Honestly, I remain perplexed... It took three decades for critics to see that Celine Dion is this era's greatest entertainer and finest singer? As I continue to read one review after another about her Las Vegas opening at Caesar's Palace March 15, one thing seems to be gelling as a central theme: In the past, perhaps it wasn't Celine herself that music writers loathed. It was her gooey, bombastic ballads.
This show, of course, thematically turns down the volume, offering a more subtle side of Dion—but she remains the same tour de force she's been since "Where Does My Heart Beat Now" seduced me in 1990.
As I mentioned before, better late than ever. And the proof is in the profits: Three years from now, when Caesar's reports its highest revenues ever, while the global press alludes to her single-handedly reviving the Vegas economy, I'd like to think that critics will forever shut their damn mouths. Viva, La Celine!