We Must Address a Glaring Flaw in The Princess Bride (1987)
The Princess Bride is a masterpiece. It’s a perfect film full of romance, adventure, comedy, and a wonderful coming-of-age wrap-around narrative device. I love this movie.
But sometimes a perfect film can have flaws. Or at least valid criticisms. I know this sounds like a contradiction, and indeed, it is, but that’s beside the point. A perfect film doesn’t have to be flawless—it just has to be perfect enough for the viewer to overlook such flaws. This is one of those cases.
There is one flaw in particular, though. One that jumps out at me as so egregious that it must be on purpose. I just can’t decide what purpose it must be.
So we have Westley and Buttercup, our couple. They are in love. True love, in fact, as they stress throughout the tale. But Westley is a poor farmhand, so he feels compelled to make his fortune overseas so that they can marry and he can provide.1 Seems reasonable, in an antiquated sense at least. But then the evil Prince Humperdinck swoops in and claims Buttercup as his bride, which is a real bummer.
All of that makes perfect sense in this story, of course. And it makes sense when Westley returns in a disguise—a “man in black” as it were—to steal Buttercup away from the three outlaws who’ve kidnapped her.2 It’s the point where Westley (in disguise) finally frees Buttercup from her kidnappers that gets me. More specifically, it’s the fact that Buttercup cannot seem to decipher that it’s Westley under that very thin disguise.
Now, I understand why she would assume he’s someone else before getting a closer look. Westley was believed to have been killed by the Dread Pirate Roberts, so when this swashbuckling man in a mask and a hood shows up to steal her away, it makes sense that she assumes he’s the aforementioned pirate.3
But she should’ve known. From even 25 feet away, it is quite obvious that the man in black is Westley. He has a very thin mustache now, but that’s quite a poor face covering. His ears, his nose, his lips are all bare. And his voice, which is very distinct, should’ve been a dead giveaway, especially when they begin conversing. ( know she was led to believe that Westley had died, but there was no proof, my dear. You have to trust your heart. This is true love we’re talking about!
This, I’m certain, is not simply a mistake. Rob Reiner didn’t really make mistakes.4 so perhaps “flaw” is misleading. There must be a reason for this costume design and this character choice.
The easiest answer may be the best one: It’s funny. It’s funny! It’s not a joke or a gag, but it’s a silly little bit that one might pick up on and smile about, especially on repeat viewings. The sort of thing that might make viewers yell at the screen. Which would make it a feature, not a flaw. Maybe that’s all there is to it, but that’s not enough to fill a weekly newsletter.
Thankfully, there is more to it. Given the nature of this film—one whose central narrative is bookended by a grandfather reading his grandson a bedtime story, complete with running commentary on the nature of fairy tales such as this—it’s probably a bit of satire as well. Westley certainly would not be the first character in literary history to don a cheap, unconvincing disguise and yet somehow flummox a group of people who should know better.
There’s one more thing I can’t shake, though. William Goldman, who wrote the novel and the screenplay, was a stone-cold legend in his field.5 But it wasn’t exactly uncommon for male screenwriters of his time to underwrite their women characters.
Buttercup is the sole female character of consequence in this film, and she’s a bit limited as a result.6 Her motivations all hinge upon Westley and Prince Humperdinck, and we know very little about her other than who she does and doesn’t want to marry. Would Goldman write a princess character who is simply not aware or intelligent enough to see through her true love’s disguise and leave it at that? Are we meant to see her ignorance as symbolic in any way?
I’d love to give him the benefit of the doubt here. But even if he deserves some criticism, we can forgive such flaws as this, can’t we? After all, that’s what you do with true love.
The Princess Bride is now streaming on Disney+, and it’s available to rent elsewhere.
I love that getting rich used to be so simple. You just had to change locations! We should really bring this back.
Did he even need this disguise? Not really. Nobody knew who he was anyway, so the only advantage this disguise gave him was intimidating his foes, though they seemed wholly unintimidated by him.
Dread Pirate Roberts is really a great title. It’s more description than name. I think we should add “dread” before more villain monikers.
Until North, I guess.
I would highly recommend his Adventures in the Screen Trade, which I bought from my college library when I was first getting into screenwriting. I probably only read about 15% of it, but that shouldn’t stop me from pretending like I read the whole thing.
Her character isn’t very significant, but shouts out to Carol Kane anyway.
I think it's because of the story framing as a tale being told from grandfather and grandson. The grandson doesn't know it's Wesley, therefore Buttercup doesn't. I think it's intended to be a 'book reveal,' where there are no visuals except what you see in your head.
We, the movie audience, know more than the grandson.
So what's funny about this is that I have had this to me before more than once, even as recently as [checks notes] Tuesday.
The first one that came to mind was from waaaaaay back when I had an afro and worked in a gift shop at a swanky hotel. I helped a lovely woman pick out a ring from our jewelry case. Super nice, very complimentary. Two days later, I helped her again and she SUCKED, bro. Genuinely the definition of 'mean.' The kicker was her saying I should "be more like the girl who helped her the last time she stopped in two days before." She thought I was a totally different person because my hair was tied up instead of down in the full fro. (For further context, all employees always wore all black. Truly the only difference was my hair.)
Now, I wear a mask. And there's a guy at my job who I would bet money thinks I'm a different person when I'm outside drinking my coffee with my mask off. He fully engaged me in warm conversation in the morning and then gave me the usual polite but strained smile when I was back inside with the mask on that afternoon. Bonkers.