The Bodyguard plays up its kitsch origins to mixed success, but as a vessel for Whitney Houston songs, you could do little better.

A bundle of bunched-up nineties cheese, The Bodyguard plays at Mayflower Theatre this week. An exemplifying case of corniness, with a narrative that tears itself apart from every direction, but with showstopping Whitey Houston tracks to prop it up.

Matt Milburn is The Bodyguard - or rather, Frank Farmer, protector to the stars, especially when they don’t want his help. Enter Rachel Marron (Sidonie Smith), one of the biggest pop stars of all time, on the way to a potential win at the Academy Awards. Meanwhile, a well-groomed stalker (James-Lee Harris) has fallen hopelessly in love with her, leaving letters in her dressing room equal parts threatening and romantic. While Frank is convinced of the serious threat this poses, Rachel doesn’t want her life— her son—to be affected by it, and so the two clash. But eventually, their frostiness melts away, and the two begin to fall in love…

If you’ve seen the original film, then I’m sure this treads close to the initial tone. Despite updating the show’s plot up to the current era, it all feels a bit dated, complete with a projected screen showing stock explosion effects and depicting the Stalker as a character reminiscent of Eminem’s “Stan”. 

The show cuts down on much of the action from the film: gone are explosions, hitmen, and gunfights, which means the bulk of the appeal has to come from the bare-bones story we are left with. While the show does expand on the role of Rachel’s sister, Nicki (Sasha Monique), and gives her some well-earned pathos in the first act, I remain unconvinced that the story can support the production. The second half, in particular, drops the ball from my perspective, where multiple threads are abandoned without reason, and it all comes to a screeching, unsatisfying halt.

I still enjoyed the chemistry between Milburn and Smith, and while Frank and Rachel’s enemies-to-lovers dynamic comes on far too quickly for my taste, it was still nice to see that well-worn trope played out. Cale Cole is another standout as Rachel’s young son Fletcher, a perfect symbol of childlike innocence and infectious energy.

As a vehicle for Whitney Houston songs, and if you are prepared to stop worrying about a cohesive narrative, then it does work. The songs are hits for a reason; regardless of who is singing them they’d be a success, but it helps that Sidonie Smith is a wonder of a performer, with explosive energy and sweet tenderness. It also never fails to entertain, even when I’m laughing in disbelief at another DUN DUN sound effect as the Stalker enters the stage, or rolling my eyes at the encore (but yes, I did get up and sing along to “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”; it’s catchy).

I’d like to imagine that much of the silliness is a creative choice, a deliberate decision to evoke the nineties and noughties sensibilities that made kitsch so popular, and The Bodyguard fondly remembered. While I’m not convinced that it works on-stage, you could certainly do worse for a night of entertainment, even if just to close your eyes and listen to pop hits.

The Bodyguard plays at Mayflower Theatre until Saturday, April 25th, and tickets can be purchased from here: https://www.mayflower.org.uk/whats-on/the-bodyguard-2026/#