Inspired by a True Diva

How do you write, direct, and star in a Céline Dion biopic without losing your nerve? First step: Change her name.

the film aline, which premiered last year at Cannes to an audience both baffled and delighted and which was deemed “scary” by The Guardian ahead of its April release, defies simple explanation. It is about a woman who looks and acts and sounds like Céline Dion. This woman’s life includes many of Dion’s own pivotal moments: discovery as a gawky but preternaturally talented young girl by a much older manager who eventually becomes her ponytailed husband; a “makeover” and an ascent to international superstardom; a Titanic performance at the Oscars; a Vegas residency. But here, her name is Aline Dieu and she is played in a César-winning performance by French writer-director-star Valérie Lemercier at every stage of her life—including at age 5, shrunk down and warbling at a family wedding. If Lemercier had gotten her way, she would also have played Aline as an infant.

A Dion obsessive who co-wrote the film with her frequent collaborator Brigitte Buc, Lemercier says Aline was “freely inspired” by the singer’s life, though she takes some strange creative liberties: scenes in which Aline gets lost inside her own mansion or reveals a long-awaited pregnancy by carving the letters BB into a bowl of her husband’s carrot purée with her hands. Lemercier pitches her performance somewhere between earnest homage and camp

imitation, mimicking Dion’s spontaneous, limb-flinging dance moves and wide-eyed energy. But she insists she is not making fun of Aline or Céline— instead, she sees Aline as a tribute to a fellow artist grappling with the highs and lows of stardom.

Although Lemercier’s work is unfamiliar to many Americans, she’s well known in France as a film actor, director, and stage performer. (She’s also no stranger to celebrity impressions; she made a satirical film inspired by Princess Diana and Prince Charles in 2005 called

“I wanted to speak about the artist’s life, which is also mine,” says Lemercier. “You’re alone onstage. You’re alone afterward. You’re alone when you go out. The changing rooms in the theaters are awful. There are no windows. It’s not very glamorous. I wanted to speak about all of that.”

You take some artistic liberties with Céline Dion’s life, starting with her name. Why didn’t you want to do a straight biopic?

I changed the name first. My co-writer said to me, “Change the name. It will all be easier.” And, in fact, it was. Céline’s younger than me. She’s alive. Of course, she’s much more famous than me—I couldn’t have a poster with my head and the words Céline Dion. I changed her name to be more free. And I preferred to make small digressions. To make a movie, you need strong images and symbols. For example, her father gives her a coin at the beginning of the movie that she carries with her all over the place—it’s not totally a fact. It’s between something true and something untrue.

When did you first become a fan?

Céline has been famous in France since she was about 14 years old, but I heard about her late. I was doing a play in 1995, and there was a girl working at the theater who always sang Céline’s album D’eux

while she was giving out tickets and seating people. I didn’t know anything about Céline’s life or her love story, just the beautiful songs. I didn’t even know her English repertoire. But then I was very touched by the first images of her walking alone after her husband René Angélil’s funeral in 2016. I saw Céline onstage for the first time while I was writing the script. I was really struck by the performance, by the voice.

It sounds like you were less drawn to her talent and celebrity and more to the story behind it, the people around her.

It’s a movie for her and for René. There are books this thick on René and her mother—bigger than the ones about Céline. There was so much material: the love story, the family story, the success story.

I was very touched by that big family of Céline’s—that they’re so close. The love story with her mother is really important. Céline wasn’t supposed to be on Earth— she was born when her mother was in her 40s. Everything is a plus, everything is a gift, because she wasn’t supposed to live. So her mother did twice as much for her last little girl as for her 13 other children. She wanted to repair something. And when Céline arrived in René’s life, he had no artists, no job. I think the movie is a story about repair.

Have you met Céline before or since the movie?

No. I’d like to. The first thing I did when I finished the script was to give it to her French manager, who read it on a plane. She liked it and said, “I see how much you love her.” But Céline didn’t want to read it. She doesn’t want to see the pictures of our actors or be part of it. I understand why she prefers not to see the movie. I hope she will see it one day because, of course, I did it for her.

If her manager had said, “I don’t like this,” would you still have made the movie? Did you feel like you needed that permission?

It would have been difficult. In Québec, there are a lot of comedians who love to make fun of the age difference between her and René. People were waiting for me to be sarcastic in the movie, maybe even more than in the five movies I’ve made before. But that was not the story I wanted to tell. I wrote it as an homage.

Dieu means “god” in French. Was that name a bit of a wink, a joke about her elevated status?

No. It was not a joke. It’s just close to Dion. Some people really are named Dieu.

What were some other details you invented? For example, did René actually propose to Céline by putting a ring inside an ice-cream cone?

No. In the film, she meets him just after she goes ice-skating, wearing her mother’s gigantic shoes. Céline was not ice-skating right before she met him. I think she had normal shoes on in real life. But I wanted to explain why she has 10,000 pairs of shoes. I thought, Maybe if during the first important meeting of her life, she has bad shoes, maybe afterward she has too many shoes. It’s small things to understand her better. And it’s also a comedy, so I wanted funny things that were not bad for her.

What made you decide, I’m not only going to write this, but I’m going to direct it and star in it and even play her at age 5?

When Aline doesn’t know how to be a woman, how to dance, when she has the wrong teeth—when she’s in the dentist’s chair with an open mouth—I didn’t want to make a small girl do that. It’s fine to laugh about my own maladroit. I think it’s not funny to do that to a poor little girl.

So you decided instead, Okay, I’m gonna shrink myself.

It’s not my own face on a child’s body; it’s all me. When I’m at school, they put me at a big desk with papers bigger than normal ones and a big pen. When I’m signing records, we used big records. And we took off my wrinkles. Onstage, I’ve played a lot of kids and teenagers. It’s one of the things I love to do. Of course, it could be strange for Americans because you don’t know me. But in France, they know I’ve played that kind of character. So maybe it’s more funny for us.

I will tell you: At first I also wanted to play her at 6 months old, as a baby with one tooth, sleeping in a drawer. My producer asked me to take that out. One time I will show it to you because it was so funny. For me, it’s a big regret that it’s not in the movie.

You really embody Céline’s natural wackiness. She is a kooky person, and the tone of the film feels like it’s on the same wavelength as her sense of humor.

She’s a clown.

Can you talk to me about finding that tone? Because it’s a fine line—you’re not making fun of her.

I think we did that in editing. The script was funnier, more of a comedy. But I wanted to mix funny and sensitive. We know all along that Aline’s husband, GuyClaude, is going to die. The day we edited the death, I came back very sad. It felt like it happened to me. It was difficult.

A lot of her hits, like “The Power of Love” and “All Coming Back to Me Now,” are missing from the film. But you do have a lot of her bigger covers, like “River Deep, Mountain High” and “Nature Boy.” Were you unable to get the rights to some of those other songs?

All the songs I chose speak about her love. Each is a step of her love story. And at the end, she’s alone, and there is only one song she sings from the beginning to

“I was singing for real in a stadium with nobody in front of me. I was alone. And I was crying.”

the end, that last song: “Ordinaire.” That really speaks to who she is. The only song I couldn’t get was “The Power of Love.” We have “I’m Alive,” we have “My Heart Will Go On,” and there are some important French songs, like “Pour Que Tu M’aimes Encore.”

Victoria Sio provides Aline’s singing voice. How did you work together to get her to sound so similar to Céline?

We had 50 singers to choose from. It was like The Voice with no names attached. She was letter B, and she was really the best. They told me, “She works a lot. She will be easy to direct,” and that was the case. Of course, she was obliged to sound like Céline, but I wanted to hear her heart. I wanted her to be in the song. I think she had the most difficult job, making 16 songs. They’re not complete in the movie, but we did it for the record.

What was the process of matching up your performance to her vocals? Did you lip-sync to her?

She was singing to match me. She has the lyrics, she has my face, she must breathe like me, she must move like me. All of that. In certain songs, you can hear my voice mixed with her voice for a few moments.

So when you filmed those concert scenes, were you singing in front of an audience or lip-syncing to another track?

I was singing for real in a stadium with nobody in front of me. I was alone in 22-centimeter heels. And I was crying. I was really in the songs. I was totally, 100 percent in the songs.

I heard two of Céline’s siblings thought the film was disrespectful because it painted her as growing up in squalor. What’s your reaction to that?

It’s difficult to say. We proposed to the Québec distributor that the family see the movie—all of her brothers and sisters— and they didn’t want to. Then one journalist let them enter a press screening under another name, and they left before the movie ended. Of course, they didn’t recognize Céline in the film. I think it’s very difficult when you’re so close. Aline’s house is not exactly the same as Céline’s. I know she didn’t leave her house through a window wearing her wedding dress.

I never wanted to be unkind. I spent all my energy to make her onscreen family a good family with love. I did get some advice while I was making the film from one of Céline’s other siblings, but he didn’t speak publicly so I can’t say his name. René’s family loves the movie.

What would you say if you could meet Céline now?

First, I’d say, “You have nice shoes.” And afterward, we’ll see. ■