Aline

Despite some wonky CGI, this "fictional biopic" about singer Celine Dion is an engaging tribute that mostly hits the right notes.

I’ll admit, for the first act of “Aline” I thought it was a parody poking fun at Celine Dion.

It follows her unlikely rise from 14th child of a modest French-Canadian family to child singing sensation to international superstar. Named Aline Dieu for this “fictionalized biopic” — which nonetheless tracks closely with Dion’s own life story, and was reportedly approved by her representatives — it’s directed and co-written by French filmmaker Valérie Lemercier, who also stars.

Here’s the thing: rather than cast child actresses to play Aline at ages 5, 12 and teen years, Lemercier uses CGI to morph her own face onto tiny figures, possibly with some forced-perspective shots to make her smaller compared to adult actors in the scene.

Here’s the other thing: Lemercier is nearly 60 years old — older than Dion herself. And bless her, she’s embracing aging naturally without a bunch of surgery and showbiz cosmetics. So what we see is a middle-aged face, smoothed out with some of that de-aging technology like that used in “The Irishman,” slapped onto a kid’s body.

The result is, well, laughable.

The Aline kid looks like a possessed wood sprite. So you, like me, might think at first that Lemercier is taking some potshots at Dion by making her look ridiculous. There’s also a plenty of humor in the film, further suggesting this is not a tribute but a takedown.

But eventually the Aline character reaches adult years, and the CGI trickery becomes less intrusive, and we settle into the story. (Brigitte Buc co-wrote the script.)

What we discover is that “Aline” really is an earnest celebration of Dion’s life and music. We get to hear the real songs she’s famous for, performed with unreal mimicry by French singer Victoria Sio.

The filmmakers even follow Dion’s various hair and fashion changes corresponding to different periods of her life — such as the sleek black dress and short ‘do she wore to perform “My Heart Will Go On,” the theme song from “Titanic,” at the Academy Awards.

In between the showstopper musical numbers, we poke into Dion’s personal life. Her upbringing was hectic but idyllic, with Danielle Fichaud playing her powerhouse of a mother, Sylvia. Anglomard Dieu plays her more laid-back father. Rather than the usual pushy showbiz parents, her mother is portrayed as sweet but fiercely protective, traveling around with young Aline while she performs as a child.

She’s not terribly receptive to Guy-Claude Kamar (Sylvain Marcel), who they recruit to be Aline’s manager, when the young girl eventually develops feelings for the much older man. Portly and bald, he is dismissed by Sylvia as the “ugly old toad” who has no business romancing the princess.

Guy-Claude, for his part, resists Aline’s overtures for a very long time — partly to spare her mother’s feelings, but also because he knows it could threaten her career. And, while he eventually admits his deep love for her, his primary motivation in life is to ensure she becomes and remains an international sensation. He’s a watchful, protective but entirely benevolent presence.

In the end, there’s almost a purity to these relationships we don’t expect in a story of this ilk.

Aline herself is depicted as very much someone who becomes swept up in her own celebrity, but more as a prisoner than haughty let-them-eat-cake type. Once she reaches her zenith of fame at a very young age, she’s constantly surrounded by a retinue of hair and makeup people, servants and her own siblings, who serve as her de facto entourage and domestic help, watching over her kids and keeping the trains running on time.

At one point, Aline admits to Fred (Jean-Noël Brouté), a makeup artist she has befriended, that despite performing in Las Vegas for 14 years she has never actually set foot outside, shuttling between her concert venue and sprawling mansion.

I enjoyed the funny little moments scattered throughout the movie, such as Aline’s lifelong habit of sneaking sugar packets into her purse — copying her mother from when she had so many young mouths to feed. There’s also a scampy scene about moving into her new massive 100+ room estate and literally getting lost.

The overall effect is to normalize Aline as an ordinary woman with extraordinary talent that led to a life of incredible exclusiveness. So when she sings mournful songs about feeling all alone despite being adored by millions, we actually believe it.

Despite the wonky CGI, “Aline” mostly hits the right notes, delivering a portrait of one of the world’s most famous people that’s actually uplifting and sympathetic. At first I thought it was written in poison pen, but soon enough I recognized it for the love letter it really is.