Dzxx: The Bodyguard [Blu-ray] (Blu-ray)

More Detail Information: The Bodyguard [Blu-ray] (Blu-ray)

Product Details

Amazon Sales Rank: #91 in DVD
Released on: 2012-03-27
Rating: R (Restricted)
Aspect ratio: 1.77:1
Number of discs: 1
Formats: NTSC, Original recording remastered, Widescreen
Original language: English
Running time: 129 minutes

Editorial Reviews

Amazon.com

This 1992 throng pleaser done roughly as most income for Whitney Houston as a chart-busting soundtrack. A high-wattage star car as usually Hollywood can make, The Bodyguard stars Houston as a pop-music papa (now there's a stretch) and Kevin Costner as a unrelenting bodyguard who is reserved to strengthen her after a thespian receives some nasty genocide threats. Pop star and bodyguard don't strike it off during first, though they wear down any others' defenses, and before prolonged Houston is baring her tonsils with a rousing delivery of a Dolly Parton reddish-brown "I Will Always Love You." The film, created by Lawrence Kasden, was creatively dictated for Steve McQueen, though a book languished for years before Houston took an seductiveness in a project. A due supplement would potentially have starred Costner and Princess Diana, until Diana's comfortless genocide precluded that possibility. --Jeff Shannon

From The New Yorker

According to a screenwriter (and co-producer), Lawrence Kasdan, a book for this design was created in 1975 as a probable car for Steve McQueen. In lieu of McQueen, Kevin Costner plays a pretension character, a late Secret Service male who is hired to strengthen a famous thespian (played by Whitney Houston). Costner sports a hairy crewcut that's some-more caricature than homage, and he's really grim; he looks as if he were still uneasy by inconsistencies in a Warren Commission report. Houston, in a accumulation of glitzy costumes, belts a few forgettable songs for a soundtrack manuscript and flings herself regularly during a taciturn hero, vagrant him for both sex and virile state-of-the-art security. The movie, destined by Mick Jackson, is a formulaic and ruinously prolonged thriller that competence have been some-more fun if a absurdities had been played as high camp. (The consummate is an assassination try during a Oscar ceremony.) It is, perhaps, a pointer of swell that a big-budget blurb design like this can underline a intrigue between a white male and a black lady but ever creation a secular disproportion an issue. It would be a some-more enlivening pointer if a film were any good. Also with Michele Lamar Richards and Gary Kemp. -Terrence Rafferty
Copyright © 2006 The New Yorker