As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales from the Making of The Princess Bride (29 page)
Read As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales from the Making of The Princess Bride Online
Authors: Cary Elwes,Joe Layden
Pretty scary stuff.
We’d been filming and training five days a week up to that point, but Bob and Peter now declared that Saturday would no longer be a day off.
“Sorry, boys,” I remember Bob saying. “We have to get this right. And we have even less time to do it in.”
So Mandy and I continued to practice and practice until we had carefully plotted out a sequence that would last approximately three minutes total, as per our director’s instructions. It was a little harder for me, as my left foot was still tender, but eventually we felt we had it down cold. By the time Bob and Peter were finally happy with it, we were ready to put it on film.
WALLACE SHAWN
The swordfights took immense discipline and work, and they really did it. I have to say, I was impressed.
We began shooting the scene at 8:30 a.m. on Monday, November 10, on C Stage at Shepperton, which had now been marvelously transformed to look like a castle ruin at the top of the Cliffs of Insanity.
I had a lot of fun days while filming
The Princess Bride,
but this, for me, was possibly the most memorable. You could feel the magic on the set. There was a palpable sense of excitement and healthy tension.
While Mandy and I warmed up and reviewed the basic choreography with Bob and Peter, the set started getting packed with onlookers. Typically, only the personnel required for a given scene are allowed to watch. But now it seemed that everyone wanted to see us film the swordfight. I swear I saw the studio valet parking guy there, standing at the back with his arms folded, as if to say, entertain me. Even Bill Goldman flew back from New York to see it for himself—as if there weren’t enough pressure.
I’ll admit to having some butterflies in my stomach; they were mostly the good variety, though—the kind you get when you’re excited, not when you think of failing. In fact, I think Mandy and I were so well prepared for this moment, we actually couldn’t wait to get started.
Rob wanted to jump straight into the fight sequence itself and save the long conversation between Inigo and the Man in Black that precedes it—in which Inigo explains his obsession with hunting down the six-fingered man who killed his father—for later. We started with the simple lines: “You seem a decent fellow,” Inigo says as the two men square off. “I hate to kill you.”
“You seem a decent fellow,” the Man in Black replies. “I hate to die.”
If you look at it carefully, the choreography of the piece begins
slowly at first, with the two masters testing each other, feeling each other out. Gradually, though, the duel escalates in tempo, speed, and intensity.
ROB REINER
Cary and Mandy had to learn to fence both left-handed and right-handed, and we wanted to make sure that they could design a really cool fencing sequence. So when we finally got to it, I was so proud of the fact that the two of them—I mean, Mandy had started working on it even before we went over to London; he was working on it I think for about four months, and Cary worked for only about two months—I’m very proud of the fact that every single frame of actual sword fighting is both of them. There are no doubles except for the acrobatics when they flip off the bar. The actual swordplay, every single frame, is just the two of them. Left-handed and right-handed. I put it up against any swordfight in movie history.
“You are using Bonetti’s defense against me,” Inigo says, displaying both his knowledge of classic swordsmanship and an appreciation for his opponent. He already knows that this will be a chess match as well as a fight.
“I thought it fitting,” Westley responds with a sly smile, “considering the rocky terrain.”
The beauty of this swordfight, of course, is that it combines the execution of both physical mastery
and
brilliant dialogue. Goldman has Westley and Inigo exchange gracious, complimentary remarks about their opponent’s tactics and style, even as they try to vanquish one another. In my humble opinion, it has never been equaled. Nor perhaps will it ever be.
“You are wonderful!” Inigo says at one point.
“Thank you,” Westley politely replies. “I’ve worked hard to become so.” (Never a truer line had been spoken!)
And then comes the beautiful moment when Inigo reveals that he is, in fact, not left-handed, and flips the sword into his stronger hand.
“You are amazing!” Westley acknowledges as Inigo pins him against a crumbling rock ledge.
“I ought to be after twenty years,” Inigo replies.
“There is one thing I must tell you,” Westley says.
“What is that?”
“I’m not left-handed, either.”
BILLY CRYSTAL
The swordfight is fantastic. It’s like a very beautiful, old-fashioned—in the best sense of the word—kind of scene.
With that, Westley frees himself, and causes Inigo to lose his sword. Inigo then uses a nearby (and conveniently placed) horizontal bar to perform an acrobatic escape maneuver. In pursuit, Westley does him one better: after throwing his sword expertly so it will stick in the ground, he performs a double giant swing and perfect dismount, landing directly in front of the shocked but impressed Inigo.
“Who are you?” he says, legitimately curious.
“No one of consequence,” the Man in Black responds.
“I must know,” Inigo pleads.
“Get used to disappointment.” One of my favorite Goldman lines.
Mandy then gave the most wonderful unscripted response to this line, a kind of mumbled “Okay” with a little shrug, much like a Spaniard would do, before returning to the duel.
The fight continues, until Westley knocks Inigo’s sword from his hand and holds his blade against the Spaniard’s throat.
“Kill me quickly,” Inigo demands proudly.
But Westley has other plans. “I would as soon destroy a stained-glass window as an artist like yourself; however, since I can’t have you following me, either . . .”
And with that, Westley uses the butt of his sword to knock Inigo unconscious. After my mishap with Chris, it was decided this time that I should walk behind Mandy and swipe the back of his head without actually touching him. An easy “sell” for the camera, and no one would have to go to the hospital. “It’s only a mistake if you don’t learn from it,” as my father used to say.
We did the entire fight sequence from start to finish with Mandy and me (sans the acrobatics, of course) in a single take. Rob captured it on two cameras, from different angles, and I am proud to say, we did not make a single mistake. When we finished, the entire crowd in attendance burst into applause. Bob and Peter were beaming, Goldman was speechless. Only my big toe remained unimpressed.
“Great job, guys!” Rob said. “Fantastic! Now let’s do it again.”
And so we did.
Over and over and over.
One day became two. Two days became three. Three then became four. In all we ended up spending the better part of a week filming the Greatest Swordfight in Modern Times, which I suppose is appropriate. We shot from the front, from the back, wide angles, close-ups, from my point of view, Mandy’s point of view, etc. At one point we even shot seventeen takes from a single angle. All printed. After the tenth take, I remember Rob saying, “Verr-y cool!” in that voice of his.
And then we did seven more.
I remember feeling a true kinship with Mandy that week. The truth is, while we certainly got along very well throughout the production, we really didn’t get to spend a lot of time socializing on the set, as we spent most if not all of our spare time training. By the time we were done
with that, and after a long day of shooting, all we wanted to do was go home and soak our weary limbs in a hot bath. During the shooting of the actual fight, however, I remember feeling very close to him. Probably in much the same way that boxers might grow close to each other despite being opponents. We would sit there together between takes, trying to stay hydrated, wiping our faces and hands with towels, talking about
what we had done right and wrong, what had worked and what hadn’t worked. Generally helping each other out. We’d go over the things we had been taught: holding the blade correctly, bending our knees, staying limber and loose, and so on. And, most important of all, making sure we were always looking at each other’s eyes.
MANDY PATINKIN
Rob wanted the actors to be seen doing all the fencing. He wanted full-body shots, as opposed to most other fencing pictures, where it would be the point of view of the actors. Where you would see only the hand of the other fencer off camera. In most movies, this would be done by a stunt double. But Rob was adamant that we do all the fighting ourselves. My greatest memory and pleasure, in terms of fencing, was the fact that we became proficient enough to improvise on a dime. I remember on one of the final days of shooting the sequence where we were going up the stairs, changing from the left to the right hand, it didn’t quite work for the camera. And I remember turning to Bob Anderson, a beautiful man, God rest his soul, and he had a suggestion. I said, “Go tell Rob.” And he said, “Oh, no, that’s not my place.” I said, “Bob, he doesn’t know anything about fencing. You’re the guy! You’ve got to tell him.” So Cary and I went over with Bob and Peter and we told him. And Rob took a moment and then said, “Okay, go ahead and fix it. But make it quick!” We only had about twenty minutes, and we rechoreographed that whole sequence, which we had spent weeks choreographing within an inch of its life. We had learned the skill, the basics of fencing, so clearly that Cary and I, with Bob and Peter’s expert guidance, were able to redo the whole sequence up the steps in less than a half hour. That was the highlight of the whole film for me, because we had really learned a skill and we were able to implement it instantly. That was quite thrilling.
If you look closely at the fight scene, you’ll notice that Mandy and I are staring at each other throughout, telegraphing the next move or parry, actually kind of signaling to one another. We had it down to a very precise routine. So much so that the eye triggers basically became supplemental. There was no margin for error. Bob and Peter kept warning us that if we screwed up, it wasn’t so much that the scene would be ruined, your partner might get hurt.
But to our credit we came out cleanly, without so much as a bump or a scratch. And with exactly the scene Rob wanted to capture on film, clocking in at approximately three minutes and ten seconds. A scene that I think did justice to the way it was described on the printed page:
The Greatest Swordfight in Modern Times.
MANDY PATINKIN
At one point Rob said, “I want to put the cameras all the way up to the ceiling and do a couple more takes. Are you guys up to it?” This was after we had spent several days doing these fights, and we just jumped at it like wild animals. We did the whole piece without stopping again, like a stage piece. And the only painful moments to me were every time Rob yelled, “Cut! Print!” Because that meant we got it right, and we might not be doing that part again. That was heartbreaking to me. I just didn’t want it to end.
12
ALL GOOD THINGS . . .I
t’s true in life, as in the movies, that the greatest highs are often followed by the lowest lows. The day after we finished shooting the sword-fighting scene, I took a day to visit my ailing grandfather in the hospital. He had been diagnosed with diabetes, but it was only after I arrived that I was told that he had taken a turn for the worse.
