REVIEW: Whitney’s hits can’t save ‘The Bodyguard’

REVIEW: Whitney’s hits can’t save ‘The Bodyguard’

Some musicals face an uphill battle from the start. The Bodyguard, now playing at The Proscenium at Rockwell, is one of them. Adapted from the 1992 film starring Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner, this jukebox musical features a story that tries to balance romance, thriller, and the perils of fame without fully committing to any point of focus. Staging it in Manila presents an additional challenge: Whitney Houston’s power ballads are deeply embedded in local karaoke culture, making them both familiar and potentially overexposed.

Unfortunately, director Robbie Guevara’s production doesn’t find a way to overcome these obstacles. Rather than shaping the material into something distinctive, the staging settles for a conventional approach that highlights the book’s weaknesses and leaves a capable cast without much to work with.

Trope-laden story

The musical follows Frank Farmer (Matt Blaker), a professional bodyguard hired to protect superstar Rachel Marron (Christine Allado) from a dangerous stalker. A romantic subplot develops, complicated by the fact that Rachel’s sister Nicki (Sheena Lee Palad) also develops feelings for Frank. On paper, there’s potential here—celebrity glamour, genuine danger, complex relationships. In practice, the book struggles to develop any of these elements fully.

The characters remain frustratingly underwritten. We learn little about what sort of person or even bodyguard Frank is. The show even opens with him failing to stop a previous client’s assassination. The way Rachel’s lives–private and public–are shown don’t give us a clear sense of who she is, either. The relationship between the Marron sisters were vague enough that emotional moments that involved their sisterhood didn’t quite land, and the love triangle feels more obligatory than organic. Even the main stalker plot, which should create sustained tension, resolves abruptly and–spoiler alert!–with the culprit dying offstage. 

There’s also something unavoidably dated about the material when staged in 2025—the tropes and dynamics that already felt stale even in the early 1990s now feel even overplayed.

Emotional songs

Whitney Houston’s catalog is undeniably powerful, but in the Philippines, these songs carry particular familiarity. Tracks like “Saving All My Love For You,” “Run to You,” and “I Will Always Love You” are karaoke standards and radio hits even to this day. This creates an interesting challenge: how do you make these extremely familiar songs feel fresh and necessary in a theatrical context?

Allado and Palad both sing these songs with technical skill and vocal control. The issue isn’t their ability—it’s that strong vocal performances alone aren’t enough to make the songs feel integral to the storytelling. Too often, they function as performances-within-performances or as extended internal monologues that pause the narrative rather than advancing it.

The musical also asks these songs to carry emotional weight that hasn’t been properly built up. Characters declare profound feelings through these ballads before we’ve had time to understand why they feel that way. When Nicki launches into “Saving All My Love For You” after limited interaction with Frank, or when both sisters sing “Run to You” without substantial romantic or character development, the emotions feel borrowed from the songs themselves rather than earned by the story. Because each song is performed in full, these moments can feel more like intermissions than dramatic peaks.

Lack of cohesion

The production opts for a traditional, straightforward staging that doesn’t take interpretive risks. The tone even remains uncertain throughout: the show contains elements of thriller, romance, and a smidge of comedy, but never quite settles into a clear identity. The directorial vision seemed to be to present everything at face value.

Transitions consist of blackouts while stagehands reset the stage—sometimes taking a beat too long, leaving dead air that kills momentum. Dramatic scenes unfold with overwrought slow-motion sequences and melodramatic line readings, while lighter moments rely on cheap laughs such as the overlong karaoke scene with the caricatured Japanese manager and half-drunk patrons mangling “Where Do Broken Hearts Go.”

Glaring, too, is the technical elements’ lack of cohesion. Mio Infante’s scenography is functional—Rachel’s mansion looks expensive, Frank’s cottage feels cozy, the KTV set has visual interest—but it all adds up to a noncommittal sense of place and time in the world. Shakira Villa-Symes’ lighting defaults to concert-style spotlights during ballads, drawing the eye away from Rachel rather than heightening the drama. The overall design feels predictable, aimed at easy digestibility rather than artistic engagement.

Arnold Trinidad’s choreography is one of the few bright spots—his dance numbers are lively and full, benefiting from a large ensemble of committed dancers. But even these moments feel disjointed, like variety show segments stitched between flat dramatic scenes.

Underdeveloped characters

Christine Allado sings beautifully, but her Rachel Marron lacks a clear persona—she’s neither fascinating as a superstar nor relatable as a private individual. During dance numbers, she appears less energetic than her ensemble, and her emotional line readings often devolve into a mannered lilt. Matt Blaker, as Frank, has the tall, strapping physique and brooding air the role requires, but he doesn’t strike much compelling nuance that makes it feel that his Frank Farmer has earned being the titular character.

Sheena Lee Palad wrings genuine emotion from her songs, particularly “Saving All My Love For You” and “All at Once,” but there’s little texture to her Nicki beyond being lovelorn and supportive. The production also brings host Tim Yap as Sy Spector, a piece of casting that looked interesting but translates poorly onstage. His skillset as a host doesn’t lend itself to character work, and the result is a performance that feels rather out of place.

The chemistry between characters proves elusive, which becomes a significant issue in a romance-driven story. The connections between Rachel and Frank, and between the Marron sisters, needed more spark to make the emotional stakes feel real. Perhaps the only pairing with any chemistry is Frank and Rachel’s young son Fletcher (Elian Santos).

Serving entertainment

The production delivers spectacle—the costumes, sets, and ensemble numbers have scale and visual polish. The show serves as entertainment, certainly. For audiences seeking familiar songs performed competently in an elaborate production, it delivers on those terms. 

Yet ultimately, it is a show that looks expensive and sounds capable but doesn’t fully come together dramatically. What works—the choreography, the vocal performances, the visual production values—can’t quite compensate for what doesn’t: the underdeveloped characters, the uncertain tone, and the sense that the show is going through the motions without interrogating why this story is relevant now.

 

Tickets: Php 4,120.00, Php 5,974.00, Php 6,695.00
Show Dates: September 26 to October 19, 2025
Venue: Proscenium at Rockwell, Estrella, Rockwell Center, Makati City, Metro Manila
Running Time: approx. 2 hours and 30 mins (w/ 15-min intermission)
Company: 9 Works Theatrical
Creatives: Robbie Guevara (director), Raul Montesa (assistant director), Mio Infante (scenographer), Daniel Bartolome (musical director), Arnold Trinidad (choreographer), Shakira Villa-Symes (lighting designer), Aji Manalo (sound engineer/ designer), GA Fallarme (video and projection designer), Jay Aranda (technical director), Elliza Aurelio (hair and makeup designer)
Cast: Christine Allado, Matt Blaker, Sheena Lee Palad, Elian Santos, Giani Sarita, Vien King, Tim Yap, CJ Navato, John Joven-Uy, Jasper Jimenez, Paji Arceo, Jasmine Fitzgerald, Radha, Fay Castro, Winchester Lopez, Carmelle Ros, Richardson Yadao, Iya Villanueva, Vyen Villanueva, Alex Aure, Julio Laforteza, Natalie Duque, PJ Rebullida, Lorenz Martinez, Lani Ligot