In the case of “The Princess Bride,” which is based on William Goldman’s adaptation of his own novel, I’d say that the door is wide open—not least because it’s far from a perfect movie. Much about it is rooted in the dated standards of its times and, thus, is ripe for reimagination. To begin with, its title character—the princess Buttercup (Robin Wright), who wants to marry a commoner named Westley (Elwes) but is betrothed to the evil Prince Humperdinck (Chris Sarandon)—is written and directed, for the most part, like a sack of gold rather than a sentient person. The one time she raises a hand to her oppressors, she’s utterly incompetent and has to be rescued by Westley, as she is at every turn—protected from flames in the “fire swamp,” pulled from a pit of “lightning sand,” protected from the rouses (rodents of unusual size). Her only recourse in the face of her impending forced marriage to Humperdinck is to plan her suicide—an act from which she is again saved by Westley, who protests, “There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world.” It’s worth recalling, too, the severe test to which Westley, disguised by the mask of the Dread Pirate Roberts, subjects her: it involves his bitter and derisive skepticism about the truth—the fidelity—of her love, and culminates in his raising his hand as if to hit her and declaring, “Where I come from, there are penalties when a woman lies.”
Another underlying relationship in the film, while set in modern times, is as crude and old-fashioned as the faux-medieval tale: the one that frames the story, between the boy (Fred Savage) and his grandfather (Peter Falk), who is reading him the book version of “The Princess Bride,” a novel (by the fictitious author S. Morgenstern) that was already around when the grandfather was a child. The boy is a sports-loving, action-craving, kiss-cringeing cliché, who expresses surprise that Buttercup is willing to marry Humperdinck rather than Westley “after all that Westley did for her.” It’s one of the many notions that might, in a remake, elicit some illuminating discussion between the grandfather and the boy—or, perhaps even more illuminating, between a grandmother and her granddaughter at their story time.
“The Princess Bride” could do with revisions in other ways. It’s a movie of clever banter but little visual wit (beyond the nimble early fencing scenes between Elwes and Mandy Patinkin), and some lumpy lines and performances that appeal to children as they are seen in the condescending eyes of adults. Yet far be it from me to gainsay the delight that many viewers take in “The Princess Bride.” The point isn’t to suggest that fans renounce the pleasures, such as they are. But it’s reasonable to expect a remake to tell a fuller story, to offer different perspectives on its characters and situations and, in the process, to deliver different pleasures while nonetheless honoring the achievements of the original.
by Richard Brody, New Yorker | Read more:
Image: Alarmy
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