Houston doesn’t have to stretch too far to play Rachel Marron, a bitchy diva surrounded by luxury and sycophants who finds her path to the pinnacle of musical and cinematic stardom blocked by a particularly nasty anonymous stalker who has made an increasingly scary series of threats. Enter Kevin Costner as Frank Farmer, an ex-Secret Service agent haunted by his failure to protect Ronald Reagan from John Hinckley’s bullet. Frank signs on as a security consultant and immediately battens down the hatches, much to the displeasure of the uptight Rachel, who’s used to getting things her way.
"The Bodyguard" kills time with some memorably transparent gambits, like a startling leap from Miami to the snows near Lake Tahoe (where Ralph Waite ambles into the film as Frank's father) and a painfully poor facsimile of Academy Awards night. It also pauses, though only briefly, for a couple of perfunctory love scenes between Rachel and Frank. Unreal as these scenes seem anyhow, they are further undercut by the film's failure even to notice that this is an interracial romance. Strangely enough, "The Bodyguard" comes from Warner Brothers, the studio that just released "Malcolm X."
The sidelines of "The Bodyguard" are enlivened by Mr. Kasdan's occasionally deft zingers (including the perfect rejoinder to a party pickup line), by moments when Mr. Costner's wariness takes on some dramatic edge and by supporting performances geared to a film noir sensibility. Mr. Kemp, a sinister star of "The Krays," and Ms. Richards are particularly strong reminders of what might have been.
To say that Houston and Costner fail to strike sparks would be putting it mildly. The two barely seem to be in the same room — the movie is like a discordant duet between their superstar auras. Houston, the Olympian pop-soul diva, has moments of quickness and humor; she shows more thespian flair than many musicians. Her presence, though, is defined by the same glassy perfection that makes her singing, for all its virtuosity, seem fundamentally anonymous. Whitney Houston is a diamond without flaws: Her cat-faced Mayan beauty is like a mask, and beneath it one never senses a glimmer of vulnerability, pain, doubt. She doesn't seem to need another human being to complete her (that's true on her albums, too-she makes love to her own vocal chords), and in a romantic drama that's fatal. Costner, by contrast, is in his gruff, passive, if-I-just-say-the-lines-as-though-I'm-bored-I'll-look-macho mode. His performance might seem utterly dull were it not for his medieval-monk haircut, which just about martyrs his handsomeness. You can bet this won't be starting any fashion trends.
The Bodyguard is riddled with soap-opera idiocies, from Rachel's madly jealous sister (Michele Lamar Richards) to Frank's big guilt complex (he was off duty the day Reagan was shot and still hasn't forgiven himself) to the hilariously el-cheapo re-creation of the Oscars. Mostly, though, the movie gives us these two self-contained celebrity icons working hard to look as if they want each other. It's like watching two statues attempting to mate. D
The reason The Bodyguard scored more than $410 million worldwide is not Costner and Houston's (inexistent) chemistry. It's about the accompanying soundtrack, which to date stands as the highest selling in movie history and features six songs by Houston, including "Queen of the Night," a remake of Chaka Khan's "I'm Every Woman," "I've Got Nothing," and, of course, her signature cover of Dolly Parton's "I Will Always Love You." Although her songs make up half of the soundtrack, she is credited for the album's popularity, which in turn drove people to see the film.
Houston's performance is strengthened by the fact that Oscar-nominated Rachel sings all of the soundtrack's key songs on camera, instead of just having the songs play over scenes. Without Houston's powerful voice, the love story is reduced to schmaltzy dialogue, zero heat between the leads, and Farmer's unexplained obsession with swords and knives. Regardless of whether you're a Houston fan, her talent as a singer is what makes the movie halfway watchable. When she's not singing, there's a temptation to fast-forward.
