One boy's love letter to The Princess Bride

On the 14th of December this year, Rob Reiner and his wife Michelle were found in their home, murdered. I first heard about his passing from a friend in a group chat. The four of us in the chat were devastated by the news and my mind went straight to a specific film. I've seen a number of Reiner's films, but I didn't think of having my spine tapped, that time Harry met Sally, or every writer's greatest fear, Kathy Bates. I thought of The Princess Bride.

The Princess Bride is one of the earliest film's I remember. Growing up with my mum and my three brothers, we weren't much of a movie watching family. We read a lot, did a lot of puzzles, and despite being solo with four sons my mum would often make us activity packs of educational and stimulating activities. I've been told that I ruined the end of the Lion King when we went to the movies as a family and I declared with a few minutes left "I'm scared" and demanded to leave. I remember a few films my brothers and I used to watch at my Grandma's house while being babysat, but the first film which I have distinct memories of, is Rob Reiner's masterpiece, The Princess Bride.

My mum loved the film, and I remember that palpable excitement, the electric buzz of when someone is introducing you to something they love. The anticipatory glances as they wait for "that scene" to happen, the smiles when you laugh where they knew you would, the moment every Lord of the Rings fan says "did you know... and that's a real scream of pain?" when Aragorn kicks the helmet. I remember watching with my brothers, once, then again, and again, and... well I couldn't say how many times I've seen the film. I know I can quote the whole thing by heart, and I know that I love it. So here I am, writing a love letter to a film which has had an impact on my life, like few others have.

To me, a perfect film is not one which has no flaws, or in which the mis en scene is faultless, or which has a 99% on Rotten Tomatoes, to me, perfect is achieving what it set out to do. No wasted bits, no missing bits, just something that makes you feel the way you know it set out to. I've got my list of perfect films, just as I have my list of perfect books. The Princess Bride, to me, is one of those perfect films.

Mark Knopfler had no right to go as hard as he did with the soundtrack.

I assume this is what Knopfler looked like as he composed about that storybook story.

"How much whiney kid is too much?"

"It's a question as old as time."

"What if I told you there is a sassy grandpa to act as a foil to the whiney kid?"

"Tell me more."

"What if they sassy grandpa reads the whiney kid a book, and cures whiney-ness through the power of one of the greatest stories ever told?"

"Fuck me, you've got something here!! Mr Reiner, make this film now!"

I assume, shortly before Mark Knopfler's flaming piano session (artist's depiction above) something like this conversation must have happened.

As is tradition on this blog, we're rambling already.

The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure, The "Good Parts" Version, abridged by William Goldman hit shelves in 1973. The frame story, the prose, the whole thing was brilliant (I read the book many years after watching the film). The film is better, this is one of those cases where the film is actually better, and not just easier to understand for the semi-literate.

In 1987 the late Rob Reiner (a nepo-baby?), son of comedic actor Carl Reiner, made the film version of Goldman's novel. Boy oh boy, did that son of a gun hit it out of the park!

Now onto the film, the perfect, amazing, and brilliant film which helped define my childhood and spark a love for fantasy, and swashbuckling, and well read my books and you'll get the idea.

Reiner was a genius, the man had the comedy chops, could do tension, drama, romance, and the rest. He put it all in The Princess Bride. There were no holds barred, no stones left unturned, and no frame wasted.

The film opens on a retro (now) video game with a jarring digital rendition of "take me out to the ballgame" playing. The frame story has arrived. A sick boy in bed is visited by his mother (I have a mother, they're great), and she says that his grandfather is over, cue whineyness. The kid whines, the mum sighs, and grandpa bursts through the door. I didn't know what a foil was when I first saw the movie, I wouldn't have been able to tell you what a foil was on my 15th viewing, but I understood what a foil was when the grandpa sat down and shit got real.

Robin Wright and Cary Elwes. Where to start? Perfectly cast, amazing, dreamy, charming, all of it. I must have fallen in love with both of them on every viewing, maybe more than once on some rewatches. There is no time wasted, we move from frame story, into prologue and a love story contained in mere moments, and then the pinch is applied, Westley is murdered by pirates and shit is getting real.

Your heart breaks as Buttercup is announced as Princess Buttercup. Humperdink is so perfect as a villain, he reeks of the smarmy wickedness of the powerful and evil. We don't need to be told he is awful, we are told that Buttercup is only happy on her daily ride, and we have already fallen in love with her.

We're going to need time to build up the tension of that relationship, we need to know what Humperdink is like...

The fuck we do.

Buttercup is stopped mid-ride as she comes upon Vizzini, Fezzik, and Inigo. They are but poor, lost circus performers, or are they?

Wallace Shawn, Andre the Giant, and Mandy Patinkin are (and there's a theme here) are all perfect. Wallace Shawn as Vizzini is every awful boss, every wicked manipulator, and all of those childhood bullies who needed the muscle of others to be cruel. Andre the Giant, no notes. Mandy Patinkin as Inigo, he was soooo fucking cool. I wanted to be Inigo Montoya (while looking a little more like Andre as an over-large child), more of that later.

Buttercup is taken by the three and we are imediately made aware that this is all a plot by Humperdink (I knew I hated that fucker). Fezzik and Inigo are an amazing pair. I've heard it said that the best comedy duos are one half ASD, and one half ADHD. Fezzik and Inigo, to me, have a bit of that going as a duo. They are the Asterix and Obelix, Robin Hood and Little John, or any other instance of the big lumbering one, and the little fiesty one.

Aside: I think part of why I love the Riyria novels by Michael J Sullivan is that Royce and Hadrian scratch some of my Fezzik and Inigo itch.

The interplay between Fezzik and Inigo, and the interplay of their pairing and Vizzini are perfect. Buttercup comes to and you get to see her go on the offensive. She has no power in the moment, but she's keen to throw hands. She doesn't have weapons, so she goes for threats. Eels happen, and then we're off to the Cliffs of Insanity (great bloody name for cliffs, and I wonder if those cliffs contributed to my ongoing fear of heights).

Before we get to the cliffs though, we need Inigo to look back and think something is there, perhaps a local fisherman, out for a pleasure cruise, in eel infested waters? Come dawn, the cliffs loom large, and the boat chasing the kidnappers is closing in. Who could be on that boat? Westley is dead, and there are no other characters that we know that aren't Prince Dumperkink.

When filming the climb up the cliffs with Fezzik carrying Vizzini and crew, apparently Wallace Shawn was terrified. The man hated heights. Andre the Giant, already struggling in the extreme with his health, embraced the smaller man and in what sounds like an epic moment of wholesomeness, talked Wallace through the whole thing, telling him it would all be ok. You hear stories about Andre, but this one is one of the more beautiful I've heard. Wallace made it up, and the scene could go on.

Holy shit, the man on the trailing boat is some kind of man in black.

No one could make it up Fezzik's way... they just couldn't.

Holy second shit, the man in black is climbing and he's gaining on them.

I've got some scenes in Mettle and Ice which are directly inspired by the Cliffs of Insanity scenes. I love them.

Our kidnappers make it to the top and Vizzini gets to slicing rope to let the man in black fall to his death. Is the man in black Johnny Cash perchance? There's no way to know that he's not.

The rope is sliced, surely Johnny Cash has fallen to his death... nope, caught himself on the cliff and is climbing. What? Johnny Cash, how did you manage that? Vizzini and Fezzik fuck off with Buttercup and leave Inigo to deal with Johnny Cash.

Now, after this I'm going to stop going through scene by scene, we just had to get to this point... and then we can move to highlights.

On an episode of Writing Excuses, Dan Wells talks about being on a panel of writers discussing fight scenes. Turns out, one of the writers was a fencer, and there were other fencers in the crowd. The comment got made to the extent of, "oh but the sword fight atop the Cliffs of Insanity is so unrealistic".

In the follow up to this comment, the question is asked "how many people here do swordfighting?" Many hands are raised. "Now, how many of you got into it because of The Princess Bride?" No hands are lowered. I know from my own experience as a kid, many a sword fight was had between my brothers and I. Coincidentally, none of us are lefties, unfortunately we were unable to surprise anyone with that information.

As many of you are suspecting, Johnny Cash is actually Westley. He procedes to best Inigo with steel, he bests Fezzik with strength, and he beats Vizzini in a battle of wits using the ultimate mannouveur, of "haha, I'm immune to poison motherfucker!"

After that shenanigans ensue and the rest of the film is sick!

We get to explore a tale of revenge, we get to see baddies become goodies, enemies have their motivations and character explored, and Andre the Giant continues to drop bangers in his velvety French baritone.

The still masked Westley (at this point he could still have been Johnny Cash) out wrestles Andre the Giant using a sleeper hold before hoping Fezzik dreams of large women. Then we get Vizzini holding Buttercup at knifepoint before the ultimate battle of wits ensues. How do you win the ultimate battle of wits? You bloody cheat, what a plan?

With Buttercup and Johnny Cash together, nothing about the Man in Black's gait, voice, or anything else makes Buttercup think 'holy shit, that is my true love'. How does the reveal happen? That's right, Buttercup pushes Westley down a massive hill and he says "as you wish". Buttercup, realisng what she has done throws herself down the hill like a straight up looney.

The rest of the story is as follows.

• Survive the Fire Swamp (unsurvivable), includes rodents of unusual size (sick), lightning sand (sick), and random flame spouts (sick).

• Out of the frying swamp, into the fire. (Meet six fingered Count Rugen (who Inigo wants revenge against)).

• Betrayal and Westley's torture, Buttercup threatens suicide.

• Westley is freed by Fezzik and Inigo (that's right, the boys are back in town) but he's mostly dead.

• Miracle Max (Billy Crystal) steals the show while saving Westley.

• The boys steal the Princess Bride (wait, that's the name of the film!) Inigo get's revenge, Westley get's the girl, Fezzik get's four white horses, and the whiney son understands that his grandfather is a fucking legend for reading this story.

Westley and Buttercup having survived the Fire Swamp

My love affair with fantasy was strengthened by this film, my desire to sword fight my siblings was sparked, my desire to ask "does any body want a peanut" was kindled.

Along with Anchorman, and The Simpsons, The Princess Bride is my most quoted media. It is 'inconceivable' how quotable this damn film is. The frequency with which I have told people to "never start a landwar in Asia" is staggering.

To me, The Princess Bride is a perfect film, and it goes deeper than just what made the final cut. From Robin Wright getting the role a week before filming began. Jane Jenkins, the casting director recalls: "The doorbell rang. Rob went to the door, and literally, as he opened the door, [Wright] was standing there in this little white summer dress, with her long blonde hair, and she had a halo from the sun. She was backlit by God. And Bill Goldman looked across the room at her, and he said, 'Well, that's what I wrote.' It was the most perfect thing."

Andre the Giant was unavailable for filming initially and was in agony from his acromegally. The stars alligned, the Frenchman who feared the nature of the English speaking role, as a non-native speaker and not an actor got it did.

Cary Elwes had loved William Goldman's novel from childhood and dreamed of being Westley, but thought never to have a chance to do it.

It all just worked. A director who received the book as a gift from his father, put it all together and gave the world the gift that is, The Princess Bride.

Basically, I fucking love this movie. As of the time of writing, I'm going to rewatch it tomorrow night and have a drink in honour of Rob Reiner.

When Mark Knopfler asks me at the end of the film, if I've heard the storybook story, I'll probably shed a manly tear.

Rest in peace, Rob Reiner, I'm forever grateful for the gift that is The Princess Bride.