successful stint, a 2008 world tour, and numerous other performances. However, behind the scenes, Dion was grappling with a rare neurological disorder called stiff-person syndrome. In her documentary, *I Am: Celine Dion*, she shares how her voice was the first to reveal her illness. Typically, after a performance, her voice would drop by half a note. One day, it went up instead, eventually leading to vocal burnout. Desperately, she would sometimes let the audience sing parts of her songs, masking her struggle as a gesture of generosity. For 17 years, Dion endured the pain, her voice deteriorating, muscles rebelling, and spasms turning into seizures. By 2020, she could barely walk.

The documentary, which premiered on Amazon Prime Video this week, was first screened at Lincoln Center. The audience was a mix of press and devoted fans, singing along to Dion's hits before the film began. Dressed in cream silk, Dion's appearance reassured everyone that she was still fighting. Directed by Irene Taylor and co-produced by Dion's company, Les Productions Feeling, the film is a blend of fan service and an unflinching look at chronic illness. Dion's ubiquity in the music world now extends to a new role: that of an injured athlete. Much like athletes, Dion offers little insight into her artistry but emphasizes the importance of teamwork and striving for excellence.




The documentary is rich with concert footage, highlighting Dion's commanding stage presence. Even in past studio sessions, she stands firm, letting ballads flow from her like a force of nature. On stage, she is in perpetual motion, every movement an extension of her powerful vocals. Director Taylor ensures we see Dion in her prime, reminding us of her physical command before illness took its toll. We witness her rehearsing, stretching, and performing with infectious energy.

Yet, the film also presents a stark contrast. A recent cell-phone video shows Dion lying on the ground, paralyzed by a seizure, moaning in pain as EMTs lift her onto a gurney. Such raw footage lays bare the severity of her condition. Despite this, Dion remains hopeful about her recovery, even planning a new Vegas show. She aims to be transparent about her struggles, possibly to support fans dealing with similar issues and to explain why she hasn't been touring or releasing new music. At one point, she likens herself to an apple tree whose branches are dying, feeling guilty for not being able to perform as she used to.

The film's new footage mostly shows Dion in her home, interacting with her children, or attending sports-medicine sessions. Her biggest outings are to her personal archive and a recording studio. The documentary leans heavily on archival footage to counterbalance the present's limitations. Once a self-assured performer, Dion now listens to recordings of her strained voice, her face reflecting disappointment. “Je n’aime pas ça,” she tells her engineers, nearly in tears.

Some athletes retire when they slow down, preferring to end on their terms. Others push until their bodies can no longer sustain them. Dion is the latter. Despite her current struggles, she remains determined to return to the stage. For Dion, performing is synonymous with existence. “I think I was very good,” she reflects. “I think I had some stuff that was amazing. But there’ve been moments when I had to go to the studio and I knew they wanted ‘Celine Dion’” — and she could not give it to them. What does it mean to be Celine Dion? She sighs and concludes, “She’s the best.”