Ultimate Moments: The Princess Bride sword fight
How the cult classic delivers one of the greatest duels in cinema: Westley vs Inigo.
By Scott Rayner
The Princess Bride’s status as a cult classic is in no small part thanks to its perfect balancing of so many disparate factors. It’s part fantasy, adventure, romance, comedy, parody, and action film. The greatest example of the latter is, of course, the legendary sword fight between two of its main characters: the “Man in Black” and Inigo Montoya. A duel so beloved, it is considered one of - if not the - best sword fight in cinema history.
However, this clash of swords and wit on top of the “Cliffs of Insanity” is no mere technical showcase; the scene is a near-perfect microcosm of the film. If you include the three minutes of dialogue leading up to the drawing of swords (for the three minutes of combat that follow), then the film’s charming characters, humour, and drama are all present. Being a tight 92 minutes long, the film (and this scene in particular) lacks any filler, helping the audience to remember its character’s motivations. In this case: the inclusion of Inigo Montoya’s raison d'etre. A Spaniard on a quest to avenge the murder of his father, Inigo explains his life story in a few lines of dialogue. He has dedicated his life to being a swordsman and will one day challenge his father’s killer to a duel. And yet, the simplicity of his backstory is surpassed by the way it is so charismatically conveyed through Mandy Patinkin’s performance. A delivery that succeeds in establishing one of the most important elements of the impending duel: the audience will now care about Inigo. Thus, we’d quite like him to win, or at least not die.
Of course, Inigo’s backstory exposition happens to include one of cinema’s most quotable lines of all time. (20th Century/Disney)
Conversely, the mysterious “Man in Black” arrives with little introduction, nor does he provide a tale of woe to win the audience’s affection. Quite the opposite, there’s almost nothing to emotionally connect him with the audience as the fight commences. That is unless you have already realised it is Westley behind the Zorro-esque mask. If you have, you still might not care too much, as we barely know his character from the film’s opening. That he’s handsome or intriguing with a new masked persona may help. But, if you don’t know it’s Westley, then sheer mystery and charm - which immediately flows from Cary Elwes’ performance - are used to endear him to the audience for this rather sudden fight to the death.
This is a quality that swells gradually while watching the fight unfold - for both men. One of the sword fight’s strongest elements is that its performances are both fun and charming. Strikes are parried with one-liners almost as often as by blades. With each question, or retort, the duel may become less threatening, but it emerges as far more engaging. Westley’s charm exuberates past the concealment of his mask. His arrogance has a playful quality that is captivating, not off-putting. Simultaneously, Inigo becomes undeniably likeable. The pair are on equal footing in their skill, presence, and personalities.
Perhaps the greatest gift from Elwes and Patinkin’s performances isn’t their prowess with blades, it’s that every moment of this fight is fun to watch. Repeatedly. Trust me, for this article alone, the number of times I’ve viewed it is over 9000. And I still love it. (20th Century/Disney)
Spinal Tapping of the blades
The set-up to the fight involves some of the film’s most clear framing as a parody. As Inigo and Westley’s exchange leans into (director Rob Reiner’s) This is Spinal Tap style of comedy, it’s briefly broken during a close-up of Inigo. Here, the Spaniard swears on his father’s soul to (genuinely) help Westley to the top so they can duel. As is often found during the film, it’s a moment that touches upon a more serious tone for the character’s determinations, and it works for just long enough to help sell the potential danger of the scene, or the genuine emotions of the character, without completely breaking the film’s cheery feel.
The film’s score aids in helping to establish some genuine stakes as the swords first clash. A sense of tension and unease is injected through a high-note violin accompanied by some drumbeats with an omnibus undertone. This is where the fun begins. Or, more accurately, where the expert work of sword masters Peter Diamond and Bob Anderson enters the scene. The pedigree of both men’s accomplishments leaves little guesswork as to why this fight is so revered. Diamond’s career includes classic choreography with Errol Flynn and Burt Lancaster, not to mention the original Star Wars trilogy. And Lancaster (an Olympian Fencer) was Darth Vader – as David Prowess’ fight double in The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi.
With that impressive foundation in place, a rare quality was added to help seal the scene’s true greatness: every frame of the sword fighting is performed by the actors. Stunt doubles were used for the few acrobatic flips playfully included mid-fight, but Elwes and Patinkin performed the entire choreography themselves. The benefit of this cannot be understated, as it helps to convey each man’s respective performance during every moment of the scene. The audience’s suspension of disbelief is never challenged, meaning we’re able to feel that these two truly are the best sword fighters in the world. The filmmaking isn’t required to hide the secrets of the fight as a performance. Instead, it focuses on the duel to reveal its quality as a technical showcase.
Wide shots, multiple camera angles, and yet, very few camera cuts help to feature the two-hundred-and-thirty-move choreography of the scene. It is a strong testament to the work put in by both actors. Cary Elwes (Westley himself, speaking on The Build series), said he and Mandy Patinkin were even training in between takes of non-related scenes throughout the film’s shooting. This level of commitment and preparation was essential for both actors to get their reps in with their sword masters, to reach the heights desired for the fight's final performance.
(20th Century/Disney)
The opening moments of the fight perhaps tell you everything you need to know for the duel; both men’s prowess with the blade is eclipsed only by their confidence which is delivered by a smile following the fast, elegant attacks towards each other. We now know that both men are skilled, but their charisma is what will carry us through the fight’s story. This is an honourable duel and a meeting of two experts who are enjoying the chance encounter and thriving in the moment. From here, the choreography begins to flourish – with speed – as historical swordsmen are name-dropped by the duellists during a shining example of swashbuckling on screen.
It is towards the middle of the duel where story and performance are perfectly blended. Inigo gains the upper hand as he reveals his ace card: he has so far been fighting left-handed, whereas he is a right-handed swordsman. His switch to right-hand leads to him immediately dominating Westley, who in turn, pulls his matching ace: he too, was feigning at being a left-hander. These two moments don't just provide entertaining and dramatic story beats, they showcase the quality of performance both actors obtained for the fight – as both actors quickly and confidently switch the sword from their left to right hands – mid-choreography. Again, there are no cuts or edits to hide this change, it’s all done in the moment. As if it was a genuine reveal by two masters engaged in a battle of showmanship. The difficulty of this hand-switching for the actors, especially at such a competent level, cannot be understated.
Perfectly balanced
Still, as this phenomenal level of choreography and performance continues, the film never forgets to inject the outlandish moments which make it a fantasy. Breaks in combat briefly come in the form of flying swords – as Westley throws his to the ground and performs a gymnastic loop before landing next to his blade, perfectly standing upright in the ground. Or Inigo’s recovery from being disarmed, as he catches his sword falling from the sky to a beautifully timed sound cue – as enjoyable and it is dramatic.
The perhaps ‘cheesy’ dialogue empowers this fight, and the characters within it. Neither has any genuine desire to kill the other, it’s a dance as opposed to a clash of blades. Flamboyance and mutual respect drive the encounter, not a quest for blood. (20th Century/Disney)
As the fight builds from here towards its climax, it doubles down in its ambitions for technical relevancy as well as an engaging performance. Both men’s characteristics are heightened as the choreography reaches a flurry. As Inigo begins to lose the duel, his control, poise, and showmanship all begin to fail him. Simultaneously, Westley’s command of the fight is established, as his confident, masterful outclassing of his opponent – delivered in sheer style - takes the fight to its end. The killing blow – earned by Westley, who has finally outclassed and disarmed Inigo following elaborately stylish swashbuckling – is rejected. In its place, Westley chooses to deliver a knock-out strike to the back of Inigo’s head, allowing both protagonists to remain alive for the remainder of the film. “I would sooner destroy a stained-glass window than an artist like yourself”, he declares. The audience can breathe a sigh of relief – no loss of blood, nor charm, will occur here.
If there is one takeaway from watching this sword fight (other than its phenomenal level of fun and quality) it's the thought that, well, they just don’t make them like this anymore. That’s not to say excellent sword fights haven’t occurred since, Nick Gillard’s work on the Star Wars prequel trilogy certainly proved that over a decade following The Princess Bride’s release. Although (Star Wars film and TV aside), sword duels don’t exactly flood our screens, leaving The Princess Bride in a rare treat. Revered technically, beloved emotionally. Perhaps only the Pirates of the Caribbean have come closest regarding their blend of action and charm. And guess who was involved in that film’s sword choreography…