In my family, we’ve had a long-running joke that my dad is secretly Kevin Costner. It all started when a couple years ago, Dad mentioned that someone once insisted he looked like the movie star. The part that was so funny though was that he was told this about twenty years ago meaning that my Dad has fiercely held onto this glimmer of hope for nearly a quarter of a century.
Just to be clear:
Sure there’s a passing resemblance but in the way that all White Dads™ look exactly the same.
So anytime we see anything with Kevin Costner in it, we’ll text my dad and tell him how much we liked his work. We’ve even gotten family friends in on it. The single greatest moment in one of my dearest friendships was when we were watching trailers at a theatre and Raegan leaned over and whispered “Mags, I didn’t know your dad was in this movie!”
In fact, I solely hope the one outcome for the fifty people who will read this post is that you exclusively refer to my dad as Kevin.
All this to say… I saw it was the 25th anniversary of one of Kevin Costner’s most iconic movies and I realized I have never actually seen it. So I nestled in one morning and watched The Bodyguard while procrastinating going to the gym because that’s just who I am turning out to be as a person.
The Bodyguard was released in 1992 but it might as well been in the 80s for how deeply retro it feels. I had thought the film was iconic because it was good but it turns out it’s notorious because it’s so bad.
Plot goes like this: Whitney Houston plays Whitney Houston (okay fine, her name in the film is Rachel but like, she’s really playing herself!!), a glamorous songstress who is being stalked and threatened. She begrudgingly hires a curmudgeon bodyguard played by a walking potato, er, I mean Kevin Costner. Costner barks his lines out like he can’t be bothered, but we’re made to believe that the powerful, beautiful, intimidating, incomparable Whitney falls in love with What’s-His-Name-Over-There.
But of course, as a bodyguard, he has a code of conduct and their torrid affair can never be. Drama, drama, costume change, drama, and it turns out that Rachel’s jealous, betchy sister hired a hitman to do Rachel in. Kevin must stop the killer (who was totally rape-y by the way) at the Academy Awards (lol). He gets shot, because duh, and Rachel realizes how much she loves him. BUT, they’re both bound by duty and alas, their love really cannot be. Rachel is too much of a star and Kevin can’t protect what he loves because feelings, or something like that. So he leaves to go to another job.
ICONICALLY, the film ends with a soulful rendition of the country song that was playing while they danced on a date and it goes *sing it with me*
AAAAANNNNNDDDD, IIIiiiiiiIIIIIIIiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOOOOooooOOOOUUUuuuuuuu
(I looked it up and that is the only way to spell out that song)
Honestly, the story bored me up to that point but when she hit that key change, I started to blubber. “Yes, Whitney, sing it! For some reason you fell in love with a piece of toast you couldn’t ever have because you’re too much of an icon and that sucks! You hold onto your love, Whitney! Hold on, girl!” were the out-loud half-sobs my next-door neighbors probably heard.
The plot was so dumb that the moment of sexual tension was portrayed by a silk scarf getting sliced by a samurai sword and ohmygosh, it’s so dorky that Kevin Costner had a samurai sword.
The script was garbage except for this life-giving diatribe:
She played the role with such vulnerability, gumption, and not to mention, The Voice. It’s no wonder it’s one of the most famous soundtracks in movie history. It gave us hits like “I’m Every Woman“, “Queen of the Night“, and “I Have Nothing“. Go put on some 90s workout leggings, perm your hair, and get ready to dance your dang heart out. You’re welcome.