The Princess Bride (1987)

Unlike an out-and-out satire like Monty Python and the Holy Grail, The Princess Bride offers real swashbuckling excitement, real romantic feeling, real villainy and intrigue, real loyalty and heroism. In fact, it does all these things with such sparkle and flair that most straight-faced exemplars (e.g., Dragonslayer) seem dull and plodding by comparison.

But it does it all with a slyly subversive wink, lacing the story with outrageous conceits and comic repartée. Hilariously absurdist lines ("Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!") exist side by side with heartfelt ones ("Westley and I are joined by the bonds of love, and you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords!").

Screenwriter William Goldman adapts his original novel, based on a story he created for his two daughters in response to competing requests for a story about either "princesses" or "brides." The resulting tale, though, works just as well for romance-averse young boys, with the romance of farmboy-turned-swashbuckler Westley (Cary Elwes) and princess-bride-to-be Buttercup (Robin Wright) more than supplemented by all manner of pirates, kidnapping, giants, life-or-death duels, screaming eels, fire swamps, rodents of unusual size, and so on. In fact, the film frames the tale as a story being read to a young lad (Fred Savage) by his crusty grandfather (Peter Falk).

Supporting roles are all well cast, sometimes brilliantly so. There’s Mandy Patinkin, hilarious while managing a cartoon Spanish accent and a swashbuckling mein in the role of Inigo Montoya, the revenge-driven swordsman with one of the cinema’s most indelible lines: "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Wallace Shawn, unforgettable as the irritable criminal mastermind Vizzini ("Inconceivable!"). And one almost couldn’t imagine the film without Billy Crystal and Carol Kane, even in cameos, as Miracle Max ("It just so happens that your friend here is only mostly dead") and his wife Valerie ("Chocolate coating makes it go down easier").

Though its devoted fans may wish to consign me to The Machine for in any way mitigating my praise, I must note that The Princess Bride isn’t perfect. The story could be tighter, and the ending is a bit anti-climactic in ways. And, for a modern fairy tale — especially one written for the author’s daughters! — this one’s heroine seems oddly passive and indifferent.

And yet its joys are so unique and endearing that its small flaws are easily forgiven. The Princess Bride is a gem like no other.