As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales from the Making of The Princess Bride

by Cary Elwes

  * * *

  People have often asked me what my strangest encounter with a fan was. I once met a young lady who politely introduced herself, then proceeded to tell me how much the movie meant to her. After she was done she swept aside her long hair to reveal a freshly imprinted and very red tattoo of the words As you wish in ornate calligraphy on the back of her neck. She asked me to sign it with a Sharpie so she could add my signature as a tattoo. Naturally I hesitated, wondering whether it was appropriate or not, but her mother, who was standing right next to her, insisted.

  ROB REINER

  I have had many encounters with many people from all walks of life who love the movie. But the strangest had to be this one: One night Nora Ephron and her husband, Nick Pileggi, who wrote the screenplay to the movie Goodfellas, wanted to take me to a restaurant in New York where the mobster John Gotti liked to eat. So we went, and sure enough, at the end of dinner in walks Gotti with six wiseguys. After we finished the meal I walk outside and there’s one of these goodfellas standing in front of a huge limo who looked just like Luca Brasi from The Godfather. He looks down at me and he goes, “Hey! You killed my father. Prepare to die!” And I just froze. Then he starts laughing and says: “The Princess Bride! I love that movie!” I almost fell over right in the street!

  It’s humbling, to say the least, to realize that you are part of something that has touched a lot of people’s hearts (and skin). As I’ve said many times, I’m sure that my tombstone will probably bear the words As You Wish, and I’m totally cool with that. It’s a wonderful thing to be associated with such a beautiful, funny, warmhearted movie. One whose popularity has shown no sign of waning.

  MANDY PATINKIN

  It was one of the true privileges of my life to be asked to have been in this film. And most of all, to get to have lived long enough to witness what it has become, to see the pleasure it has brought to so many generations. I had no idea that it would have this effect on people. I guess the real pleasure of it is that this movie became far more than any of us ever dreamed or imagined.

  A quarter century later, the entire cast (minus those who have sadly passed on—André, Peter Falk, Peter Cook, and Mel Smith) assembled, not merely as an act of nostalgia, but to celebrate something that has remained as vibrant today as it was when it was first released.

  That much was evident when we got together at Lincoln Center, as the crowd cheered with the entrance of each character on-screen, and shouted along with famous lines, working themselves up into a fervor. It was wonderful to experience that kind of response with the people who made it happen, some of whom I hadn’t seen in years.

  Watching the movie again twenty-five years later I am in awe of how masterfully Rob directed it. I still stick to the theory that he was really the only director who could have pulled it off. He had the right sensibility, the right sense of humor—just the right touch to do it. The way he directed—the performances, the shots, the editing, the production value, the score, everything. There’s not a single frame on-screen that wasn’t supposed to be there.

  BILLY CRYSTAL

  Pretty much everybody was there at the twenty-fifth reunion at Lincoln Center. It was fantastic to see them, and there were, I don’t know, maybe fifteen hundred people in the theater. I hadn’t seen it with an audience since the premiere, and that was so many years ago. And back then it wasn’t a big deal. But now! This was like The Rocky Horror Picture Show. People went berserk. It was so moving to me. When someone would make their entrance in the movie, the audience would applaud. It was like seeing a favorite actor in a Broadway show. There were noticeable tears when Peter Falk came in to read in the beginning. They chanted lines: “Inconceivable!” Applause. The Southeast Asia line. Applause. “Have fun storming the castle!” And so on. They knew all the lines. It was absolutely insane!

  After the screening we were all patting him on the back, telling him how great it still was, and all he could say was, “It’s kind of fun, right?” And we were saying, “Rob! It’s a great movie!” His response to that was, “You think?” He is truly filled with humility about his own gifts as a director. It is just one among many very endearing qualities he possesses.

  We also found out that night that Goldman hadn’t seen the movie with an audience since the initial Toronto premiere back in 1987. But he sat right behind me at the Lincoln Center event and I could hear him, because he has a very distinct voice. Every time the audience oohed, aahed, cheered, laughed, or recited a line, Bill would practically gush: “Oh, my goodness. This is incredible!” He was stunned by the reception. And afterward, as we prepared to go onstage and answer questions in front of a live audience, I found myself standing next to him.

  “Well, Bill, what do ya think?” I asked.

  “I had no idea,” he said incredulously. “It’s incredible. They knew every line. They loved it!”

  WILLIAM GOLDMAN

  This movie was a remarkable experience—the best experience I’ve ever had. It just worked. You never know why, and you wish it would work like that all the time, but it doesn’t. You never know what’s gonna happen with a movie when it comes out. Even if you’ve got a great cast and it’s wonderfully directed, you just never know. All I know is it’s different. It’s an odd piece. But now it’s become this whole thing, and I had no idea it would happen. I’ll meet somebody and they’ll say, “My daughter is twenty-eight and it’s her favorite movie,” or whatever. People seem to love it.

  I smiled and gave him a hug. “Of course they did, Bill. You wrote something beautiful.”

  Bill nodded. For a moment it looked as though he might start weeping with joy. But before he could do that, Rob took the stage and the crowd roared. After he thanked the audience for coming, he began calling us out onto the stage and we all took our seats next to one another for a post-screening Q&A, which was moderated by the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Scott Foundas, who also organized the event. We recounted tales of making the movie. What impact the film has had on us all. All the times we have had our lines spoken back to us, etc. Wally said that he believes that everyone he meets thinks that they are the first ones to come up with the idea of saying his lines back to him. Billy told of how he recently sat down to watch the film with his two grown daughters and his grandchildren, which was the “as you wish” moment for him, and how love for the film will most likely endure through generations.

  Then Bill, who was still very emotional from the screening, was asked a very poignant question about whether or not there was any chance he would finish the sequel, entitled Buttercup’s Baby, a chapter of which is included in the thirtieth-anniversary edition of the novel. Bill sort of broke down a little bit, saying, “I’ve been trying for twenty years to do it. I’m desperate to write it but I don’t know how . . . I would love to make it happen, more than anything else I’ve not written, but I can’t . . . I can’t crack the story.” It was very moving.

  At one point a young man from the audience asked Robin if she would take a “selfie” with him, as it would fulfill a boyhood dream of his. Robin of course graciously complied. I was then asked to do my impersonation of Fat Albert that so impressed Rob on our first meeting and of course I couldn’t let the audience down. The evening was one of the most enjoyable experiences of my career. I only hope that we get to do it again in five more years . . . or even ten. Perhaps a golden anniversary of The Princess Bride?

  Inconceivable? Maybe not.

  Why has this film endured when so many others haven’t? What is it about this particular film that struck a nerve with audiences around the world to make it the beloved movie it is today? And I’m not suggesting it is Citizen Kane, but it has endured. There are many theories, but truthfully I don’t think anyone really knows. Does anyone know anything about what makes a good movie? Mr. Goldman, we know, thinks not. I have a theory. So for what it’s worth, here it is . . . I think that the film has endured because it was made with a lot of heart. And for that we really have to look at the creative and te
nder hearts of Bill Goldman and Rob Reiner. Both men are very different people who came from very different backgrounds, but they share one thing in common . . . they have never lost touch with the love in their hearts for storytelling. And in this film they were able to explore that love of storytelling in a way they perhaps will never be able to again: the telling of the most extraordinary fairy tale/adventure story about storytelling that can now be counted as a classic.

  FRED SAVAGE

  I remember years ago, I think I was in high school, or just in college, I ran into Mandy. Just completely randomly, walking past him on the street. We had never met, since we didn’t share one minute of screen time. And we had nothing in common other than this movie. And I was like, “I think we have to hug, right? We’re both part of this thing.” And we did! We hugged! And I felt this real connection with him, because this thing just pulled all these people together. I feel like my experience was unique in that I wasn’t part of the camaraderie of the filmmaking. It was very separate, in the film and in the shooting. And so I never met most of these people. But we still have this common experience that’s kind of forever linked us all.

  CAROL KANE

  It’s almost like a real family. You know, when you all get to sit down together. And now, because this movie is lasting, it continues to happen. Which really is another privilege.

  BILLY CRYSTAL

  It’s like a great old hat that you can pass down that somebody of the next generation can wear and it still fits, you know? That’s what it is. Also, you can sit there with a little one next to you and you don’t have to worry about putting your hands over his eyes because there’s something scary or over their ears because they shouldn’t hear something. Everything’s done with a charm. The Rodents of Unusual Size, the Shrieking Eels—it’s all done in a playful kind of way. If you look at those rodents, you know there’s a little person inside. I mean, you just know, but I think that’s what it’s about.

  The film is indeed magical. It makes you feel many different things upon every viewing. As Billy Crystal has said, it makes you feel good. It makes you miss your childhood. It makes you want to have someone read stories to you again. It makes you want to kiss your sweetheart, fight a duel, or ride a white horse into the sunset . . . all in the name of love. In short, it’s the perfect fairy tale.

  As I look through my pile of fan mail I know that even today this film continues to touch the hearts of so many children, teenagers, and adults around the world. We grow old but it doesn’t seem to. It has discovered the fountain of youth. It is still out there, expanding and growing in ways we could never have imagined, and in ways we can’t control. We don’t own it anymore. None of us do—not I, nor any of the other cast members. Not Rob Reiner, not Norman Lear. Maybe not even Bill Goldman.

  It belongs to everyone now.

  And if you are among those who enjoyed this film half as much as we did making it, then all I can say is . . .

  Well . . . you know.

  EPILOGUE

  I was working on a deadline to finish my own memoir when I was invited to attend the twenty-fifth-anniversary screening of Rob Reiner’s film of William Goldman’s glorious, one-of-a-kind book The Princess Bride, starring the author of the volume for which I delightedly write this epilogue, Cary Elwes.

  While I couldn’t get to New York and Lincoln Center, where an audience of over a thousand fans ecstatically shouted out one memorable line after another along with the actors on the screen, at least a dozen people phoned and texted me as to the enormous success of the screening.

  Nothing I have ever been connected to has had a greater and more loving impact on its audience. Let me be quick to say I had nothing to do with The Princess Bride creatively. My erstwhile associate Mark E. Pollack oversaw the filming from a business standpoint; I simply fell in love with Goldman’s book, then his screenplay, and agreed to finance the film. It stunned me that every studio had turned it down, even with the likes of Norman Jewison, Robert Redford, and François Truffaut attached to it. Having worked with Rob Reiner for nine years I knew it was right up Rob’s alley—which is where I lived as well. William Goldman’s script was deliciously faithful to his book and Rob Reiner bringing Bill’s characters to life was the perfect prescription for a heartwarming and hilarious film.

  Rob and his partner, Andy Scheinman, cast the picture brilliantly, what with Robin Wright as Buttercup; Mandy Patinkin as Inigo Montoya; Wallace Shawn as Vizzini; Billy Crystal as Miracle Max; André the Giant as Fezzik; Peter Falk as the Grandfather; Chris Sarandon as Prince Humperdinck; Carol Kane as Valerie; Fred Savage as the Grandson; Peter Cook as the Impressive Clergyman; and, of course, Cary Elwes, the only actor I could ever imagine as Westley.

  The Princess Bride has to be one of the most beloved—not a word used often in this context—pieces of cinema extant. Nothing has made me more proud than my relationship to it.

  —Norman Lear

  Getting fried in the Fire Swamp. The pyro almost gave Bill Goldman a heart attack on the first day of shooting. H Stage, Shepperton. August 18, 1986.

  Farming in burlap. Birchover, Derbyshire.

  Swashbuckling in suede. H Stage.

  Rodent control: Disguised as a R.O.U.S., stuntman and actor, Danny Blackner, attempts to bite my shoulder with rubber teeth during rehearsal.

  Explaining that there are no “summer homes” in England to Rob and Robin. First day of the Fire Swamp.

  Rob putting his wonderfully positive spin on the virtues of wrestling a foam rubber R.O.U.S. A somewhat skeptical Peter Diamond (far right) looks on with Ken Baker, first AD (second from the right), and my stunt double Andy Bradford (in the background). H Stage.

  Experiencing André’s mighty wind with Mandy. Haddon Hall, Derbyshire. September 1.

  André at nineteen, already gaining popularity. Paris, France. July 19, 1966. © Corbis

  Chris Sarandon, Rob, and Chris Guest discuss week two of “chapatis.” Haddon Hall.

  Marveling at the sheer beauty of Buttercup.

  Sharing a laugh with Robin. Cave Dale, Castleton.

  In full “serf” gear. Watching Rob and Andy’s new favorite sport—sheepherding! A scene that nearly made it into the film. Bradley Rocks, Birchover.

  Attempting the Heimlich on André the Peak. Stanton-in-Peak, Peak District, Derbyshire.

  Another lost day to fine English weather.

  BFFs Billy Crystal and Rob Reiner. Billy’s outtakes for Miracle Max were so hysterical Rob and I had to watch them from a monitor outside the soundstage. “Miracle Max’s Hovel,” M Stage, Shepperton.

  “We are but poor, lost circus performers . . .” Inconceivably, Wallace Shawn was so convinced that he was going to be replaced he gave himself hives. Hever Castle, Kent. October 22.

  Defending Buttercup from . . .

  these guys . . . Humperdinck and his stooge, Count Rugen. Within an hour of these stills being taken I would wind up in the hospital. Burnham Beeches, Buckinghamshire. October 31.

  Not only am I not left-handed, I am not operating with a fully functional left toe, either. C Stage, Shepperton. November 11.

  Mandy posing for his action figure. C Stage.

  Chris wanted to have Rugen emit a fearful little fart just before running away from Montoya. Banquet Hall, Penshurst Place, Kent. November 26.

  Rob instructing us in the nuances of The Kiss That Left All the Others Behind.

  And captured! Six takes, all printed. D Stage, Shepperton. November 21.

  My last day of shooting. From left: Andy Scheinman, me, Robin Wright, André, Chris Guest, and Rob Reiner.

  With Pope John Paul II and my mother. The Vatican. June 7, 1988. © Servizio Fotografico de “L’O.R.”

  With President Clinton. The White House. March 5, 1998.

  From left: Myself, Robin Wright, Mandy Patinkin, Chris Sarandon, Wally Shawn, Carol Kane, and Billy Crystal. Celebrating the 25th Anniversary at the New York Film Festival. Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center. October 2, 2012. Photo by St
ephen Lovekin/Getty Images

  Onstage at Lincoln Center. From left: Rob Reiner, Robin Wright, William Goldman, Wallace Shawn, Chris Sarandon, Mandy Patinkin, Carol Kane, me, Billy Crystal, and the moderator, Scott Foundas. October 2, 2012. © David Godlis

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  You’ve heard the saying “it takes a village to raise a child.” Well, it takes a small village to write a book. I have to start by acknowledging Joe Layden, who co-wrote the book with me. I couldn’t have done it without him, and I am forever indebted to the amount of work he put in to the process. I must also thank William Goldman, whose approval I needed to write the book in the first place. Since The Princess Bride is still his favorite material, he was naturally unsure about the idea at first. But after a few conversations on the phone, during which I explained how it would be tenderly approached, he finally relented and gave me permission. And for that I am truly grateful; otherwise I would not be sitting here writing any of this. I am also grateful for his books Adventures in the Screen Trade and Which Lie Did I Tell?, which were a joy to reread after so many years and gave me a fascinating insight into his state of mind during the process of trying to get the film off the ground in the first place.