The Bodyguard (1992)

The best ‘bad’ film – ever

Well, there we have it, ladies and germs – Picturenose reaches its 300th post. As ever, when these milestones occur, a big thank you is due to all our visitors and contributors, old and new. And, to mark this auspicious occasion, what better opportunity for me to finally present my defence of the film that, officially, nobody liked except the audiences and me. I have been forced to explain my fondness for this a number of times to a number of accusors (and you know who you are) so here, for posterity, is why The Bodyguard (1992) simply ain’t as bad as many say. I thank you…

For a start, fact fans, you are probably not aware that the director, Mick Jackson, is an Englishman who has previously given the world such eclectic offerings as QED: A Guide To Armageddon (1982), Threads (1984) and Volcano (1997) and that the pitch for what became far and away 1992′s most popular film (and one of the 90s biggest smashes) was rejected a grand total of 67 times before finally being taken by Warner Bros.

Of course, there are those who might suggest that such a film premise could never be rejected enough, but pooh-pooh to them, as I am about to explain.

Seriously, though, what is the problem? Is it Whitney? Is it Kev? Is it a perceived lack of on-screen chemistry (with which I simply don’t agree)? Or is it because an awful lot of people really enjoyed the story’s simplicity, coupled with the fact that, just because you’re actually ashamed to own up to the fact that you like it too, you have to dismiss it as being abysmal?

Well, sorry, but it isn’t. I must grudgingly concede that Houston as leading lady might not have been to everyone’s taste, but I see and saw nothing in her performance to merit the vitriol heaped upon her by critics of the time. In addition, I have no shame in admitting that I have a lot of time for Costner – a solid leading man of the old school, he is perfectly suited to the role of Frank Farmer, a bodyguard who grudgingly agrees to mind pop-star/actress Rachel Marron and who, of course, begins to break the most important rule for a professional – do not fall in love.

Did that get on your tits as well, namely that it was a simple romance? Or was it that Lawrence Kasdan’s script, while obviously not Chinatown (1974), was nevertheless more than competent and compact?

Alright, it’s Whitney, isn’t it? Fair enough – there’s not much more that I can say in a review. Why don’t you tell me your reasons, via comments, then the real fun begins, agreed?

Oh yes, and the ending brought a tear to my eye, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Happy 300th, Picturenose!

130 mins.

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