THE PRINCESS BRIDE: Blu-ray reissue (Act III Communication/2oth Century-Fox, 1987) Criterion Collection

With the passage of time, Rob Reiner’s The Princess Bride (1987) has acquired a reputation that, ostensibly, it does not deserve. For some odd reason I have distinct recollections of seeing this one at the Odeon Theatre. Yet, even as a teenager, thoroughly unschooled in film scholarship, I thought the plot was more than a little bit episodic, the characters, buffoonish at best, and the romantic chemistry between Cary Elwes’ love-struck would-be swashbuckler, Westley and Robin Wright’s glacial, if stunning Princess Buttercup more dead-in-the-water than grand amour. William Goldman, who wrote the screenplay as well as the book on which it is based, seems to have fallen too much in love with recreating his fairytale for the screen. He has a lot of raw materials at his disposal: stunningly handsome location work shot all over England, lush and romanticized through cinematographer, Adrian Biddle’s lens; Norman Garwood’s superior production design, and, Mike Knopfler’s exotic underscore, capped off by Willie DeVille’s Oscar-nominated rendition of ‘Storybook Love’… “It’s as real as the feelings I feel.” So, for me anyway, it has always been something of a downer, and a real mystery, that The Princess Bride becomes increasingly flimsy and sedated as it wends its way through every cliché of a tale told by the Brothers Grimm. Even the climactic rescue of ‘our hero’, Westley is luke warm and tinged in a sort of perfunctory ennui. While everything undeniably looks gorgeous, even Reiner’s direction creeks under the quaintness of the exercise rather than elevating the fanciful into the sort of grandly sophisticated tomes we know he is capable at his best.  

It is even more curious, as Reiner’s passion for Goldman’s book was stirred early on after his father, Carl bequeathed him a copy. It’s painful, actually, because Reiner desperately wants to do The Princess Bride justice. Even as he was wrapping production on 1986’s Stand by Me, Reiner envisioned The Princess Bride as his next big project. Alas, Paramount did not share in Reiner’s verve. He was also informed several major studios, including 2oth Century-Fox, had vied for the rights in the past with less than hearty success. Fox had actually paid Goldman a cool half million, both for the rights and to produce a screenplay in 1973. It almost happened, with Richard Lester directing. But then a management shake-up at Fox sent everything into the dreaded ‘turn-around’ from whence few projects are ever revived. Disgusted, Goldman bought back the film rights. As years passed, such note worthies as Francois Truffaut, Robert Redford, and Norman Jewison all made their pitch to direct. After his success in Superman: The Movie (1978) even Christopher Reeve expressed a desire to partake as the Westley du jour. Still, nothing happened. But Reiner had an ace in the hole: producer, Norman Lear, with whom he had established a winning rapport since his days playing the harried son-in-law, Mike ‘Meathead’ Stivic on Lear’s trail-blazing TV sitcom, All in the Family (1971-79).

In the days before Cary Elwes began to taint his career objectives, chronically cast as the disreputable bastard everyone loves to hate, he was considered matinee idol/leading man material, thanks to his stunning breakout performance in Lady Jane (1986). Like many seated in the audience then, Reiner had taken notice of Elwes ‘heartthrob’ potential, flying to Munich to interview the actor, and departing with Elwes firmly committed to the role. Casting Princess Buttercup proved a greater challenge. Reiner launched a Scarlett O’Hara-styled search for the ideal girl, interviewing scores of fresh-faced English lasses, only to come away from the experience deflated and with no clear choice in view. Meanwhile, learning of the auditions, Robin Wright’s agent coaxed the shy girl into a chance meeting with Reiner and his casting director, Jane Jenkins. Impressed by Wright, the pair invited her to meet Goldman at his home. According to Jenkins, the door opened, and, in the breezeway, there stood the winsome reincarnation of Goldman’s heroine in a white summer dress, “backlit by God.” Reportedly, Goldman took one look at Wright and said, “Well…that’s what I wrote. It was the most perfect thing.”

Meanwhile, Mandy Patinkin – always a front-runner, and, Wallace Shawn were hired: Shawn, as the wily Vizzini, primarily to contrast in stature to André the Giant as Fezzik. Initially, Jenkins had been informed by the World Wrestling Federation of a conflict of interests – a match already set in Tokyo – precluding André’s participation. Jenkins then turned to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Lou Ferrigno, and Carel Struycken. Mercifully, none of these alternates panned out. When the bout in Tokyo was unexpectedly canceled, Jenkins was granted access to André and his services secured. Despite his formidable girth, André – towering at 7 ft. 4 in. and weighing a staggering 520 lbs. – indeed, one of the colossuses of the wrestling world - had undergone major back surgery to prevent him from performing his own stunts. Hence, in scenes where he was expected to carry co-star, Cary Elwes on his back, various SFX were employed to create this illusion – Elwes, suspended on wires for a fight scene, and hidden on specially built ramps just out of camera range for the close-ups. In wide shots, a double was employed. As pre-production got underway, Reiner rented a house on location where he staged frequent casual get-togethers for cast and crew; a chance to mingle, relax and get to know fellow cast members, creating a sense of familial camaraderie that carried over on the set.  Cary Elwes and Mandy Patinkin were required to fence. Under the expert tutelage of professional instructors, Bob Anderson and Peter Diamond, the actors were put through the rigors of how to hold their weapons; also, the intricacies of fight choreography. In their respective careers, Anderson and Diamond had been Olympian fencers, had worked with the likes of Errol Flynn and Burt Lancaster during Hollywood’s golden age, and, cumulatively contributed their art and craftsmanship to the James Bond and Lord of the Rings franchises, with noteworthy efforts exerted on Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) and Star Wars (1977).

With all this attention paid to detail, The Princess Bride ought to have been a better movie. To be sure, there are moments peppered throughout it that work a spell of sheer delight. But on the whole, the picture lacks both the cohesion and immediacy of a classic romantic swashbuckler. It has oft been stated that the strength and validation of our heroes is in direct counterpoint to the intensity of their arch nemeses. Regrettably, the villain in The Princess Bride, Chris Sarandon’s Prince Humperdinck, is a weak-kneed and simpering fop at best. The Prince’s effete cohort, Count Rugen (Christopher Guest) makes up somewhat for this dearth in menacing but is hampered by the more slapstick elements that continually diffuse his potency. Aside: on set, Guest’s impromptu striking of Elwes on the head – ‘for real’ at Elwes’ request – briefly sent the actor to hospital with a dizzy spell. Despite its deficits, over the years I have watched with general amazement as prepubescent audiences everywhere continue to be awe-struck and warmed by The Princess Bride’s quaint, and at intervals, queer ‘charm’. I confess, looking back on it now, the picture is more rewarding for the cuddly warm afterglow of its cameos (Andre the Giant, Billy Crystal, Carol Kane, Peter Falk) and, of course, to hear co-star, Mandy Patinkin regurgitate the revenge-laden cliché of a good/bad line, “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” Still, I think it is important to note that The Princess Bride was not a big hit in 1987, either from a box office or critical standpoint. It made money, but not much of a splash; its star-attraction then, an Oscar nod for Best Original Song Billy DeVille lost to ‘I’ve Had the Time of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing.

Plot wise: the entire story is conjured to life in the mind of a nameless ‘grandson’ (Fred Savage) after his as analogous ‘grandfather’ (Peter Falk) elects to keep the ailing boy company with a good yarn. From the relative safety of a modern-day child’s bedroom we regress to the sun-filtered rolling English landscapes of another time and place, far, far removed from the present. We meet the sublimely beautiful, Buttercup, who lives on an idyllic farm in the fictional country of Florin. The girl is, at first, somewhat dismissive of her impoverished farmhand, Westley whom she daily commands with chores. To each and every task, he simply replies, “As you wish” and this, Buttercup soon realizes, is Westley’s way of promoting his never-waning love and affection for her.  Eventually recognizing her love for him is just as strong, Westley vows to depart into the world at large to seek a fortune worthy of the woman he has chosen to be his wife. Alas, almost immediately word reaches the farm that the ship Westley was sailing on has been pillaged by the Dread Pirate Roberts with all aboard believed dead. Buttercup is heartsore. Five years pass. Reluctantly, Buttercup accepts a proposal of marriage from Prince Humperdinck, heir to the throne of Florin. But before the ceremony, she is taken prisoner by three outlaws: Vizzini, a diminutive Sicilian, in command of the dim-witted Fezzik, an enormous wrestler from Greenland, and, a Spaniard, Inigo Montoya, seeking revenge against the six-fingered assassin who murdered his father. Simultaneously, this foursome is pursued by a masked man, and, the Prince with a small contingent of his soldiers.

Through his cunning, the man in black is the first to catch up to the outlaws on the Cliffs of Insanity. Deftly, he dispatches with Inigo in a duel, briefly knocking him unconscious. The man chokes Fezzik until he blacks out, and actually tricks Vizzini into consuming a poison. With Buttercup now as his prisoner, the mysterious man is prevented his escape by a narrow precipice. Incorrectly assuming he is the Dread Pirate Roberts, Buttercup seeks to avenge Westley’s murder and shoves him down the gorge. As he tumbles, presumably to his death, the man shouts, “As you wish!” Realizing her rescuer is, in fact, Westley, Buttercup flings herself after him. Miraculously, the former lovers are reunited unharmed.  But all will not go smoothly as, having passed through the mystical Fire Swamp, Buttercup and Westley are captured on the other side by Humperdinck and his gloating six-fingered vizier, Count Rugen. Buttercup agrees to wed Humperdinck in exchange for Westley’s life spared.  Outwardly, Humperdinck agrees to these terms, but secretly orders Rugen to torture Westley to death. Presumably to appease his ailing bride-to-be’s sadness, Humperdinck promises to restore Westley to her. Actually, he is plotting a war with Guilder – a neighboring principality he plans to frame for Buttercup’s murder.

Inigo and Fezzik are reunited in the forest. Now, Fezzik informs Inigo that Rugen is responsible for his father’s murder. Determined to avenge this injustice, Inigo realizes they will need Westley’s help to enter the castle. Alas, Humperdinck has already tortured Westley to death. Discovering his body, Inigo and Fezzik spirit Westley away to a dotty folk healer, Miracle Max (Billy Crystal), who reasons Westley’s love for Buttercup has preserved an ounce of life in him. Through Max’s weird incantations, Westley is brought forth from his ‘heavy paralysis’ and restored to health. Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik invade Humperdinck’s fortress. Expediting his nuptials, Humperdinck further plots to be rid of his new bride and these unwelcomed intruders. Instead, Inigo avenges his father’s murder, killing Rugen in a duel. Westley prevents Buttercup from suicide, then bluffs his way out of a duel with Humperdinck, owing to his still partial paralysis. Predictably, Westley and Buttercup ride off into the sunset, leaving Inigo, and Fezzik to speculate about the future. We regress into the present. ‘The grandson’, thoroughly captivated by the tale, pleads with his ‘grandfather’ to begin anew again. With a twinkle in his eye, the grandfather replies, “As you wish.”

The Princess Bride is a mediocre romance at best and an infuriatingly silly swashbuckler; more cartoonish than anything else. It’s target audience is likely children as, predictably, this is where its fan base has continued to ferment and grow over the years with each new generation rediscovering it. But Reiner’s uneven melding of the more roguish and playful elements has not aged well. One gets the sense from Cary Elwes he would like nothing better than to break away from the rather sedated stud he has been asked to play and go for the full-tilt testosterone, male chest-thumping swordsman to which he likely could have/and should have lent more credence and charm. The picture equally lacks the timelessness of a bona fide fairy tale, its make-believe, when viewed today, very much a byproduct of the eighties. Goldman’s screenplay is rather heavily laden down with its ‘true love conquers all’ scenario, dedicated more so to Westley and Buttercup, mooning at one another, with intermittent, tongue-in-cheek departures into ribald slapstick.  By the time Reiner introduces us to Westley’s torture and death, the picture has gone so far into farce that the grotesqueness in this episode teeters into the edicts of schlock B-grade horror; the resurrection, a sort of ‘we were only foolin’/matter of fact dénouement to satisfy Reiner and Goldman having painted the plot into an inescapable corner. In the end, The Princess Bride lumbers about with excellent production value, some fun cameos, but a truly disheartening lack of passion.

In 2009, MGM/Fox released a Blu-ray of The Princess Bride that left much to be desired, suffering from dated colors and weaker than anticipated contrast. Over the next decade, the studio repackaged this one ad nauseam, always with the same flawed 1080p presentation. Now, we get Criterion’s new 4K digital restoration. Is it worth it? Well, yes – partly. The color palette has marginally shifted, with less piggy pink flesh tones. The shift is also noted in navy blues, now appearing more blackish than blue, and, oranges, transformed into deeper shades of tangerine. Colors on the whole are more fully saturated. This is all to the good. Contrast is noticeably deeper too, and film grain looks very indigenous to its source. So, what me worry? Well, the image is still not as punchy as one might expect. Indeed, it looks just a little better than average in projection; whites, never truly white or pristine, and blacks, sometimes milky instead of enveloping and velvety dark. Image sharpness appears on par with the previous Blu-ray release. So, no untoward DNR or other digital tinkering that can be obviously detected. As there was nothing inherently wrong with it, the DTS 5.1 audio herein is identical to that previously featured on the old MGM/Fox release.

Criterion’s supplements are a mixed offering, cribbing from the MGM/Fox release. We get Rob Reiner and William Goldman’s 1996 audio commentary (actually produced for Criterion’s Laserdisc) with comments by producer, Andrew Scheinman, Billy Crystal and Peter Falk, as well as Reiner’s audio book reading of Goldman’s novel. Also regurgitated: 3 featurettes, on makeup, fencing and fairy tales.  Cary Elwes’ on set video diary gets a reprise too, with five behind-the-scenes videos.  New to Blu is a 17-minute discussion piece on Goldman’s screenplay with Loren-Paul Caplin and an all too brief puff piece about a tapestry Goldman made, based on his novel. Finally, art director, Richard Holland discusses his efforts. Two trailers and four TV spots, and liner notes from Sloane Crosley sumptuously wrapped in a cloth-bound booklet, round out the extras. Bottom line: If you absolutely love The Princess Bride, Criterion’s reissue will be a no-brainer and likely, the definitive hi-def incarnation of this beloved flick, likely to captivate many generations yet to come.

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

3.5