Every moment with the vocal gymnast is so joyous and sentimental, it hardly matters she’s overlooked by the cultural elite
No one who grew up in the 90s could have missed Céline Dion’s dominance of the charts, peaking with the decade-defining Titanic theme song, My Heart Will Go On. But like many inner-city queers, I’ve since gravitated to Dion more as a meme than a singer. Her unintentionally hilarious and deeply empathetic appearance on Larry King Live in the wake of Hurricane Katrina is still rolled out at parties; and her zeitgeist renaissance as a newly minted fashion icon has rendered her iconic backwards tuxedo a distant memory.
So, it is with an ironic love of camp, and more than a little cynicism, that I enter the Dion Dome. That cynicism, I soon discover, has no place here.
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