Diane Warren: Relentless

I barely know where to begin talking about this boring mess of a cotton-candy coated hagiography.

I do know I don't have any issues with Diane Warren. When you look at her list of hits from the 80s, 90s, and even early 00s, you instantly understand her popularity. Doesn't matter whether you rolled your eyes or closed them while daydreaming every time you heard "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing": the only way for a song to be so pervasive and recognizable to become that lame is by tapping into something, be it cultural trends or tremendous skill or fundamental truths, or some combination therein. You don't have to like her songs, but that so many of them persist to this day is impressive, and indicates her skill as a songwriter.

But it's notable that the doc stops listing them in the early 00s. Because with a few small exceptions, Warren hasn't written anything truly notable in a quarter century or so. I don't know enough about pop music to comment on why, but I can tell you that even in the era before terrestrial radio began crashing towards its current state, she had entered a dry spell.

So the question of "Why this doc, and why now?" of course comes up, and the obvious answer is her place in Oscars history. She's the most nominated person to have never won, and one of the most nominated people, period. Hell, she's been nominated twice mor since this film was completed in 2024, pushing her streak to nine consecutive years. Yes, she's still writing and working with important, popular artists. But this whole movie feels like a marketing ploy designed to finally push her over the line to an Oscar win, even though it won't be this year (her honorary award is nice, but being "given" an Oscar is different).

Have you ever looked away from something so intently that it becomes clear you want nothing more than to stare right at it? That's this movie and the Oscars. I don't get the sense they drive Warren herself, although it's clear she'd love to win - who wouldn't? But like it or not, it's such an important part of her legacy now, especially for younger generations, that their minimal presence in the film is weird.

Director Bess Kargman only forefronts two shows, and not until an hour has elapsed. Her 2022 loss to Billie Eilish simply took place during the doc's filming. But "Til It Happens To You" seems to be ground zero for her current run of Oscars luck. It was such a personal piece of writing, accompanied by her talking publicly for the first time about sexual abuse she suffered as a child - and she lost to a middling Bond title song. The following year was the last time she wasn't nominated. It's as if when her name failed to come up on the morning of the 2016 announcement, the Music Branch got together and decided that they would not stop until she won. Which may sound unfair, until you look at the list of non-entities her nominations have been attached to since, dreck only rescued from the dust bin of history by her words playing over the end credits.

That I've so far focused heavily on one aspect of her career and legacy provides this piece far more structural integrity than the movie has. Kargman never identifies any narrative spine, any core thesis, or any recurring element to give this thing shape. It's a collection of anecdotes from Warren and friends and collaborators, past and present, all delivered in straight to camera interviews. Sure, there are bits of her at a piano here, us following her around her childhood home (where someone else lives now) there, and plenty of old photos and video and so on. You know, standard biographical film stuff. But even the individual sections have little cohesion. There are only a few instances where a mini-arc emerges, but their brevity results in their lack of depth. The remaining juxtaposition of anecdotes have little rhyme or reason, further confused by strange editing choices that resist commentary. All simply serve to scream at you that "Diane Warren overcame a lot, she's a genius, and isn't she just the best?" It's all so facile and boring.

There are traces of truly interesting stories surrounding her. But the only one we don't breeze past is the aforementioned "Til It Happens To You". How did she come to write "Rhythm of the Night", which was her big break? Dunno, it just happened. What was the deal with her giving "How Do I Live" to both LeAnn Rimes and Trisha Yearwood? We hear both performers utter a sentence or two about it before moving on. Maybe the only real moment is a tease for what could of been. In the car with Diane, someone on the phone says "I just think right now, Diane, it's slowly starting to not work anymore", before she signals the cameras to turn off. We've no context for that statement, so we don't even know what "it" is; it's a blink and you'll miss it scene sandwiched between two talking heads speaking about rejection. But it implies seams exist, despite the other 90 minutes' claims to the contrary.

Warren turns out to be a very surprising character, yet the editing never allows her to gain enough steam to breath more than momentary energy into what's happening. Her whole vibe is a blend of punk and glam rock. She's crude and brash and entitled and pushy and a dyed in the wool contrarian. Hell, we see a home video of what was supposed to be wishing her mom a happy birthday, but Warren uses to throw her success back in her mom's face. It's always insufferable when the subject's friends tell the documentarians that "She just doesn't give a fuck what anyone else thinks", but there's enough support for it on screen for you to believe, even if you take all the self-mythologizing anecdotes with a healthy dose of skepticism.

None of which implies the soul of someone who writes so many goopy, sappy, safe & sentimental ballads. Yet we get nary a stray thought about that contradiction beyond acknowledgment. Hell, we never even get a hint of her musical taste, never mind her influences or what drives her songwriting. It's understandable that she bristles at questions about her process; they're a dime a dozen, deeply personal, and rarely reveal anything meaningful besides. But we've nothing about how being self-taught led to exclusively writing the most generic pop music.

Instead, every second of the film is dedicated to extolling her virtues. Her genius, her assertiveness, her refusal to give up, her love of her cat, how quickly and easily can write, her contentedness with simply being crazy rich (instead of disgustingly rich), her individuality, and more. There are some comments making it clear that working with someone so stubborn and (ahem) relentless can cause problems and strain relationships. But any failing on her part is balanced out, either by immediately highlighting a positive, or pointing at her failing actually being a strength. It flattens her out from a real, textured person into "the Bad Bitch of Hollywood pop", and all that comes with that.

In addition to its Oscars dreams, this doc seeks to sell Warren as someone who exists outside of the Academy Awards conversation, someone generally worthy of your attention. It never gets there, not by a long shot, but it does at least succeed at revising your image of the person responsible for at least eighty percent of the audience for Tell It Like a Woman. Not once did I imagine the same person who wrote "The Fire Inside" from the Cheetos movie would also have coasters that list her relationship status as "cunt". The result is that this movie forces you to confront your internal biases and preconceived notions of people you know nothing about. You know, something about books and covers.

Or maybe it's just a puff piece that stumbles into meaning every once in a while.